Read Online The Perfect Coed (Oak Grove Mysteries Book 1) by Judy Alter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Judy Alter
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it sat on its own two acres of land. But inside it was totally, well, Jake. For several years, Jake had been gradually fixing it up, beginning with a complete redo of the kitchen. He’d installed a gas cook top, a Jenn-Air indoor grill, a convection oven, a dishwasher, and garbage compactor—Susan laughed at the latter as absolutely useless. He’d used gray tiles on the counters, backsplash, and floor to complement the white walls. The appliances had brushed steel finishes. The result was a clean, streamlined look that spoke of serious dedication to cooking.
Following the standard plan for 1960s houses, his front door opened into a hall with a living room to the right and a dining room beyond that. Straight ahead lay the ubiquitous paneled family room, only Jake had painted the paneling a soft off-white that lightened the room. The bedroom wing was off the hall to the left, but to get to the kitchen you had to go through either the dining room or the family room. A bar-height counter connected family room and kitchen. The front bedroom served as a sort of television room, though Jake read more than he watched the tube, and the room’s walls were lined with bookcases. Several shelves held popular paperbacks, everything from John Grisham and John LeCarré to Louis L’Amour. The middle bedroom was a guest room—maybe Aunt Jenny should stay there, Susan thought—and the larger back bedroom was Jake’s, done in dark green with tan accents. Unlike the other bedrooms, it had its own master bath.
Susan left her house a little after six, after going around locking all the windows and turning on all the lights. She locked the door behind her and even went back once to try it. I’m turning into a nervous Nellie, she thought unhappily. Once my house becomes a threat instead of a safe haven, I’ve had it. And then it occurred to her that was exactly what this crazy person was trying to accomplish—make her afraid in the places where she felt most safe. Defiantly she strode across her deck, keeping her eyes averted from that damn shoebox. Gunning the moped into action, she whirled past Mrs. Whitley’s house and saw that lady peeking out through discreetly parted curtains.
She headed south on Main, which soon turned into FM 1161, to where Jake lived. Always uneasy now, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw a small, dark car close on her tail. She sped up as much as she could, pushing the moped to forty, a speed that made her feel giddily dangerous. The dark car stayed close behind.
I wish I were smarter about cars. I have no idea if that’s the car that tried to kill me before or not. They look the same, but… If the driver of that car wants to kill me, he’s got a perfect shot on this empty country road. Her heart was pounding, and she had a hard time concentrating on keeping the speeding moped on course. Suddenly, the car behind her veered to the left, gunned its motor, and passed, quickly leaving her behind.
Damn my imagination, Susan said to herself. If I’d been thinking, I’d have known that even a sociopath wouldn’t go to all the elaborate trouble of leaving a dead kitten at my door only to kill me within the hour.
Jake greeted her with open arms, as he’d promised. His words of welcome were less comforting. “You look like hell,” he said. “What happened?”
She pulled herself from his arms, avoiding looking at him. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just been a long day.”
“The memorial service?” he asked.
Well, it wasn’t a lie. It was just another instance where she wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Yeah,” she said. “That upset me.”
His arms went around her again. “You meant well, Susan. I never doubted that. It’s just… well, you hadn’t met the parents, and I had. I should have warned you. Come on, I’ll get you a glass of wine.”
She didn’t tell him she’d already had bourbon. That drink seemed long ago and far away, and he might have scolded her for riding the
Following the standard plan for 1960s houses, his front door opened into a hall with a living room to the right and a dining room beyond that. Straight ahead lay the ubiquitous paneled family room, only Jake had painted the paneling a soft off-white that lightened the room. The bedroom wing was off the hall to the left, but to get to the kitchen you had to go through either the dining room or the family room. A bar-height counter connected family room and kitchen. The front bedroom served as a sort of television room, though Jake read more than he watched the tube, and the room’s walls were lined with bookcases. Several shelves held popular paperbacks, everything from John Grisham and John LeCarré to Louis L’Amour. The middle bedroom was a guest room—maybe Aunt Jenny should stay there, Susan thought—and the larger back bedroom was Jake’s, done in dark green with tan accents. Unlike the other bedrooms, it had its own master bath.
Susan left her house a little after six, after going around locking all the windows and turning on all the lights. She locked the door behind her and even went back once to try it. I’m turning into a nervous Nellie, she thought unhappily. Once my house becomes a threat instead of a safe haven, I’ve had it. And then it occurred to her that was exactly what this crazy person was trying to accomplish—make her afraid in the places where she felt most safe. Defiantly she strode across her deck, keeping her eyes averted from that damn shoebox. Gunning the moped into action, she whirled past Mrs. Whitley’s house and saw that lady peeking out through discreetly parted curtains.
She headed south on Main, which soon turned into FM 1161, to where Jake lived. Always uneasy now, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw a small, dark car close on her tail. She sped up as much as she could, pushing the moped to forty, a speed that made her feel giddily dangerous. The dark car stayed close behind.
I wish I were smarter about cars. I have no idea if that’s the car that tried to kill me before or not. They look the same, but… If the driver of that car wants to kill me, he’s got a perfect shot on this empty country road. Her heart was pounding, and she had a hard time concentrating on keeping the speeding moped on course. Suddenly, the car behind her veered to the left, gunned its motor, and passed, quickly leaving her behind.
Damn my imagination, Susan said to herself. If I’d been thinking, I’d have known that even a sociopath wouldn’t go to all the elaborate trouble of leaving a dead kitten at my door only to kill me within the hour.
Jake greeted her with open arms, as he’d promised. His words of welcome were less comforting. “You look like hell,” he said. “What happened?”
She pulled herself from his arms, avoiding looking at him. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just been a long day.”
“The memorial service?” he asked.
Well, it wasn’t a lie. It was just another instance where she wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Yeah,” she said. “That upset me.”
His arms went around her again. “You meant well, Susan. I never doubted that. It’s just… well, you hadn’t met the parents, and I had. I should have warned you. Come on, I’ll get you a glass of wine.”
She didn’t tell him she’d already had bourbon. That drink seemed long ago and far away, and he might have scolded her for riding the
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