Read Online The Cinderella Murder by Mary Higgins Clark, Alafair Burke - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Higgins Clark, Alafair Burke
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financial aid, too poor for private tuition. The plan had been for Nicole to attend UC Berkeley, but then the letter came in the mail: on-campus housing was full. She would need to find an apartment.
She remembered pleading with her father, the letter from Berkeley unfolded in front of him like a pink slip on the kitchen table. “I can do it, Dad. I’ll spend all my time in classes and the library anyway, so it’s only a matter of walking to and from campus once a day.Just a few blocks. They even have safety monitors to walk you home after dark.”
He had avoided eye contact with her as he endlessly twirled spaghetti around his fork. “You’re too young, Nicky. You’re just a girl. And it’s Berkeley. ” He said it like it was a war-torn country on the opposite side of the world, instead of a six-hour drive from their home in Irvine.
“Mom, please. Tell him. I’ve never gotten into any trouble. Ask any teachers at school. I do everything I’m supposed to do, all the time. I follow every rule. I can be trusted.”
Her mother was banging dishes around in the sink, but even in profile, Nicole could see her pursed lips. “We know all that, Nicky. But we won’t be there. Your teachers won’t be there. No one will be there to set the rules for you.”
It was only when Nicole started to cry that her mother finally turned off the running water, joined them at the table, and grasped both of Nicole’s hands in hers. “We know you, Nicole. I know you better than I even know myself, because you’re my baby. We can’t let you get lost .”
Nicole remembered looking to her father for some explanation, but he just nodded once at the certitude of her mother’s statement and continued to twirl his pasta.
Nicole had no idea what her parents meant at the time, but it would soon become apparent that her parents had indeed known their only daughter. Just like her family’s income bubble, young Nicole had been in a bubble of her own—her intelligence robust, but her personality still . . . inchoate. They had feared that she would be lost in the crowd. Unfortunately, her fate was worse.
The sound of a car horn brought her back to the present. Noticing the short stretch of open road in front of her, she gave a friendly wave to the honking driver behind her and pulled forward.
According to the GPS, she had twenty-nine more miles to go. Nicolehadn’t seen Dwight Cook since college, but she had read about him in the newspaper. Everyone in America had.
• • •
A full hour later, Nicole pulled into the crowded parking lot of an office park. The sleek glass buildings were surrounded by grass so green it looked spray painted. Above the entrance of the main building, giant purple letters spelled out the company name: REACH .
The young woman behind the high-gloss white desk in the lobby had piercings on the left side of her nose and through her right eyebrow. Nicole resisted the temptation to ask if her face felt crooked.
“Nicole Hunter, here to see Mr. Cook. I have an appointment.” For the first time in nearly eighteen years, she had used her maiden name when she had called. Even then, she hadn’t been certain that Dwight would remember her.
Nicole knew other people who still kept up with their college friends. Her neighbor Jenny had gone to school in New York but organized Bay Area mini-reunions once a year. And she knew from other friends that their Facebook pages were filled with shared photographs and remember-whens.
Of course, Nicole couldn’t even have a Facebook page. It would undermine the very purpose of having a clean slate with a new last name in a new city.
But even without her special circumstances, Nicole wouldn’t have stayed in touch with her college crowd. She never really had friends at UCLA, other than Susan. How lucky she had been to get paired with someone like her—someone who looked after her. She had won the roommate lottery.
It had been just the two of them freshman year.
She remembered pleading with her father, the letter from Berkeley unfolded in front of him like a pink slip on the kitchen table. “I can do it, Dad. I’ll spend all my time in classes and the library anyway, so it’s only a matter of walking to and from campus once a day.Just a few blocks. They even have safety monitors to walk you home after dark.”
He had avoided eye contact with her as he endlessly twirled spaghetti around his fork. “You’re too young, Nicky. You’re just a girl. And it’s Berkeley. ” He said it like it was a war-torn country on the opposite side of the world, instead of a six-hour drive from their home in Irvine.
“Mom, please. Tell him. I’ve never gotten into any trouble. Ask any teachers at school. I do everything I’m supposed to do, all the time. I follow every rule. I can be trusted.”
Her mother was banging dishes around in the sink, but even in profile, Nicole could see her pursed lips. “We know all that, Nicky. But we won’t be there. Your teachers won’t be there. No one will be there to set the rules for you.”
It was only when Nicole started to cry that her mother finally turned off the running water, joined them at the table, and grasped both of Nicole’s hands in hers. “We know you, Nicole. I know you better than I even know myself, because you’re my baby. We can’t let you get lost .”
Nicole remembered looking to her father for some explanation, but he just nodded once at the certitude of her mother’s statement and continued to twirl his pasta.
Nicole had no idea what her parents meant at the time, but it would soon become apparent that her parents had indeed known their only daughter. Just like her family’s income bubble, young Nicole had been in a bubble of her own—her intelligence robust, but her personality still . . . inchoate. They had feared that she would be lost in the crowd. Unfortunately, her fate was worse.
The sound of a car horn brought her back to the present. Noticing the short stretch of open road in front of her, she gave a friendly wave to the honking driver behind her and pulled forward.
According to the GPS, she had twenty-nine more miles to go. Nicolehadn’t seen Dwight Cook since college, but she had read about him in the newspaper. Everyone in America had.
• • •
A full hour later, Nicole pulled into the crowded parking lot of an office park. The sleek glass buildings were surrounded by grass so green it looked spray painted. Above the entrance of the main building, giant purple letters spelled out the company name: REACH .
The young woman behind the high-gloss white desk in the lobby had piercings on the left side of her nose and through her right eyebrow. Nicole resisted the temptation to ask if her face felt crooked.
“Nicole Hunter, here to see Mr. Cook. I have an appointment.” For the first time in nearly eighteen years, she had used her maiden name when she had called. Even then, she hadn’t been certain that Dwight would remember her.
Nicole knew other people who still kept up with their college friends. Her neighbor Jenny had gone to school in New York but organized Bay Area mini-reunions once a year. And she knew from other friends that their Facebook pages were filled with shared photographs and remember-whens.
Of course, Nicole couldn’t even have a Facebook page. It would undermine the very purpose of having a clean slate with a new last name in a new city.
But even without her special circumstances, Nicole wouldn’t have stayed in touch with her college crowd. She never really had friends at UCLA, other than Susan. How lucky she had been to get paired with someone like her—someone who looked after her. She had won the roommate lottery.
It had been just the two of them freshman year.
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