Someone to Love by Jude Deveraux Read Free Book Online Page B

ask?”
    “Yes,” the agent said tiredly. “I’ll call.”
    Jace thanked him, then hung up and dressed to go out. On his way out he stopped by the kitchen and asked Mrs. Browne if anyone had stayed in the house while it was empty. As he knew she would, she took offense and told him that no one had stayed there. He left in the middle of her lecture and went in search of his car. Outside, hidden behind a turn of the house, was a three-car garage, which he’d somehow missed seeing before.
    It took him a while to find his keys in a little box hung on the wall. When he opened his car he saw that dirt had been vacuumed off the floormat and on the passenger seat was a file folder. Inside was a neatly typed piece of paper listing supplies and computer and other equipment needed to set up an office. Jace smiled when he saw that the items came from four different sources. “I tried to get the best prices,” Gladys had written at the bottom. “I could buy it all on Monday and start work on Tuesday at two. I have classes until one.”
    Jace had to walk around to the other side of the car to get into the driver’s side. It was going to take him a while to adjust to the steering wheel being on the opposite side of what he was used to.
    He backed out of the garage, looked for the device to close the door but couldn’t find it. Out of nowhere, Mick appeared and pulled the door down. Jace put the window down, stuck his head out, and said, “Tell Gladys yes. Tuesday will be fine.” Mick smiled and waved thanks.
    On the road into Margate village, Jace’s cell phone—or mobile as it was called in England—rang. Nigel said that the owner had said emphatically that he’d never lent the house to anyone. “Thank you,” Jace said and hung up.
    Either someone was lying or Stacy and whomever she’d met had broken into the house. Or had they? Jace had no proof she’d kept her meeting. Maybe she’d gone to the house, waited for the person, but he didn’t show up. Maybe in despair she’d taken her own life.
    “But if she loved him so much, why was she marrying me?” he said out loud, then swerved to miss an oncoming car. Out of habit, he’d moved to the right side of the road.
    Jace pulled his Range Rover to the side, stopped, and put his head on the steering wheel. Short of taking Stacy’s photo into the village and asking questions, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He’d read the reports on her death. No one had visited her at the pub that night. She’d arrived late, the owner’s wife said she’d given Stacy a key, and that she’d nearly fallen on her way up the stairs. The woman also said Stacy looked as though she’d been crying. The owner had asked if she could help. “No, I’m fine,” Stacy said. “I just need a good, long sleep.”
    When Jace had driven to the house before, he’d turned into Priory House before reaching the village, so he’d not seen it. Now he saw that it was quaint and cute, but then most English villages were. All the grocery shops were divided, so there was a butcher shop, a bakery, a fruitier, a greengrocer, and a wine shop. At one end of the main street, named High Street as it was in most villages, was a pub and another one stood at the other end of the street.
    Which pub was it? Jace wondered. His copy of the police report was hidden in the back of his photo of Stacy and he hadn’t thought to bring it. Maybe he could visit the place where Stacy had…died—he could hardly even think the word—and find out…Find out what, he didn’t know.
    When he passed a small brick building that said Margate Historical Library, Jace had an idea.
    He parked his car on the street and walked toward the library. Everyone he passed stared at him, then nodded. He had no doubt that they knew he was the latest owner of Priory House. He could almost hear their wanting to ask if he’d seen the ghost yet. He thought he’d answer, “Yes, but she got scared of me and vanished.”
    When he got to the