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

would hit the number one twice and the call would mercifully go through when Hal suddenly noticed what she was doing and slapped the phone out of her hand. It clattered to the ground, the screen cracking.

Poppy pushed Hal away from her and then reeled around, twisting the key in the lock, attempting to get inside and shut the door behind her before Hal could get to her, but she was a fraction of a second too late. She almost had it closed when Hal hurled his huge body at the door, smashing his way into her house. Poppy kicked him in the shin and his tongue flapped out of his mouth, but he was operating on pure adrenaline now, and it failed to slow him down. He grabbed Poppy in a bear hug and they stumbled across the living room and fell down on the couch, Hal on top of her, his heavy weight immobilizing her, his beefy hands wrapped around her throat. Poppy opened her mouth to scream, but her windpipe was cut off and no sound came out.

Hal reached over for one of the throw pillows and jammed it over Poppy’s face, violently trying to smother her to death and silence her for good. “This was always my favorite part,” he hissed. “Up close and personal.”

Poppy fought like mad but Hal was twice her size and almost three times her weight. She couldn’t breathe and was becoming light-headed and desperate as the chilling thought that she was not going to somehow miraculously break free crept into her mind along with a feeling of utter hopelessness.

But then, she heard a thwack and Hal suddenly loosened his grip on the pillow. His body was pulled off her and there was a loud thud as it hit the floor. The pillow was then gently removed from her face and she was looking up at Sam’s concerned face.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, clasping her hand and helping her to sit up on the couch.

Poppy nodded, still trying to catch her breath.

“I was in the guest room, tossing and turning, unable to get to sleep when all of a sudden I heard this commotion in the living room, and I came out to see this rhinoceros on top of you, trying to kill you, so I grabbed the first thing I could find and whacked him the back of the head.”

Poppy was on the verge of tears she was so relieved and grateful.

“By the way, sorry about your People’s Choice Award.”

Poppy was finally able to speak. “What?”

“I think there is a crack in it,” Sam said pointing to her award on the floor next to Hal’s prone body. She had won it back in the 1980s for her role on Jack Colt. It was in the first box she had unpacked and had finally come in handy.

Poppy tried to stand up, but she was still woozy. Sam put an arm around her to keep her steady.

“I thought for sure you’d be sound asleep and wouldn’t hear anything,” she said.

“I forgot to take my sleeping pill.”

Poppy rested her head on Sam’s shoulder, happy that his annoying habit of not obeying her instructions had just saved her life.

Chapter 46

Poppy shoved a dishrag into Hal Greenwood’s mouth and secured it with gray duct tape when she tired of listening to him spew offensive four-letter words and empty threats to her well-being as Sam tied him to a kitchen chair with several electrical cords around his chest and legs before binding his wrists.

Hal squirmed and struggled through all his muffled screaming, but soon when it became abundantly clear it wasn’t doing him any good, he finally slumped over, defeated as they all waited for Detective Jordan to arrive.

When the doorbell rang, Poppy sighed with relief and hurried to let the police in. But when she opened the door, she was surprised to find a short, wiry Latino man with spiky black hair and a big friendly smile standing there instead of Detective Jordan.

“Hi, I’m Willie from Smart House Security. You must be . . .” He stopped to check his notes. “Ms. Poppy Harmon?”

“What are you doing here so late?” Poppy asked, peering around him to see his van with the Smart House logo parked out front.

“We had a last-minute cancellation. Didn’t Britney call you?” Willie asked, slightly confused.

“No, she didn’t.”

Britney had not struck Poppy as a reliable brain trust from their previous conversation, but she refrained from further comment on her competence, or lack thereof.

“It’s almost eleven o’clock at night,” Poppy scolded, checking the time on her phone.

“Smart House Home Security is on call twenty-four seven to insure that your home is not vulnerable to any bad guys lurking about!” Willie proudly touted.

“Well, you’re too late. My house has been invaded twice while I’ve been waiting for you people to show up and install my security system!” Poppy barked.

“Oh . . . I’m sorry to hear that,” Willie said, flummoxed, before taking it upon himself to attempt to rectify the situation. “How about I give you a ten percent discount?”

“How about you call Britney and tell her she booked this appointment without even bothering to consult me?”

“I can see that now is not convenient, would you like to reschedule?”

“Yes, I would, Willie. I would like to reschedule with another home security company. Good night!”

Willie finally got the message, and with a hangdog look on his face, slowly turned around and shuffled back to his van just as a white Ford Focus arrived, followed by a couple of police squad cars, blue lights flashing. Detective Jordan jumped out of his Ford and gave Willie a curt nod as he hurried up the walk toward Poppy. Four officers got out of the squad cars and followed Jordan as a curious Willie hung back, watching all the action unfold.

“Where is he?” Jordan asked Poppy.

“In the kitchen,” she said, opening the door all the way to allow him and his officers inside the house.

At the sight of Jordan