Quiet as the Grave by Kathleen O'Brien

Author:Kathleen O'Brien [O'Brien, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2006-12-01T06:00:00+00:00

SUZIE WAS FUMING.

Darn it, she was not a wimp. She was not a scaredy-cat. She was not the kind of girlie girl who got spooked every time a boy blew in her ear and said “boo.”

But, though she’d sat out here in front of the Justine’s house for at least ten minutes now, long enough for the sunny afternoon to turn gray and rainy, she could not work up the nerve to get out of the car.

She drummed her hands on the steering wheel and watched the drops pelt the windshield. What the devil was the matter with her? So the house was creepy, with all those big, shadowy rooms sitting empty, listening for the sound of Justine’s footsteps. So the gardener was creepy, with dirty hands and his eyes that slithered all over your body until you felt dirty, too.

So what? “Creepy” was a mind-set, not a threat.

She needed to help Mike. She had to start somewhere.

But apparently she wasn’t quite ready to start with the gardener.

Maybe, she decided, she could just check things out, look around a little. If she went down to the lake, she could probably walk up the dock stairs unnoticed and get a glimpse of the property.

And she wouldn’t have to get quite as close to the house—or to that creepy gardener.

She drove about three houses down, to the open green space between estates that provided the legally required public lake access.

The rain had begun in earnest, so she rummaged in the backseat and found a jacket, pocketed her keys and headed down the wooden stairs that led to the beach, whistling to buck up her courage.

The path cut through the cliff was beautiful, lined with tall, green pines whose needles sparkled in the rain. The staircase provided a great view of the lake, a cool, dark gray under the heavy clouds.

She wondered how she’d mix that color, if she wanted to paint this scene. She’d need raw umber, ultramarine and white…but where would she get the shimmer of silver and green?

Focus, Suzie, she reminded herself. But thinking in terms of paints had become second nature. And she couldn’t really take herself seriously as Miss Marple, anyhow. She wanted to help Mike, but she had no idea how to go about it. Maybe Mrs. Frome had been right. Maybe the only thing Suzie had to offer was moral support.

Oh, well, she was here now. She might as well look.

When she reached the lake, she jogged through the rain until she drew even with the Frome mansion, which dwarfed the houses on either side.

Rats. She couldn’t see much from the lake, as she’d feared. Well, at least she’d confirmed that one piece of the puzzle. People out here couldn’t have witnessed the gruesome burial, but at the same time, no one up there could ever see what was happening directly under the cliff edge.

She was going to have to get closer if she wanted to look at the grounds. For a moment, as she stepped

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