While My Pretty One Sleeps by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online

she told the delivery man.
    â€œIf you say so, Miss Kearny.” His pale face creased into an ingratiating smile.
    While she hurried through lunch, Neeve dialed Ethel’s number. Once again, Ethel did not answer. Throughout the afternoon the receptionist continued to try to reach her. At the end of the day Neeve told Betty, “I’II take this stuff home once more. I sure don’t want to waste my Sunday having to come back here because Ethel suddenly decides she’s got a plane to catch and needs everything in ten minutes.”
    â€œKnowing her, she’d have the plane make a special trip to the gate if she’d missed it,” Betty snapped.
    They both laughed, but then Betty said quietly, “You know those crazy feelings you get sometimes, Neeve. I swear they’re catching. Pain in the neck that Ethel is, she never pulled anythinglike this before.”
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    Saturday night, Neeve and Myles went to the Met to hear Pavarotti. “You should be out on a date,” Myles complained as the waiter at the Ginger Man handed them after-theater supper menus.
    Neeve glanced at him. “Look, Myles, I go out a lot. You know that. When someone important comes along, I’ll know it, just the way you and Mother did. Now why don’t you order me some shrimp scampi?”
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    Myles usually attended early Mass on Sunday. Neeve enjoyed sleeping late and going to the Pontifical Mass at the cathedral. She was surprised to find Myles in the kitchen in his bathrobe when she got up. “Giving up the faith?” she asked.
    â€œNo. I thought I’d go with you today.” He tried to sound casual.
    â€œWould that have anything to do with Nicky Sepetti’s release from prison?” Neeve sighed. “Don’t bother to answer.”
    After church they decided on brunch at Café des Artistes, then caught a movie in the neighborhood theater. When they got back to the apartment, Neeve again dialed Ethel Lambston’s number, let the phone ring a half-dozen times, shrugged and raced Myles in their weekly contest to finish the Times puzzle first.
    â€œA lovely, unraveling day,” Neeve commented as she bent over Myles’s chair to kiss the top of his head after the eleven-o’clock news. She caught the look on his face. “Don’t say it,”she warned.
    Myles pressed his lips together. He knew she was right. He’d been about to say, “Even if it’s clear tomorrow, I wish you wouldn’t jog alone.”
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    The persistent ringing of the phone in Ethel Lambston’s apartment did not go unnoticed.
    Douglas Brown, Ethel’s twenty-eight-year-old nephew, had moved into the apartment on Friday afternoon. He’d hesitated about taking the risk, but knew he could prove he’d been forced that day out of his illegal sublet.
    â€œI just needed a place to stay while I found a new apartment.” That would be his explanation.
    He figured it would be better not to answer the phone. The frequent calls irritated him, but he did not want to advertise his presence. Ethel never wanted him to answer her phone. “None of your business who calls me,” she’d told him. Other people might have been told the same thing.
    He was sure it had been a wise decision not to answer the doorbell on Friday evening. The note slipped under the door into the foyer was about the clothes Ethel had ordered.
    Doug smiled unpleasantly. That must have been the errand Ethel had scheduled for him.
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    Sunday morning Denny Adler waited impatiently in the sharp, gusty wind. Precisely at eleven o’clock, he saw a black Chevy approaching. With long strides, he hurried from the comparative shelter of Bryant Park onto the street. The car pulled over.He opened the passenger door and slid in. The car was moving even