Pecked to Death by Vanessa Gray Bartal Page B

for her car, insurance, and gas.
     
    Her eyes drifted closed. In the morning, she would start investigating. The conversation with Gideon had not only solidified her decision to stay for a while, it had given her a starting point. Who found Aunt Abby? What was her condition when she was found? She could ask her father who she needed to speak to in order to find that information, but she didn’t want to. This was her task, and she wanted to complete it on her own.
     
    She didn’t mean to fall asleep on the couch, but that was what happened. An hour later when Gideon arrived home, he stopped short at the sight of a disembodied, oversized chicken head in the entryway. The initial shock was nothing compared to the surprise of seeing his daughter curled up in a pile of feathers on the couch, using a giant chicken foot as a pillow.
     
     
     
    The next morning, Sadie woke achy and determined. First, she hopped in the shower. How she had slept on the disgusting chicken suit all night was beyond her. The thought that she might not be the first person to do so kept trying to intrude, but she wouldn’t let it. As far as she was concerned, she was the first person to ever wear the suit; the company had bought it brand new for her. Never mind the fact that it had multiple cigarette burns, she was determined to believe she was the first person to ever don the thing.
     
    She emerged from the shower just as the doorbell rang. She threw on her old robe from high school and went to answer. Luke stood on the other side. He surveyed her from the top of her dripping head to the tips of her painted toes. Sadie suddenly remembered all the times they had run naked through the sprinkler together and resisted the urge to tighten her robe.
     
    “Dad’s not here. The meeting of the ‘I Hate Sadie Club’ has been postponed. Sorry you didn’t get the memo.”
     
    He held a rectangle of paper in her direction. “I found this when I was going through some of Abby’s things at the house. It’s addressed to you.”
     
    She glanced at the envelope and bit her lip to hold back the rush of tears she felt at the sight of Abby’s shaky scrawl. “Thanks.” Absently, she tried to close the door, only to have Luke step in and preempt her.
     
    “I want to know what’s in it,” he said.
     
    Sadie’s head rose sharply. “It’s addressed to me .”
     
    “And it was in my house. That makes it my business.”
     
    “Does not.”
     
    “Does too.”
     
    They squared off, glaring. Luke could tell they were headed for a battle. He took a breath and reminded himself that he was the mature, rational adult in the equation. “You can either waste time arguing before I see it or you can cut to the chase and let me see it now. Either way the outcome is the same—I’m going to look at that letter.”
     
    Sadie’s cornflower eyes turned frosty, her expression haughty, but he knew her too well for that to work. “Save your self-righteous condescension and open the thing,” he said.
     
    The frostiness was replaced by fire once again as she rolled her eyes. “Come in, you’re letting in a million flies.”
     
    Another Sadie tactic—lose and then quickly pin the blame on someone else for something unrelated. Luke didn’t engage. He congratulated himself on that as he followed her to the living room. She opened the letter and scanned it, moistening her lips with her tongue as she read. Luke looked away; she was always the most appealing when she wasn’t trying to be. Now with her wet hair, makeup-free face, and tatty robe, she was practically irresistible. Or she would be to someone who didn’t know there was only a hollow shell where her soul once stood.
     
    She finished searching and handed the note to him. “Turns out it is your business,” she said. She sat and crossed her legs. The robe tumbled open to reveal a smooth expanse of shapely leg. Luke forced himself to look away again as he sat and read the letter.
     
    Dear