No Place Like Home by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d quickly become a star.
    The result was that four years ago, when the prosecutor he’d worked for retired, Jeff was immediately appointed by the governor to take his place.
    On both sides of the courthouse he was known as a straight arrow, tough on crime, but with the ability to understand that many offenders, with the right combination of supervision and punishment, could be rehabilitated.
    Jeff had his next goal in mind—to run for governor after the incumbent’s second term ended. In the meantime, he intended to exercise his authority as prosecutor to make sure that Morris County was a safe place to live.
    That was why the repeated vandalisms of property at the Barton home infuriated and challenged him.
    â€œThose kids, privileged as they are, have nothing better to do than to rake up that old tragedyand turn that beautiful home into the local haunted house,” Jeff fumed to Anna Malloy, his secretary, when the incident was reported to him. “Every Halloween they tell wild stories about seeing a ghost looking out at them from the upstairs window. And last year they left a big doll on the porch, holding a toy gun.”
    â€œI wouldn’t want to live in that house,” Anna said matter-of-factly. “I believe that places have vibes. Maybe the kids do see ghosts.”
    The remark made Jeff think, not for the first time, that Anna had a way of sometimes setting his teeth on edge. This was one of those times. Then he was quick to remind himself that she was probably the most hardworking and efficient secretary in the courthouse. Nearly sixty years old, and happily married to a clerk of the court, she never wasted a minute with personal phone calls, as most of the younger secretaries were guilty of doing.
    â€œPut me through to police headquarters in Mendham,” he said, not adding “please,” which was unusual for him, but signaled to her that he was annoyed.
    Sergeant Earley, whom Jeff knew well, brought him up to date. “I answered the phone call from the real estate agent. A couple named Nolan bought the house.”
    â€œHow did they react when they saw what had happened?”
    â€œHe was furious. She was really upset, actually fainted.”
    â€œHow old are they?”
    â€œHe’s mid to late thirties. She is probably about thirty. Classy. You know what I mean. They have a four-year-old boy who found a pony waiting for him in the barn. Get this. The boy was able to read the writing on the lawn and wants to name the pony Lizzie.”
    â€œI’m sure that went over big with the mother.”
    â€œShe seemed okay with it.”
    â€œI understand that this time whoever did it wasn’t satisfied with wrecking the lawn.”
    â€œThis goes beyond anything that’s ever been pulled before. I went straight over to the school to talk to the kids who pulled the Halloween trick last year. Michael Buckley was the ringleader. He’s twelve and a smart aleck. He swears he had nothing to do with it, but then had the nerve to say that he thinks it was only fair for somebody to warn the new owners that they bought a creepy house.”
    â€œDo you believe he wasn’t involved?”
    â€œHis father backs him up, says they were both home last night.” Earley hesitated. “Jeff, I believe Mike, not because he isn’t capable of pulling the wool over his father’s eyes and sneaking out in the middle of the night, but because this just wasn’t a kid’s trick.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œThis time they used real paint, not that stuff that washes off. This time they did a job on the front of the house, and from the height of the carving it’s clear that someone a lot taller thanMichael did it. Something else—the skull and crossbones on the door were done by someone who is artistic. When I looked up close, I could see that it had initials in the eye sockets. L and B. For Lizzie Borden, I