Read Online Murder in Merino by Sally Goldenbaum - Free Book Online Page A

and iced tea were waiting.
    Birdie paused for a minute, looking back toward the hill leading up to the Ridge Road neighborhood. She pushed her sunglasses into her short white hair and squinted. “Isn’t that Jules down there?”
    Izzy and Nell stopped and looked back down the road toward the hill.
    Jules Ainsley stood at the edge of the road, her profile visible as she stared up the hill. For a moment she appeared to be frozen, her body unnaturally immobile. Then one hand lifted to her mouth, as if suppressing a cry.
    Birdie started to move in that direction, to call out, but she stopped before the words were formed, instinctively knowing it was a moment that defied interruption.
    An eerie moment.
    Jules’s head was held back as if tethered in place. Her eyes were focused on something in the trees and bushes that covered the hill like a briar patch, as if seeing something visible only to her. It was a look of awe, they agreed later. A look of disbelief.
    A look that was seeing a mirage, or a miracle in motion, or something else entirely.
    A look that was aimed directly at the hill leading up to the Perrys’ cottage.

Chapter 7
    B en said they were all overreacting. “You’re forgetting that she’s a tourist. That’s what tourists do—look at things.” He put the morning paper aside and took off his glasses.
    “Stare,” Izzy corrected around a mouthful of scone. “Definitely a stare.” She checked her watch.
    “It was a bit unusual,” Birdie agreed. “And not to disparage Izzy’s old house, but that hill behind it isn’t very pretty. Jules could have found many more beautiful spots to admire if she was out seeing the sights.”
    “You’re absolutely right,” Izzy agreed. “That back area is a mess. Sam kept thinking he’d do something about it—a person could die in that tangle of weeds and bushes and never be found. But in the end we decided to lower the price and leave the yard work for the next guy. That land is actually owned by the city, so it’s always iffy who should take care of it.”
    She knelt down beside the stroller, her long legs bending like a ballet dancer’s. She touched Abby’s cheek, then looked up. “I need to get home, shower, and get to the shop. You’re sure you don’t mind keeping Abby today, Aunt Nell? The class I’m teaching should be over around four.”
    Nell simply smiled.
Mind?
What a silly question. Mind watching this beautiful baby who had brought such joy into their lives? Her day with Abby, written on the calendar with a bright red marker, was the highlight of her week.
    The day was planned. She’d take Birdie home, run errands, and then lunch with Ben at the yacht club, where they would show off Abby’s smile to the hostess, Liz, to the bartenders, the diners. Later she and Abby would head to the Sea Harbor Historical Museum for a short meeting in which Abby would be welcomed by the board members as warmly as an unexpected donation to fix the roof. Amazing the power babies had.
    Izzy planted one last kiss on Abby’s plump cheek and was out the door, followed in minutes by Ben, off to a meeting at City Hall.
    “It doesn’t happen often, but he’s wrong, you know.” Birdie looked at Ben’s departing back. She gathered up her sweater and backpack and headed toward the door.
    Nell picked up the infant seat with its precious cargo and followed her to the car without answering. Birdie was absolutely right, of course.
    Tourist or not, Julia Ainsley couldn’t possibly have been in awe of the tangled jungle that had once been the hill in Izzy’s backyard. Something else had stilled the lovely runner into that silent stare. In whatever form it had come—a sudden memory, a dream, a thought—Julia Ainsley had seen a ghost.
    A ghost on Ridge Road.
    It was nearly two in the afternoon when Nell and baby Abby finished their errands and parked near the museum. With both Beatrice Scaglia and Karen Hanson on the museum board, it was certain the premeeting chatter