Read Online Dead By Midnight by Carolyn Hart - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carolyn Hart
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directly across the street. The one-story, pale lemon stucco house belonged to Mrs. Charlene Croft. About a hundred yards away was a gray stone ranch house. She glanced at her sheet. The owner was Mark McGrath. Pat’s drive and front porch were visible on an oblique line from the McGrath home.
She walked across the dusty unpaved road to the Croft home. Squirrels chittered and blue jays scolded as she knocked on the screen door. It popped open and a tiny, rail-thin woman with a mass of white curls and curious brown eyes peered at her.
Annie smiled. “Mrs. Croft?”
“You aren’t the nurse’s aide.” There was a quick frown. “Well, I’m not buying anything.”
As the door started to close, Annie said quickly, “I’m here because of Pat Merridew.”
The door was pushed wide. “Oh.” Her soft voice was quavery. “Such a shame. She was the nicest neighbor. When I broke my hip, she brought me casseroles and stayed to visit. She kept up with everyone in the neighborhood. The McGraths”—Mrs. Croft gestured to her left—“go to Minnesota every summer and Pat kept an eye on everything for them.”
“Are they gone now?”
Mrs. Croft nodded. “They left two weeks ago.” She cocked her head like an eager bird. “Are you family?”
“No, ma’am. I’m Annie Darling. I own the bookstore on the marina and Pat had just started to work for me.”
She nodded, the white curls quivering. “Pat told me she had a new job.” The wrinkled face drooped. “She was so excited. And now she’s gone. Are you taking up a memorial? I’ll get my purse.”
“Oh, no. I’m hoping to find out who visited her the night she died. You know, it would be helpful to the family to know if she had begun to feel ill.”
“Why, that’s the oddest thing. A police lady came by just a few minutes ago and asked me the same thing. I think it’s very nice of everyone to want to know what happened. But no one came to see her that night.”
Annie felt an instant of shock. “We were sure someone came.”
Mrs. Croft’s head shake was decided. “I sat on my front porch from supper time on in my swing. I was reading Ann Ross’s new book and I tell you I laughed until I almost cried and I didn’t move until it was almost ten, and the police lady said that a friend talked to Pat and she was sitting down to eat at six o’clock and I know that’s right because that’s when she always ate, and the police lady said that meant she died sometime between eight and nine o’clock.”
Annie understood. Time of death had been estimated on the basis of the state of digestion of her final meal.
Mrs. Croft looked regretful. “I should have known something was wrong when I looked out about two-thirty in the morning—I got up to rub some liniment on my hip—and her lights were still on. But I didn’t go check again because her lights had been on late ever since she lost her job at the law firm.”
Annie almost ended the conversation there. She was ready to speak when one word registered. “You ‘didn’t go check again’?”
Mrs. Croft nodded energetically. “Pat used to go to bed at ten every night after the evening news. You must think I am the world’s nosiest neighbor”—her smile was quick—“but I have bursitis and some nights I can’t sleep because of the pain. I get up and walk around and I was used to seeing Pat’s lights go off. Well, more than a week ago, the lights were on and it was past midnight. I was worried that maybe she was sick, so I put on my robe and shoes and went across and knocked on the door. And you know what?”
Annie shook her head.
“She didn’t answer the door.” Mrs. Croft’s tone was portentous.
Annie tried not to reveal her disappointment.
“That worried me, so I tried the door. Pat never bothered to lock up until right before she went to bed. I stepped inside and called out. No answer. I started looking around. Gertrude came up to me in a minute, though I could tell she’d been
She walked across the dusty unpaved road to the Croft home. Squirrels chittered and blue jays scolded as she knocked on the screen door. It popped open and a tiny, rail-thin woman with a mass of white curls and curious brown eyes peered at her.
Annie smiled. “Mrs. Croft?”
“You aren’t the nurse’s aide.” There was a quick frown. “Well, I’m not buying anything.”
As the door started to close, Annie said quickly, “I’m here because of Pat Merridew.”
The door was pushed wide. “Oh.” Her soft voice was quavery. “Such a shame. She was the nicest neighbor. When I broke my hip, she brought me casseroles and stayed to visit. She kept up with everyone in the neighborhood. The McGraths”—Mrs. Croft gestured to her left—“go to Minnesota every summer and Pat kept an eye on everything for them.”
“Are they gone now?”
Mrs. Croft nodded. “They left two weeks ago.” She cocked her head like an eager bird. “Are you family?”
“No, ma’am. I’m Annie Darling. I own the bookstore on the marina and Pat had just started to work for me.”
She nodded, the white curls quivering. “Pat told me she had a new job.” The wrinkled face drooped. “She was so excited. And now she’s gone. Are you taking up a memorial? I’ll get my purse.”
“Oh, no. I’m hoping to find out who visited her the night she died. You know, it would be helpful to the family to know if she had begun to feel ill.”
“Why, that’s the oddest thing. A police lady came by just a few minutes ago and asked me the same thing. I think it’s very nice of everyone to want to know what happened. But no one came to see her that night.”
Annie felt an instant of shock. “We were sure someone came.”
Mrs. Croft’s head shake was decided. “I sat on my front porch from supper time on in my swing. I was reading Ann Ross’s new book and I tell you I laughed until I almost cried and I didn’t move until it was almost ten, and the police lady said that a friend talked to Pat and she was sitting down to eat at six o’clock and I know that’s right because that’s when she always ate, and the police lady said that meant she died sometime between eight and nine o’clock.”
Annie understood. Time of death had been estimated on the basis of the state of digestion of her final meal.
Mrs. Croft looked regretful. “I should have known something was wrong when I looked out about two-thirty in the morning—I got up to rub some liniment on my hip—and her lights were still on. But I didn’t go check again because her lights had been on late ever since she lost her job at the law firm.”
Annie almost ended the conversation there. She was ready to speak when one word registered. “You ‘didn’t go check again’?”
Mrs. Croft nodded energetically. “Pat used to go to bed at ten every night after the evening news. You must think I am the world’s nosiest neighbor”—her smile was quick—“but I have bursitis and some nights I can’t sleep because of the pain. I get up and walk around and I was used to seeing Pat’s lights go off. Well, more than a week ago, the lights were on and it was past midnight. I was worried that maybe she was sick, so I put on my robe and shoes and went across and knocked on the door. And you know what?”
Annie shook her head.
“She didn’t answer the door.” Mrs. Croft’s tone was portentous.
Annie tried not to reveal her disappointment.
“That worried me, so I tried the door. Pat never bothered to lock up until right before she went to bed. I stepped inside and called out. No answer. I started looking around. Gertrude came up to me in a minute, though I could tell she’d been
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