Read Online On the Street Where you Live by Mary Higgins Clark - Free Book Online Page A

wish I had those old letters and albums that got burned in the garage fire years ago. But I’ll see what I can dredge up.”
    â€œLove you, Gran.”
    â€œYou’re not trying to figure out what happened to Madeline after all these years?”
    â€œYou never know.”
    Emily’s next call was to the prosecutor’s office. When she gave her name she was put through immediately to Elliot Osborne.
    â€œI watched the news,” she said. “By any chance was the ring you found a sapphire surrounded by small diamonds?”
    â€œIt was.”
    â€œWas it on the ring finger of the right hand?”
    There was a pause. “How do you know that, Ms. Graham?” Osborne asked.
    After she had hung up, Emily walked across the room, opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch. She walked around the side of the house to the back, where the investigative unit was still sifting through the dirt.
    They had found Madeline’s ring and finger bone inwith Martha Lawrence. The rest of Madeline’s remains were found just inches below the plastic shroud. In her mind’s eye, Emily could vividly see her great-great-grandaunt as she must have been on that sunny afternoon. Sitting on the porch, in a white linen dress, dark brown hair cascading around her shoulders, nineteen years old, and in love. Awaiting her fiancé, who was bringing an engagement ring to her.
    Was it possible after one hundred and ten years to learn what had happened to her? Someone found out where she was buried, Emily thought, and chose to bury Martha Lawrence with her.
    Deep in thought, her hands in the pockets of her jeans, she went back inside.

thirteen ________________
    W ILL S TAFFORD HAD a 9:00 A.M. closing on a commercial office building in Sea Girt, the next town from Spring Lake. As soon as he returned to his office, he tried to call Emily, but her phone had not yet been connected, and he didn’t have the number of her cell phone.
    It was nearly noon when he reached her. “I went to New York right after your closing yesterday,” he explained, “and didn’t know what was going on until I heard it on the news late last night. I’m so sorry for the Lawrences, and I’m sorry for you.”
    It was gratifying to hear the concern in his voice. “By any chance did you see the interview with the prosecutor?” she asked.
    â€œYes, I did. Pat, my receptionist, came in to tell me it was on. Do you think that by any chance . . . ?”
    She knew the question he was going to ask. “Do I think that the ring they found in Martha Lawrence’s hand belonged to Madeline Shapley? I know it did. I spoke to my grandmother, and she was able to describe the ring from what she’d heard about it.”
    â€œThen all these years your great-great-grandaunt has been buried on the property.”
    â€œIt would seem so,” Emily said.
    â€œSomeone knew that, and put Martha’s body with hers. But how would anyone have known where Madeline Shapley was buried?” Will Stafford sounded as puzzled as Emily felt.
    â€œIf there is an answer to that, I intend to try to find it,” she told him. “Will, I’d like to meet the Lawrences. Do you know them?”
    â€œYes, I do. They used to entertain pretty frequently before Martha disappeared. I was often at their house, and, of course, I see them around town.”
    â€œWould you call and ask if they would allow you to bring me over for a short visit whenever they’re up to it?”
    He did not question her reason for asking. “I’ll get back to you,” he promised.
    Twenty minutes later the voice of the receptionist, Pat Glynn, came over the intercom. “Mr. Stafford, Natalie Frieze is here. She wants to see you for a few minutes.”
    Just what I need, Will thought. Natalie was the second wife of Bob Frieze, a longtime Spring Lake resident. Nearly five years ago, Bob had retired from his