Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer Lee Hollis (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📖

I ever made. Marrying Chester. Moving to Palm Springs. Getting involved in charity work. Traveling. I had a lot of happy years before Chester died and I found out he had been frittering away our savings, but that doesn’t take away from the life we created together.”

Matt nodded, although it was obvious to Poppy he did not really understand where she was coming from. He was young, his whole life was ahead of him, and he was far more ambitious than Poppy had ever been. It was only a matter of time before career opportunities would take Matt away from her. There was no doubt in her mind despite his adamant denials that at some point very soon, perhaps after the release of Palm Springs Weekend, and the whole world saw Matt in a substantial film role, he would finally ditch the Matt Flowers persona he had created for Poppy, Iris, and Violet to jump-start their private investigations business, and follow his true calling to become a working actor in Hollywood. It was sad to think about. But she was going to enjoy the remaining time left that she had with him, this man young enough to be her son, who had so unexpectedly wormed his way into her heart.

“Well, good night,” Matt said, leaning in to give her a sweet peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

“Not too early, get some rest. It’s been a very long day.” Poppy was saying it more for herself than Matt. There was no way she would make it to the office until at least the late morning hours.

Matt jumped out of Poppy’s car, crouched down to give her a wink, and then slammed the door shut, jogging up the driveway to his front door.

Poppy put the gear into drive and was about to pull away when her phone rang.

It was Sam calling.

She shifted back into park and picked up her phone.

“Hi, Sam.”

“The nurses tell me there is a very nice lady who has been calling a lot, and that I should feel lucky to have someone who cares so much,” Sam drawled, a bit drowsy but in good spirits.

Poppy smiled to herself. “How are you feeling tonight?”

“All right, I guess. But I’ll feel a whole lot better when I ditch these tubes and this lumpy hospital bed, and can go home and chow down on some real food, not this tasteless slop they serve up here.”

“I want to talk to you about that. . . .”

“You planning on making me a home-cooked meal when I get sprung?”

“Yes, we can discuss that, but I’m talking about you going home. I’ve been thinking about it and I believe it would be best if you—”

A crash startled Poppy, who jolted upright in her car seat. She glanced in the direction of the sound, Matt’s house, but at first saw nothing. The front door was wide open and the lights were on inside, but there was no sign of Matt.

“Poppy?” Sam asked, wondering about the dead air on the phone.

Poppy pressed the button to lower the driver’s-side window when she heard the faint sound of grunting. Then, suddenly she saw Matt through the front window of his house grappling with another man who was dressed all in black and a stocking mask pulled over his head. They crashed into a floor lamp, knocking it over as they both battled to get the upper hand.

“Poppy, are you there?”

“Sam, I have to call you back!” Poppy screamed, dropping her phone on the passenger seat and struggling to free herself from her seat belt before springing out of the car. Despite her weary bones, she sprinted up the driveway and into the house where the man had just taken a roundhouse punch at Matt, clocking him on the chin and sending him hurtling to the floor. As he went down, Matt, who gripped a fistful of the man’s shirt, nearly tore half the sleeve off. The brute then began viciously kicking Matt in the rib cage, nearly beating him senseless.

Poppy screeched at the top of her lungs, leaping onto the man’s back, surprising him.

“What the—?” he exclaimed, his knees buckling.

Poppy wrapped her legs around his waist and started to pummel him on the head to slow him down. But the sudden attack only seemed to rile him up even more, and with a burst of strength he wheeled around and slammed Poppy against the wall, her breath whooshing out of her, as she sank to the floor, dizzy and dazed, her eyes on Matt, who was crumpled up, moaning.

The assailant bolted out the door. Poppy crawled to the window just in time to see the black-clad attacker vanish into the darkness of the night. Then, on her hands and knees, she crawled over to Matt, who was on his side, and gently rolled him over on his back so he was looking up at her.

“Matt, are you okay?”

“Yeah, the dude caught me off guard. He must have been hiding in the bushes, lying in wait. I had just unlocked the door and was halfway inside the house, turning the lights on when all of a sudden he came out of nowhere and pounced.”

“Do you have any idea who it was?”

“Not with that stocking over his face.”

Poppy nodded slightly, discouraged.

“But when I tore part of his shirt off, I got a good look at his arm. The guy had some kind of tattoo. Very colorful and unique. Kind of reminded me of a Pink Floyd album.”

Poppy cocked an eyebrow. “How are you even old enough to know who Pink Floyd is?”

“My dad was a huge music lover. He schooled me on all the great seventies bands,” Matt chuckled, wincing in pain, clutching his rib cage as he tried to stand up.

“Here, let me help you,” Poppy said, gripping him underneath his arm as he hauled himself to his feet, holding tight until he was able to steady himself.

“Two car wrecks. Three physical assaults. I’m beginning to