Read Scared to Death for Free Online

she believed in her future husband more than she didn’t believe in God.
    And then, for a while there, she even found fleeting comfort in both. Maybe there really was something to this God stuff. Maybe that was why Marin Hartwell had been handed a chance at happily-ever-after with a hero who could have had anyone, but miraculously wanted her .
    Concealing her first pregnancy and giving up her newborn son for adoption soon shattered her fledgling religious faith—yet, curiously, not her faith in Garvey, who coerced her into making those decisions. She convinced herself, somehow, that if there was a God, he had betrayed her; even that she had betrayed herself. But not Garvey. No, never Garvey. She never realized the truth about him until last August, when it was too late.
    Down the hall, Caroline and Annie continue tosquabble. As usual, Caroline is accusing her sister of snooping through something—her room, or her laptop, or her phone…
    Marin closes her eyes and presses her thumb and fingertips into her throbbing temples, wondering when the ibuprofen she’d taken earlier is going to kick in.
    â€œI told you not to…”
    â€œWhy do you always have to…”
    â€œI’m telling Mom!”
    When the ringing telephone chimes into the melee, the girls don’t miss a beat. They never bother to answer anything but their own cell phones.
    Normally Marin doesn’t, either, because you never know whether it’s going to be a reporter or Garvey calling from jail. Both tend to register—as this call does—as “private number” on the caller ID.
    But anything is better than listening to World War III.
    She picks up the receiver.
    â€œMarin! There you are!”
    Heather Cottington—the one old friend who’s stuck by her in the wake of Garvey’s scandal. Countless rounds of “I told you so” have been a relatively small price to pay for an adult confidante who, despite a high-profile allegiance with the opposing political party, wouldn’t dream of capitalizing on her proximity to the notorious Quinns.
    Plus Heather—who is married to a doctor and whose home medicine cabinet is a veritable pharmacy—is always happy to share her Ambien and Xanax with Marin, who, as Heather often says, needs it more than she does.
    â€œI’ve tried your cell twice this morning. I was getting worried.”
    â€œSorry. I didn’t hear the phone.”
    â€œReally? ”
    â€œReally . Maybe I accidentally silenced the ringer. Or maybe the battery’s dead.”
    Maybe she even lost the phone somewhere. Who knows? Who cares?
    Heather, who wears her Bluetooth headset like a diamond tiara, pauses dubiously before continuing, “So anyway, I thought I’d better check in and see how it’s going so far.”
    â€œYou mean the cleaning service?” Marin knows very well that’s not what this is about, but she isn’t in the mood for another head-spinning ride on the I-told-you-so carousel.
    â€œNot the cleaning service—but how are they doing?”
    â€œSo far, so good.”
    Actually, beyond the cursory apartment tour and going over the daily chore list, Marin has had very little interaction with the two women, which is fine with her, and also seemed fine with them. They rolled up their sleeves and got right to work. At the moment, they’re behind the closed French doors of the living room, vacuuming and moving furniture around.
    â€œWhat about your summer plan?” Heather asks, and adds, “Or should I say, nonplan?”
    â€œActually, that’s going pretty well, too.”
    â€œMom! ” Annie shrieks from down the hall. “She—”
    â€œOh my God, you are such a nosy little brat!” Caroline bellows.
    â€œStop it! Who do you think you—”
    â€œOwwwww! Get off me! Mom!”
    â€œYeah,” Heather says dryly on the other end of the phone, “sounds great.