Read Online The Stiff and the Dead by Lori Avocato - Free Book Online

going.”
    She nodded a third time. Sophie was a woman of few words.
    I scurried away from her house and started back toward the church. But then I realized what a great opportunity was smacking me in the face. Admittedly, I had a long way to go before I could call myself a real medical insurance fraud investigator. But I was determined—and curious.
    One would think I would have learned my lesson about curiosity getting me into trouble, but what the hell? I needed to find out if Uncle Walt was laboring under dementia—or if he was correct.
    And even if I wasn’t a good liar, my curiosity was advantageous for this profession.
    So, I looked back to make sure that Sophie was not watching me through the window. And thank goodness, she’d left her side porch light on. I turned around and walked past her house to the sidewalk in front of Mr. Wisnowski’s house. How convenient the two were, side by side.
    Although dark inside, the moon, along with Sophie’s light, allowed me to walk around to his backyard. Every once in a while, the inside of the house seemed to glow from the moon. There was an enclosed porch out back, which I assumed led to the kitchen, since that was the setup in Sophie’s house.
    The house on the other side of his, which was a mere ten feet away, was also black inside. Good. No snooping neighbors. I figured Sophie would be passed out on her sofa by now as I walked up the back steps. My hand shook when I reached toward the screen door. This was not good, I told myself. Any investigator worth her salt should not shake, even though my brain kept shouting that I wasn’t a murder investigator. Then, I also told myself a person would be a fool not to be a little nervous while breaking and entering and shaking.
    Damn.
    Could I really do this?
    I would have to in order to find out if Uncle Walt had been correct. Murderers shouldn’t get away with it, and maybe there was some evidence in here that would help my case with Sophie.
    With my hand poised near the door handle for a few seconds, I thought about it. Then, before I could stop it, my hand grabbed the screen door and yanked, and I was inside the porch.
    Since the screen was unlocked, I rationalized that this wasn’t actually “breaking.” The entering part was arguable. Hey, I was looking to buy and wanted to beat the rush. Sophie, a suspected criminal herself, could vouch for me. Is that what my world was coming to? I looked through the window. Yep. The kitchen.
    Okay, in order to get inside, I had to think like an eighty-year-old man. Dressed like this should help. I asked myself where Uncle Walt would hide a key—then bent down and lifted the mat below my feet.
    Nothing.
    But there was an impression of a key in the dust on the floor. Hmm. Maybe Mr. Wisnowski had used it, like my Uncle Walt might do, and had forgotten to return it before he died. Well, I really had no intention of breaking a window or door to get inside. My heart sank as I thought about how I’d gotten this far and wouldn’t get to snoop around.
    Something in my gut said my uncle was onto something, thinking murder instead of death by natural causes. And with Sophie so close . . . there just was something gnawing at me.
    I stood up and leaned against the door. “Ack!”
    My world spun in a flash.
    When I felt pain shoot up my back, I realized I’d fallen onto the kitchen floor when the door gave way. Obviously it had been left open. Even my wig had sailed off in the fall.
    â€œDamn.” I couldn’t move for several seconds and shut my eyes to wait for the pain to subside. My medical background said I shouldn’t move in case a vertebra had cracked, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to call out for help. How could I explain this getup and me on the floor of a dead man’s house? I squeezed my eyes tighter—as if that would help my situation.
    A dull light shone through my eyelids. Wow, the moon was