Moonlight Becomes You by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

awkward to refuse, and besides, it would be a good time to learn exactly when Maggie Holloway planned to leave. Go away, Maggie, he thought. You’ll only get in trouble here.
    *   *   *
    An hour later, as the guests mingled and chatted, drinks and sandwiches in their hands, he was stunned to hear Irma Woods tell Maggie that the cleaning service had completed straightening the house and removing the mess created by the police when they had dusted for fingerprints.
    â€œSo the house is ready for you, Maggie,” Mrs. Woodstold her. “But are you sure you won’t be nervous there? You know you’re welcome to continue staying here.”
    Trying to seem casual, he moved closer, straining to hear. His back was turned toward them as Maggie said, “No, I won’t be nervous in Nuala’s home. I’d intended to stay two weeks, and so I shall. I’ll use the time to sort out everything, and, of course, to visit Greta Shipley at Latham Manor as Nuala requested.”
    He stiffened as she added, “Mrs. Woods, you’ve been so kind. I can’t thank you enough. There’s just one thing. When Nuala came to see you Friday morning with that handwritten will, didn’t you question her? I mean, weren’t you surprised that she was so anxious to have it witnessed and notarized, so intent on having it done at once?”
    It seemed to him that an eternity passed before Mrs. Woods answered, her response measured. “Well, yes, I did wonder. At first I just thought it was impulsive. Nuala had been very lonely since Tim died and was absolutely ecstatic that she’d found you. But since her death, I’ve been thinking that there was more to it than that. It was almost as if Nuala knew something terrible might happen to her.”
    He drifted toward the fireplace, joining a group gathered there. He responded to their remarks, but his mind was racing. Maggie would be visiting Greta Shipley. How much did Greta know? How much did she suspect? Something had to be done. It could not be risked.
    Greta. Obviously she was not well. Everyone had seen her helped out of church today. Everyone would believe that the shock of her friend’s death had contributed to a fatal heart attack. Unexpected, of course, but not really a surprise.
    Sorry, Greta, he thought.

13
    W HEN SHE WAS STILL A RELATIVELY YOUNG AGE SIXTY-EIGHT , Greta Shipley had been invited to a reception at the newly renovated Latham House, just rechristened the Latham Manor Residence. The new home for retirees was open and was accepting applications.
    She liked everything she saw there. The house’s magnificent first floor included the grand salon and marble and crystal dining room, where the enormous banquet table she remembered from her youth had been replaced by smaller tables. The handsome library, with its deep leather chairs and cheerful fireplace, was inviting, and the smaller salon, which would serve as a television room, suggested shared evenings of companionable viewing.
    Greta also approved of the regulations: The social hour would begin at 5:00 P.M . in the grand salon, followed by dinner at six. She was pleased that guests would be required to dress for the evening, as though they were dining in a country club. Greta had been raised by a stern grandmother who could wither with a glance the luckless individual garbed in inappropriate attire. Any residents not up to dressing appropriately would be served in their own quarters.
    There also was a section set aside for long-term nursing care, should that be required.
    The admission fee was steep, of course. It began at two hundred thousand dollars for a large private room and bath, and climbed to five hundred thousand for a two-bedroomsuite, of which there were four in the mansion. And while the resident got full and exclusive use of the apartment during his or her lifetime, at the time of death, ownership reverted to the residence, which would make the