Read Online Dead By Midnight by Carolyn Hart - Free Book Online Page B

asleep. Pat wasn’t anywhere, not in the living room or the bedroom or little den or kitchen or bathroom. I was puzzled because her car was outside. Gertrude followed me all around. I went right through the house and out into the backyard thinking maybe she’d fallen and”—Mrs. Croft clapped her hands together—“here she came up the boardwalk. I told her I was so glad she was all right, that I’d come to check because her lights were on so late. She gave me a hug and said she had trouble sleeping and she’d gone for a walk.” Mrs. Croft’s animation fled. “After that I noticed her lights were on late every night. I didn’t worry about her Friday night. I thought she’d gone for another late walk.”
    M ax took a half spoon of raspberry and a half spoon of chocolate. “ . . . love to have a watercolor of the pier, a summer scene with people fishing.” His expression was enthusiastic.
    Edna Graham smiled, easing the severity of an angular face with heavy dark eyebrows and strong nose and square chin. “I have several new watercolors of the pier.” Her eyes shone with eagerness. “I could bring some to your office tomorrow over my lunch hour.”
    “That would be great.” His tone was hearty. Edna was reputed to be a superb legal secretary. He’d seen several of her paintings at the local artists’ community show at the library and they were pale and subdued for his taste. But a man in search of information did what a man had to do. “It’s outstanding that you have a successful career and find time to paint as well. Do you find painting a relief from the stress of your job?”
    Max found Edna’s expression uncannily similar to one of his mother’s Cat Truth posters: a thick-furred, brown rosette-tabby Pixie-Bob, its wide rounded head held in a pose of supreme satisfaction: Tell me again how fine I am.
    “Oh”—her sigh was heartfelt—“you can’t imagine how stressful work can be. Everything has to be right when you are a legal secretary. No mistakes.” Her chin jutted. “I don’t make mistakes.”
    “I suppose it’s been even harder since Pat Merridew left the firm.”
    Edna looked offended. “Pat wasn’t a legal secretary. Believe me, no one would have trusted her with substantive work. She was a receptionist. She didn’t have anything to do with legal matters.” Her tone indicated disdain. Then her angular face softened. “Poor Pat. Such a shock about her death. Everyone’s awfully sorry. I can’t imagine anyone dying at her age.” There was a flicker in her eyes, the recognition of mortality sparked by unexpected death.
    Max gave it one last try. “So Pat wasn’t privy to confidential information that would burden her.”
    “No.” Edna’s reply was unconcerned. She glanced at her watch. “I must get back. I have a contract to finish. I’ll come to your office at noon tomorrow.”
    A nnie stopped at her car, tossed her purse in the trunk, then hurried around the side of Pat’s cottage. The backyard was shallow. Spanish moss and resurrection ferns dotted the live oaks. A slight breeze stirred dangling willow fronds. Patches of grass spread in irregular clumps on the dusty gray ground. A boardwalk led from the back steps of the cottage to an opening in the pine woods. Annie recalled the geography. She thought much of the wooded area behind Pat’s house was part of a nature preserve.
    Lights gleaming late at night had drawn Mrs. Croft across the street. She had found Pat’s house empty and found Pat in the backyard coming up the boardwalk.
    Annie looked at the woods. She had a healthy respect for island woods after dark when a fox might nose cautiously through undergrowth or a bobcat wait in ambush for an unwary deer. Yet Pat Merridew had been returning from the woods when Mrs. Croft came to check. Moreover, Mrs. Croft became accustomed to lights on late at night in Pat’s house, which suggested her foray into the woods might have been repeated. Maybe the deep darkness