Read Online Death Storms the Shore (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 4) by Noreen Wald - Free Book Online
Authors: Noreen Wald
Tags: amateur sleuth books
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hadn’t been reported anywhere.”
“I had no idea Walt was dead. How could I have known?” S. J. sounded sincere, but then she sold real estate for a living. “I did know he would be moving. Nevada? Arizona? Somewhere in the desert He’d listed his condo with me yesterday afternoon. Before the hurricane hit. His asking price seemed very low. I had the impression Walt must be in a hurry to sell, to move. He said his attorney would act as his agent, handle all the details. This morning I decided I wanted the apartment for myself, and I made my bid. Weatherwise’s attorney accepted it.”
“Really?” Marlene sounded doubtful, but Kate figured the Realtor must have documentation to back up her story.“Were you and Weatherwise friends?”
“Let’s say Walt and I traveled in the same social set.” S. J. kept smiling. “Miss Mitford tells me the police are conducting a thorough search of the condo, so, though I’m dying to start renovating, I have to hold off.”
“Murder can be bloody inconvenient,” Marlene said. Ignoring Marlene, S. J. turned to Kate. “I can’t wait to live here, Kate. I think we’re going to be great friends.
Thirteen
Tuesday, July 4, Fifty-Six Years Ago
“I think we’re going to be great friends,” Sophie had said as they parted the previous afternoon.
Her words lingered in this morning’s memory.
“I don’t want to go to Rockaway, Mom.” Kate grabbed the jar of peanut butter and slammed the refrigerator door. “Can’t I stay home with Etta?”
“Your grandmother is coming with us, Kate. It’s the Fourth of July. Families celebrate together.” Maggie Norton sighed. “And don’t you dare bang that door again. Do you have any idea how much money your father spent on my present? It’s a Westinghouse, Kate.”
As if Kate could forget the brand name. She’d only heard it two thousand times since Christmas.
The iceman used to deliver once a week. Messy business, but kind of fun. Her mother and grandmother often slipped, referring to the fancy new refrigerator as an icebox.
“Kate, pay attention.” Her mother sounded annoyed. “You need to treat everything in this house with respect. Even appliances.”
“Okay, I’ll try.” Kate meant it. She’d always been a compulsively neat but careless girl, breaking glasses, dropping dishes. “But, listen, Mom, I can stay here alone. I’m thirteen. You let me babysit the Martins’ kids; why won’t you let me spend a holiday by myself?”
Kate put two slices of toasted Wonder bread on a blue china plate and covered them both with peanut butter and strawberry jam.
“And why can’t you use the everyday dishes?” Her mother was filling a gallon-size Thermos with grape juice.
“Because I like nice things, because food tastes better served on a china plate, and because the way you hoard the Wedgwood, we’ll all wear out before it does.”
“Watch your mouth, Katharine Norton.” The full name treatment.
Kate had gone too far. She might as well change into her suit right after breakfast. Squeezing her Lipton tea bag hard against the china cup, she knew she’d be spending the day on the beach.
Etta entered the kitchen, her silver bob covered with a wide-brim, navy blue beach hat that matched her old-fashioned skirted bathing suit. She was buttoning up an ankle-length terry cloth robe. “I’m ready. Should I start on the sandwiches? Egg salad?”
“Yes, please.” Kate’s mother smiled. If she resented her mother-in-law living with them, Maggie Norton had never shown it.
Kate felt good about them getting along. Marlene’s mother was always fighting with her mother-in-law, who lived in Rego Park and only visited on Sundays. Such scenes. Poor Mr. Friedman, caught in the middle.
“Are you sure you don’t want to invite Marlene?” Her grandmother ventured where Kate and her mother hadn’t gone. For seven summers, every Saturday and most Sundays, Marlene had driven down to Rockaway with the
“I had no idea Walt was dead. How could I have known?” S. J. sounded sincere, but then she sold real estate for a living. “I did know he would be moving. Nevada? Arizona? Somewhere in the desert He’d listed his condo with me yesterday afternoon. Before the hurricane hit. His asking price seemed very low. I had the impression Walt must be in a hurry to sell, to move. He said his attorney would act as his agent, handle all the details. This morning I decided I wanted the apartment for myself, and I made my bid. Weatherwise’s attorney accepted it.”
“Really?” Marlene sounded doubtful, but Kate figured the Realtor must have documentation to back up her story.“Were you and Weatherwise friends?”
“Let’s say Walt and I traveled in the same social set.” S. J. kept smiling. “Miss Mitford tells me the police are conducting a thorough search of the condo, so, though I’m dying to start renovating, I have to hold off.”
“Murder can be bloody inconvenient,” Marlene said. Ignoring Marlene, S. J. turned to Kate. “I can’t wait to live here, Kate. I think we’re going to be great friends.
Thirteen
Tuesday, July 4, Fifty-Six Years Ago
“I think we’re going to be great friends,” Sophie had said as they parted the previous afternoon.
Her words lingered in this morning’s memory.
“I don’t want to go to Rockaway, Mom.” Kate grabbed the jar of peanut butter and slammed the refrigerator door. “Can’t I stay home with Etta?”
“Your grandmother is coming with us, Kate. It’s the Fourth of July. Families celebrate together.” Maggie Norton sighed. “And don’t you dare bang that door again. Do you have any idea how much money your father spent on my present? It’s a Westinghouse, Kate.”
As if Kate could forget the brand name. She’d only heard it two thousand times since Christmas.
The iceman used to deliver once a week. Messy business, but kind of fun. Her mother and grandmother often slipped, referring to the fancy new refrigerator as an icebox.
“Kate, pay attention.” Her mother sounded annoyed. “You need to treat everything in this house with respect. Even appliances.”
“Okay, I’ll try.” Kate meant it. She’d always been a compulsively neat but careless girl, breaking glasses, dropping dishes. “But, listen, Mom, I can stay here alone. I’m thirteen. You let me babysit the Martins’ kids; why won’t you let me spend a holiday by myself?”
Kate put two slices of toasted Wonder bread on a blue china plate and covered them both with peanut butter and strawberry jam.
“And why can’t you use the everyday dishes?” Her mother was filling a gallon-size Thermos with grape juice.
“Because I like nice things, because food tastes better served on a china plate, and because the way you hoard the Wedgwood, we’ll all wear out before it does.”
“Watch your mouth, Katharine Norton.” The full name treatment.
Kate had gone too far. She might as well change into her suit right after breakfast. Squeezing her Lipton tea bag hard against the china cup, she knew she’d be spending the day on the beach.
Etta entered the kitchen, her silver bob covered with a wide-brim, navy blue beach hat that matched her old-fashioned skirted bathing suit. She was buttoning up an ankle-length terry cloth robe. “I’m ready. Should I start on the sandwiches? Egg salad?”
“Yes, please.” Kate’s mother smiled. If she resented her mother-in-law living with them, Maggie Norton had never shown it.
Kate felt good about them getting along. Marlene’s mother was always fighting with her mother-in-law, who lived in Rego Park and only visited on Sundays. Such scenes. Poor Mr. Friedman, caught in the middle.
“Are you sure you don’t want to invite Marlene?” Her grandmother ventured where Kate and her mother hadn’t gone. For seven summers, every Saturday and most Sundays, Marlene had driven down to Rockaway with the
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