Exactly what are you supposed to do when you find a body in your bed? Samantha wondered that the day she came home and found one curled up on her perfect comforter. Dark stubble graced his chiseled chin. But he was obviously dead. The trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and pooling under his chin left no doubt.
Robert. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been clothed, lounging against the bar with one meaty hand around a beer bottle. Glancing sideways at him, Samantha found a booth as far away from him as she could get. She didn’t want to see him. Or talk to him either.
Now he lay dead on top of her bed. Samantha sighed and dialed 911. At least she didn’t have to worry about talking to him again.