Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (most read book in the world .txt) 📕

“Hello, ma’am, how are you doing today?” Matt asked brightly.

She gave him the once-over. “Fine.”

“I’m Elder Flowers, and what is your name?”

“Tracy.”

“Hello, Tracy, nice to meet you.”

“Don’t you guys usually travel in pairs?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re a Mormon missionary, right? I thought there is always supposed to be two of you knocking on doors, you know, so you can tag-team your marks.”

“Oh,” Matt said, momentarily caught off guard. “Elder Covey is under the weather today, so it’s just me.”

“Is Elder Covey as cute as you are?”

“I . . . I don’t know . . .”

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I feel God hears and answers my prayers?”

“Yes, that was one of my questions,” Matt said, fumbling with the book, checking a note inside where he had written down some questions. “Also, if there was another book that spoke of Christ, would you be open to reading it?”

“You’re new at this, aren’t you, Elder Flowers?” Tracy chuckled.

Matt nodded. “It’s my first day.”

“And the other guy got sick, and left you all on your own?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Well, you’re doing great, for your first day. You had me at hello,” she purred.

Poppy, who was hiding off to the side of the house behind Detective Jordan and a few of his men, safely out of view, shook her head and sighed. This girl was utterly shameless. An unabashed flirt.

“I’m sure you’ve had a lot of doors slammed in your face today,” she said.

“More than I can count.”

She reached out and took hold of his tie, playing with it. “Well, I would love nothing more than to invite you in and see everything you have to offer me. . . .”

Matt took a deep breath.

“But unfortunately, I’m not alone,” she sighed, furtively glancing back inside the house.

“Oh, is your husband at home? Perhaps he would like to join us to discuss the doctrines and principles of the gospel of—”

Tracy held up a hand to stop him. “He’s not as open to new things like I am,” she sighed, dropping his tie, devouring Matt’s worked-out body with her eyes.

“Tracy, what the hell? I told you to get rid of whoever was at the door!” a man’s booming voice bellowed.

Poppy tugged on Detective Jordan’s jacket and nodded.

She knew that voice.

It was Chase Ehrens.

Tracy stepped a bit farther outside and whispered to Matt, “Maybe you could come back tomorrow. My boyfriend won’t be here and then we could—”

Suddenly without warning Chase appeared in the doorway behind Tracy and barked, “Whatever you’re selling, we’re not interested!”

He roughly grabbed Tracy by the shoulders and shoved her back inside the house before his eyes fell upon Matt’s face and instantly widened with recognition. “You! What are you doing—?” He took in Matt’s outfit and book. “What is this?”

Tracy pushed her way forward. “He’s harmless, Chase. He’s just one of those Jesus freaks who go door to door and—”

Chase reached out and grabbed Matt by the shirt. “He’s a detective, you stupid—”

Suddenly Detective Jordan called out, “Chase Ehrens, this is Detective Lamar Jordan, you’re under arrest. Step outside with your hands in the air!”

Chase froze in place for a moment, still clutching the poly-cotton blend of Matt’s crisp clean white shirt. Then he gave Matt a hard shove sending him stumbling back, whipped around, and made a run for it back inside the house, colliding with Tracy and knocking her to the floor. Matt hurtled forward, chasing after him as Jordan and his men, with Poppy bringing up the rear, ran to catch up to them. Poppy stopped to kneel down and check on Tracy, who was grasping her arm in pain from the fall.

“Who are you? What’s happening?”

“It’s probably best you stay out of it, dear,” Poppy said, springing to her feet and hurrying through the house after them. When she got to a sliding glass door that led to a mostly gravel backyard with overgrown palm trees and a tiny pool filled with algae and debris, she was just in time to see Matt close the distance on Chase, who was running for a wooden side gate to escape. When Chase stopped long enough to open the gate, Matt flung himself on Chase’s back to stop him. The two men grappled, punching and kicking each other, locked in a strange embrace until Chase lost his balance and fell into the pool, dragging Matt with him. Poppy cringed at the idea of poor Matt in that dirty, foul, contaminated water, and prayed he wouldn’t catch some kind of awful disease.

When the two men both splashed to the surface, panting and coughing, Detective Jordan stood at the edge of the pool, gun drawn, flanked by his men. Jordan signaled two of them to grab Chase by the arms and haul him out of the pool. One of the officers wrenched Chase’s arms behind him and snapped on a pair of handcuffs while the other read him his rights.

Matt crawled out of the pool on his own as Poppy rushed over to him.

“Matt, are you all right?” Poppy cried.

“Yeah, but my shirt is ruined. He tore it when he grabbed me and my Bible is soaking wet. I was going to save this costume in case I was ever cast in a production of Book of Mormon.”

Poppy laughed heartily and reached out to Matt but stopped short of touching him. He gave her a curious look. She shrugged apologetically. “I don’t want to catch anything you might have picked up in that nasty pool.”

Tracy suddenly appeared in the sliding glass doorway, and seemed almost resigned to her boyfriend being carted off by the police. “Does this have anything to do with Danika Delgado?”

Before they could answer, Chase was screaming at the top of his lungs while being led away. “I didn’t touch a hair on her head! I’m innocent! They’re trying to frame me!”

Whether that was true or not, Poppy was just happy Chase Ehrens was finally off the street, because whatever charges awaited him, there