4th of July by James Patterson & Maxine Paetro

Author:James Patterson & Maxine Paetro [Patterson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Detective, Mystery, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Programming, Mystery & Detective - General, Fiction, Suspense, General, Computers - Languages, Women's Murder Club
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2010-04-25T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter 74

JOE COOKED BACON AND scrambled eggs in the dazzling light pouring through the

kitchen windows. I filled mugs with coffee, and Joe read the squint in my eyes

for the unspoken question that it was.

“I’m here until I get the call. If you want, I’ll help you brainstorm the

murders.”

We got into the Explorer with Joe at the wheel and Martha on my lap. I filled

Joe in on the Sarduccis as we slowly cruised past their glass house beside the

bay.

Then we headed up to Crescent Heights, taking the snaking dirt road to the door

of the Daltrys’ abandoned little house.

If ever a house looked devastated by murder, this was it. The front lawn had

gone to seed, boards had been hammered over the windows and the doors, and

scraps of crime scene tape fluttered like little yellow birds in the bushes.

“Very different socioeconomic class from the Sarduccis,” said Joe.

“Yeah. I don’t think these murders have anything to do with money.”

We pointed the Explorer down the mountain and within a few minutes we entered

Ocean Colony, the golf course–bordered community where the O’Malleys had lived

and died. I pointed out the white colonial with blue shutters as we neared it.

Now there was a For Sale sign in the front yard and a Lincoln in the driveway.

We parked at the curb and saw a blond woman in a pink Lilly Pulitzer dress exit

the house and lock the front door. When she saw us, her face stretched into a

heavily lipsticked smile.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m Emily Harris, Pacific Homes Real Estate. I’m sorry; the

open house is Sunday. I can’t show you the home now because I have an

appointment in town. . . .”

My face must have shown disappointment, and I saw Ms. Harris size us up as

likely prospects.

“Listen. Replace the key in the lockbox on your way out. Okay?”

We got out of the car, and I linked my arm through Joe’s. Looking every bit the

married couple shopping for our new home, Joe and I climbed the front steps and

unlocked the O’Malleys’ front door.

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