Take Stock in Murder by Millie Mack Read Free Book Online

litter box. She would have to remember on their way back from the city to pick up some proper supplies for their new addition. She decided to takeCharles’s sports utility vehicle and pulled up to the front door. When Charles came out of the house, he exchanged places with Carrie in the driver’s seat.
    “OK, all set,” he said.
    Charles headed right for the Tri-County Pike, a four-lane expressway, which took Nottingham commuters straight into the heart of Tri-City. Tri-County had grown from an agricultural community in early 1900’s where goods were shared and traded among the three nearby counties of Allwin, Dorchester, and St. Thomas, into a city supporting the workforce for the entire area.
    Thirty minutes later, Charles pulled into the garage at his office building, which caused Carrie to ask, “Why are we at your office? Do you need to pick something up?”
    “No, we’re going to park here.”
    “But, Charles, we must be twenty blocks from Todd’s apartment.”
    “We’re going to use public transportation. This way, should the police check our movements, we were at my office. And should the police show up at Todd’s apartment, our car won’t be parked out front.”
    “Clever, Holmes,” she said.
    “Thank you, Watson.”
    They went through the lobby of Charles’s office building and out onto the side street, then walked the half block to the entrance of the Tri-City Metro. Within a few minutes, the train dropped them to within a block of Todd’s apartment. They walked past the building on the opposite side of the street.
    “It looks quiet. No sign of the cops. How are we going to bust into the joint?” Carrie asked.
    “It may be easier than you think. The reason I couldn’t remember Todd’s address is that these condos are newly renovated. Todd just moved in,” Charles said.
    “Interesting. This building isn’t in a cheap part of the city. Todd must be doing very well at the office.”
    “I made a phone call to the real-estate agent and discovered they’re still selling units. She’s expecting to show us a condo”— he looked at his watch—“just about now.” With that, he took Carrie’s arm and guided her across the street.
    The real-estate agent’s name was Mrs. Breckenridge. She was a woman in her midfifties who gave the impression of having spent her entire life selling real estate. She was immaculately dressed, with hair that had been recently coifed at a city salon. Her polished nails helped to highlight the expensive pen she was writing with when they arrived.
    She beamed with enthusiasm as she rose with her hand extended toward Charles. “I’m so glad you and Mrs. Eckenrode came at this time. Later in the afternoon, I get very busy and can’t spend as much time with each prospective buyer as I’d like. Now let me show you the wonderful features of these condos.”
    As Mrs. Breckenridge walked down the hallway ahead of them, Carrie whispered through her teeth, “Mrs. Eckenrode?”
    Charles shrugged and said, “It’s the name of my sixth-grade teacher.”
    Mrs. Breckenridge proceeded to guide Carrie and Charles throughout each and every room in the model. She talked colors, carpets, and concepts. Several times Carrie looked atCharles, waiting for him to make a move to break away from this very professional sales agent. But he seemed to be enjoying every feature she outlined and took the time to ask questions or add comments to her sales pitch.
    “The rooms are laid out very practically and yet maintain the charm of the architecture of the thirties,” Charles said as they returned to the living room and the sales desk.
    “Oh, Mr. Eckenrode, you do have an eye for design. Those were the exact specifications we gave our designer: ‘Add the modern features today’s buyers want, but maintain the charm.’”
    “Well done, Mrs. Breckenridge, well done. I also like the height of these rooms. Being tall, I like a ceiling that gives me some breathing room.”
    “These tall