Read If Looks Could Kill for Free Online

she did every time she saw Victor, that she could sneak him into one of her books. Considering the fact that he could quote each one chapter and verse better than the Reverend Mister Bobby Rayford could the Bible, it would have been like sneaking Russian words into The Star Spangled Banner . "He's been trying to find an agent who'll handle him... and Lester."
    "I think it's because Lester looks so much like Ron Howard," Victor said quickly, as he always did. "I was actually trying to make him look like Holden Caulfield, because, of course, he is the quintessential young man. I'm afraid, though, he ended up looking like Opie Taylor. A more identifiable social figure, I suppose. But I think agents object to the similarities. Like he might get mad. But he wouldn't. I've written him about it on numerous occasions. And, of course, I've consulted with my good friend Chris." Both of them looked over to her. Only Victor smiled. "Because, of course, she's famous, too—"
    "You asshole!" Lester immediately protested, the voice scathing. "That's a secret!"
    Victor swung those liquid eyes Chris's way.
    "The chief knows," she assured them gently.
    It actually looked as if both of them sighed in relief. "Well, that's good," Victor said with a bright smile for Chief MacNamara. "That means you can help us all keep her identity safe. It's quite a job sometimes, you know."
    The chief was already taking his first drag off an unfiltered cigarette. "I'll bet."
    "She's most ingenious," Victor enthused, now warming to his subject. "Would you care to read her reviews some time? I have them in my home next door."
    The chief was going to demur. Lester didn't let him. "My home?" he shrieked. "My home? Listen, you dickhead, who's the one who pays the bills?"
    Victor damn near crumbled into a little pile. Another of Chris's legacies. Lester saved all the interesting stuff for her.
    "Excuse him," Victor begged. "He's had a bad day."
    "Can't I even say hi to Lester?" Shelly demanded.
    Chris was beginning to get a headache. "He can hear you fine from there."
    Greetings were summarily exchanged, and Victor eased himself and Lester back outside. Just to be sure, before she shut the door again Chris took a quick glance up and down the sidewalk. No more company from the looks of it. The only porchlight on was hers, and the police cruiser was darkened and still over on the church parking lot. She wondered if Curtis's chief knew.
    "I should probably be going as well," he said from behind her.
    Chris didn't close the door after all. "You're sure? Give me five minutes and I can probably scare up the town librarian and a couple of Hell's Angels."
    "Not for my benefit, thanks." He stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, a lumpish green remnant from the ceramics class Eloise had taken after seeing Ghost. "Is this the way your nights all go?"
    Leaning against the open door, Chris took a contemplative look out toward the silent, darkened street. "Usually I'm the only vampire in town. But Lester worries about me."
    The chief stopped alongside her, his own gaze following hers pretty closely. "Lester?"
    "And Victor."
    That brought him to a bit of headshaking. "He's... uh..."
    "Always been like that," Chris said. "Nobody's seen those two apart for the last ten years. But since Victor's mama left him about half a million dollars, it doesn't seem to matter much."
    The chief leveled a slightly bemused look at her. "A lot of material in this town for a book, huh?"
    Chris chuckled. "Yeah, but I'd have to wait until they're all dead to publish it."
    Still standing there, the chilly night air carrying in the last taste of winter, the two of them went on considering the town outside. The chief finally gave his head one last shake.
    "Well, it's unique, I'll give you that."
    "And you haven't even seen the Mobile Home Hall of Fame yet, have you?"
    There didn't seem to be any appropriate response to that, so the chief just pushed open the screen door. It creaked