Read Online Pick Your Poison by Leann Sweeney - Free Book Online Page B

what, I wondered, was so darn delightful about that?
    Webster, now Mr. Cooperative, had no problem following me, and as I went upstairs, I asked myself how much havoc could one little old vandal wreak in an empty house?
    But within seconds I answered my own question.
    “Plenty,” I said aloud from my vantage point in the doorway of the bedroom. “Plenty indeed.”

    I was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the bedroom, papers scattered in every direction, when Kate and Steven returned from the hospital.
    “Whoa, Abby! What happened here?” Kate said, handing me a sack from the local sub shop.
    Steven followed her into the room, offering a jumbo iced tea, which I accepted gratefully.
    “Welcome to Daddy’s stockpile,” I said. “I remember him saying, ‘Why rent a warehouse when this place will serve the same purpose,’ but I never realized his pack-rat mentality went as far as paper wads. Whoever was up here dumped all four of Daddy’s filing cabinets.”
    “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” said Steven.
    I had nursed him through enough hangovers to recognize the strain in his tone. The man had a giant headache. “How’s your head?” I asked.
    “Five stitches, and my plot at the cemetery is still empty,” he replied. “What’s in all these files?”
    “Documents from back when Daddy first started CompuCan. Certainly old tax files. I’ve seen plenty of those already. I’ve also run across Kate’s and my report cards, twenty pounds of newspaper clippings, a dozen recipes for salsa, and napkins from every restaurant this side of the Mississippi.”
    “Why would anyone save this stuff?” He pushed sheets of paper around with his booted toe.
    “Because Daddy saved everything,” Kate and I said in unison.
    “Either the guy who broke in wanted something real bad or he was plain ornery,” Steven said.
    “If there’s a reason other than vandalism for this mess, I’d sure like to know,” I said. “And I’m still wondering if this has something to do with Ben’s murder.”
    “I’m more interested in who clubbed me. No one’s gonna blindside me and get away with it.” He rubbed his head near his recent reminder of the day’s events.
    “How did this person get the jump on you, by the way?” asked Kate.
    “I came by to inspect the place, see what needed doing.”
    “Did you see this person? See anything?” I asked.
    “Actually, my new contacts were bugging me, so I’d taken them out.”
    “Ah. So you were literally blindsided,” I said.
    “Why do you think I let Kate drive me to the hospital?” he said. “I sure as hell couldn’t navigate with that skull crusher of a headache and my contacts out.”
    “If you knew you couldn’t drive, why the hissy fit when I suggested Kate take you?” This I had to hear.
    “Abby, there’s a hell of a difference between you telling me anything and regular people telling me.”
    “Is that supposed to make sense?” I asked.
    “Does to me,” he answered.
    “I forgot. You’re different. Kate, would you help me make order out of this chaos?” I sat on the floor and gathered papers toward me, trying to ignore my anger. Just like the old days, I shoved my feelings down, and this led within minutes to a slow burn in my midsection. If only my familiarity with that sensation could have bred enough contempt for me to tell Steven to get lost—permanently.
    Kate and I began our chore, while Steven, unable to remain still despite the head injury, stuck around and busied himself with his measuring tape, preparing for the job ahead.
    An hour later, Kate and I had hardly made a wave in the paper ocean. I reached into my tea and removed the remnant of an ice cube, which I tossed to Webster. He crunched away, happy as a hog in a mud hole.
    “Sorting through all this could take weeks,” I said. “Why would someone do this?”
    “Maybe one of those homeless people decided to make a paper mattress.” Kate swiped a hand across her