New Year's Eve Murder Read Online Free Page A

don’t think so. I think they have a beautiful relationship.”
    â€œWhat about your husband? Does he agree?”
    â€œHe likes Kevin very much.”
    I let it lie. Enough was enough. Arnold was right: We had done the obvious to death. The things I wanted to know about Susan I wasn’t going to find out from her mother and her boyfriend. Maybe if Kevin got desperate enough he would tell me what they had been talking about in the car, or maybe it was true that it had nothing to do with Susan’s disappearance. But Ada didn’t know about that conversation, and if her face reflected her feelings, she was sick with worry.
    Eventually I fed Eddie, and Harriet fed the rest of us. It took Jack and Kevin longer than I had expected, but even though traffic was light on the holiday, bureaucracies remain bureaucracies and the precinct was probably understaffed. When they finally returned, Ada was pacing and Arnold was snoring lightly in his chair.
    Jack had a healthy snack, and even Kevin grabbed a bite as I got together baby and belongings. We said rather long good-byes, Arnold awakening in time to see us go.
    â€œLet the police handle this,” he warned me. “You have enough to do.”
    â€œI have a telephone, Arnold. Maybe I can make some calls from home.”
    â€œWe’ll talk.”
    As we went out to the car, Jack said quietly in my ear, “When we get there, go inside with her and get a picture of Susan. Kevin took one out of his wallet at the station house.”
    â€œOK.”
    â€œAnd find out where she works.”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œShe’s twenty-eight and she’s a good-looking gal. I don’t like this at all.”
    I didn’t either, but I wasn’t sure how much I could do to help.
    â€”
    The Starks’ house was on a quiet, one-way street, just as Kevin had described it. The houses on the street were old and different from each other, constructed in a time before builders put up identical structures by the dozen. I went inside with Ada and she found a picture for me, slipping it out of its frame.
    â€œShe’s beautiful,” I said.
    Ada nodded, her eyes filling.
    I looked at her face. “She looks just like you. People must notice the resemblance all the time.”
    â€œThey do,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Come upstairs with me.”
    I followed her up gleaming hardwood stairs and saw immediately what she meant about Susan’s room. It was truly around a corner.
    â€œIn the summer I come in here and open a window to get cross-ventilation. But in the winter I don’t come in so much. The cleaning woman goes in to dust, but yesterday wasn’t her day. Chris, something’s happened to Susan. She was never here. Look around. Does this room look as though someone used it?”
    I had to admit it didn’t. It was neat, the bed made, no shoes on the floor, no pencils on the schoolgirl’s desk. It looked like a guest room waiting for a guest.
    I walked to the closet. “May I?”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    There were spring and summer clothes hanging on the rod. Susan used this closet to store her out-of-season clothes. On the floor was a pair of worn sneakers. I picked them up.
    â€œShe left those here for something to change into,” Ada said. “And there are jeans in the drawer.” She went and opened a dresser drawer.
    There were jeans, shirts, and sweaters, all looking rather worn but comfortable. In another drawer were socks and underclothes. I walked over to the desk and opened drawers. They were filled not with the usual stationery items, but with mementoes of Susan’s childhood: a blue ribbon from a camp contest, a high school award for an essay, stacks of old report cards from grade school.
    â€œThose things go back to kindergarten,” her mother said.
    â€œDoes she look at them often?”
    â€œI doubt it. She just wanted a safe place to keep them.She has a strong