Read Online Cat Cross Their Graves by Shirley Rousseau Murphy - Free Book Online

twist in her life. The fourteen-year-old had learned quickly once she had knocked the chip off her shoulder. She’d settled in well to help with cleaning up the debris, filling the tarp-covered Dumpster that had been hauled up to the site; and in the old living room, which would become the new master bedroom, she was learning to mud and tape drywall. With the constant rain, all work seemed twice as hard—taking out the demolished drywall and wood scraps, hauling new building materials into the mudroom, trying to keep the house halfway clean. And then draining the foundation for the twenty-by-thirty-foot living room so they could at least frame the walls. The earth within was still a pool of mud, but the concrete foundation was firm and deep.
    â€œI always wanted a swimming pool,” Charlie said,looking out at the mud where the living room would rise.
    â€œDon’t knock it. Bring in a masseuse, add a steam room, you can make a bundle. Harpers’ spa, restorative soaks in Molena Point’s rare and rejuvenating beauty clay.” But Ryan looked at Charlie shyly, a bit embarrassed by making jokes this morning. “You promised to help the senior ladies with their garden today, if it didn’t rain. Will they go on with that, after last night? And even if they feel up to gardening, will the ground be dry enough?”
    â€œShould be nice and soft to get the weeds out. They’ve never had a problem with slides on that hill; there are railroad ties to retain it. Somewhere underneath there’s supposed to be a shoulder of granite running along above the canyon.” Charlie pushed back her unruly red hair. “The ladies will be up to it. Work is better than sitting around grieving. While they weed, I’m going to take out whatever geraniums they don’t want; I can pot them until we finish building. Those overgrown pelargoniums are magnificent.”
    â€œYou have so much time to garden. Five commissions pending for animal portraits, the picture book you’re working on, your own repair and cleaning business to oversee, to say nothing of the fact that you’re working for me on the house.”
    â€œYou can’t spare me this afternoon? Call it my lunch break.”
    Ryan laughed. “I can spare you. It comes out more even, for framing, with just Scotty and me, and Dillon doing the odd jobs.”
    Finishing her coffee, Charlie rinsed her cup andheaded for her soon-to-be studio. Ryan and Charlie and Max had planned the renovation together, the three of them taking their time, paying attention to how the sun would slant into the new great room with its high rafters and stone fireplace, how much more view down the falling hills the raised floor would allow. Standing in the front yard on ladders, they had made sure how much of the sea and the village rooftops would be visible.
    While the old living room became a large new master suite, their present bedroom would be Max’s study. The two smaller bedrooms would become Charlie’s spacious studio, and she could hardly wait. The renovation might seem wild to some, but to Charlie and Max and Ryan, it made perfect sense. By the time the phone rang at eleven-thirty, Charlie had finished the tear out and, with help from Scotty, had finished putting up the new drywall. She was drunk with the big new space; she wanted to whirl around shouting and swinging her arms, she could hardly wait to cut through the wall for the large new windows with their north light; but that would have to wait until the weather settled. Hurrying into the kitchen, she picked up the call.
    â€œIt’s Wilma. We haven’t found Kit, no one’s seen her. I just…” Wilma didn’t sound at all like herself. “She disappeared before…right after the murder. I didn’t tell you last night, I thought…” Charlie’s aunt, a tall, capable, no-nonsense former parole officer, was not given to a shaky voice and tears.