Organized for Murder by Ritter Ames Read Free Book Online Page B

option, but what could she use as a cover story? A condolence call? Given the circumstances, wouldn't it be more appropriate for Kate to make her condolences at the funeral home?
    Well, forget social convention, I need to know now.
    She pulled off her hoodie and detoured into the bedroom. Her peach-colored, light wool suit was perfect for a Vermont spring day; pastel for the season, but warmer than it looked. A quick trip by Hazelton Flowers, and Kate was soon wending her way up and around the mountainous country lane. Dazzling sunlight played peek-a-boo behind the dense tree line, and no neighbors' homes were visible as the van moved in and out of the wooded switchbacks toward the Nethercutt gates. Kate frowned as she realized how isolated the mansion was, hidden from outsiders by its surrounding stone walls and forests of near fully-leafed hardwoods and evergreen pines. She knew other people lived on this mountain, along the fringes of the Nethercutt property, but neighbors obviously guarded their privacy as much as Amelia and Daniel had.
    Kate set the hand brake and rolled her shoulders to relieve her stress, once more wishing she'd gotten something close to a full night's sleep. She stepped from the vehicle, potted gladioli in hand and words of sympathy running through her head. But she lost her train of thought when a man in a gray suit raced through the side yard and disappeared around the back of the mansion.
    Who was that, and why was he running? Had something else happened?
    She shoved the plant back onto the floorboard, and tore off in pursuit as fast as her beige pumps allowed. Rounding the corner of the house she almost collided with Gray Suit. A bit above six-foot, the middle-aged man stood arguing with Danny in front of a Deco-inspired greenhouse.
    "Don't disappear while I'm talking to you, young man," Gray Suit ordered. He and the teen traded laser-fueled looks.
    Danny's face flushed at Kate's sudden appearance. His arms were crossed tightly enough to meld together, but he wiggled a thumb in her direction. "Um, Dad, we have company."
    The man whirled, his surprise at seeing her was replaced a split-second later by a calm that bespoke years of practice.
    Danny made the introductions. "This is the lady Gramma hired to organize the place. Name's Kate something. I forget." He jerked his head in Gray Suit's direction and addressed Kate. "My father, William Nethercutt."
    Extending a manicured hand, Danny's father said, "Nice to meet you. Kate McKenzie, right? Mother spoke about hiring you. Call me Bill."
    Kate shook his hand. "Hello…Bill, I apologize for the intrusion. I just wanted to come by and say how sorry I am about Amelia. I have a plant…" She waved toward the front. "In my van."
    Bill smiled, but Kate didn't like the look in his eyes. Not cold, exactly, but definitely calculating. His voice, on the other hand, could only be described as too-immediately-friendly. "Very nice of you. I'll walk you around. We have cake and coffee inside. The neighbors have been…" Then turning to Danny, he finished instead with, "Come along, son. We'll continue our discussion later."
    They split up at the walk. Bill went to unlock the front door, and Danny followed Kate.
    "I appreciate the help, but I really can manage." She opened the sliding door.
    "No problem." The teen hefted the pot and grinned. "I've always been taught a Nethercutt man helps lovely ladies whenever he can."
    Ooh, a player today. Kate returned the smile. "Well, I do appreciate it. So, did your uncle give the MG a clean bill of health?"
    His expression fell. "Dad said, uh, I gotta wait for a while."
    "Oh, I am sorry. Is it because of your grandmother's death?"
    Relief flashed across the young man's face. "Yes. Yes, but things'll work out soon."
    "I'm sure they will." Kate placed a hand on his arm.
    His response was anything but grieving, and Kate figured he'd better forget any hope at a career in poker playing. Danny was clearly not mourning the loss of