Read Candy Apple Red for Free Online

straight for the rip in the screen. I pivoted and ran before my brain even locked into gear. The woman screamed at the dog to no avail. I pounded toward the Volvo. The beast was barking its head off and sounded right at my heels. The eviction notice flew from my hands. I leapt for the car. The dog snapped at my jeans, brushed my ankle and caught a piece of my left Nike as I hurled myself atop the hood of my car. Arms flailing, I landed in full sail. My stomach hit with an oof and all the wind burst from my lungs. I sprawled in classic starfish position for one heartbeat, then yanked up my legs at the knees while the monster snapped and snarled beneath me. With an effort I pulled myself to safety on the center of my hood.
    My heart hammered like a woodpecker on steroids.
    So, where was Gail The Tired now?
    I glared at the house. The front door was solidly closed. She’d left Woofers out here to bark and lunge and bare his nasty teeth. I snarled back at him, and that sent him in paroxysms of dancing around and clawing at my paint job.
    “Stop that!” I yelled in fury.
    His wrinkled mouth revealed canines that sent visions of ripped, bloody tissue across the screen of my brain. I shivered, hugged my knees tighter and considered.
    Five seconds of intense thought ensued. A lightning bolt of remembrance. That hard pain against my hip bone was my cell phone. Jammed into the pocket of my black pants. I pulled it out and examined its LCD, tracking the battery life. Only one little miniature battery icon was left. I had enough time for one, maybe two, calls. I mentally castigated myself, telling myself to plug the damn thing into the portable charger as soon as I was back inside my car.
    First I called Marta’s office. Her receptionist snottily told me she was, as ever, in a meeting. I sighed inwardly, wondering what drives me to piss people off. Certain personalities just beg me to annoy them. I told her that I wanted to leave a message and was snottily told to go ahead. Meanwhile, Woofers prowled and growled somewhere along the edge of the car. My heart still thundered in my ears.
    “Tell Marta I can’t make the three o’clock with her today. Something’s come up.”
    “Could you be more specific?” she asked in a tone that held a world of judgment.
    “Why won’t ‘I’m busy’ just cover it?”
    Woofers began barking furiously again, having trotted back a few feet to spot me on top of the hood. The receptionist couldn’t help but hear. “Is that a dog?” she asked.
    “Could be.”
    “Just a moment.”
    I was clicked off for a second. Woofers was really going to town. I was going to have a headache before this ordeal was over and the hood was blistering hot. I shaded my eyes, glancing toward the door again. Gail was back. Her figure stood like a wraith in the deepened shadows behind the screen door. I waved at her, but it was more an acknowledgment. She had me treed with her miserable, vicious dog.
    Marta snapped on. “I’m in a meeting, Jane.” She sounded totally irritated.
    “I didn’t ask to be put through. I was just leaving a message.”
    “Yes?” she said tensely.
    “I’m sitting on the roof of my car. There’s a vicious beast barking its head off—”
    “I can hear.”
    “—and until its owner decides to CALL IT OFF!” I yelled, “I’m stuck.”
    “Fine. I’ll tell the client you can’t make it. That’s what you want, right?”
    “As soon as I’m free, I’ll be there,” I said, growing irritated myself. “Trust me. I’d much rather be with you than here.”
    “You need to be here on time, Jane.”
    “Do you get that I’m in a bind?”
    “Well, figure it out,” she ordered and hung up. I clicked off with a certain amount of righteous indignation, pushing a few extra buttons in the process. The phone beeped at me as if in distress before the deed was done. I sat cross-legged, debating what to do next. Should I call someone else? There was still some battery life left.
    The only