Dead By Midnight Read Online Free PDF

you heard about Tagg Chambless’s wife’s murder over in Memphis?” Ward Dandridge asked, apparently interested in little else. “I had just cornered Derek to get his opinion about her unsolved murder.”
    Cam’s mouth tilted in a smirking grin and it was obvious that he had barely managed not to laugh.
    â€œWe’ll talk later,” Derek said as he pulled away from the group. “I want to check with Mother and make sure she received her present yesterday.” He glanced from Dandridge to Cam. “Why don’t you tell Cam about the case? After all, he’s famous for defending accused murderers.” Derek kissed Alexa on the cheek and whispered, “Behave yourself, cousin.”
    Several minutes later, he found his mother surrounded by her country club girlfriends, women in her age group whose husbands’ wealth afforded them a lifestyle only dreamed about by most.
    Happy Lawrence Vickers Adams—married three times, widowed once and divorced twice—was still an attractive woman, thanks to great genes and a talented cosmetic surgeon. Tall, slender, elegant. No one would ever guess that Happy wasn’t “to the manor born.”
    Their gazes met as he approached her and she quickly plastered a fake smile on her unwrinkled face. Derek couldn’t remember the last time his mother had been genuinely glad to see him. When he reached her, she leaned close, offering him her cheek to kiss. He did as he was expected to do.
    â€œHappy birthday, Mother.”
    â€œThank you, dear. And thank you for the lovely jade bracelet. I’m sure I will enjoy wearing it occasionally.”
    With the necessary pleasantries out of the way, Happy turned her full attention back to her friends. Derek walked away, went through the kitchen and out the back door without searching for his sister to say hello or good-bye. He motioned for the valet to bring around his car, and within five minutes, he sped off down the long, winding drive and out onto the highway.
    If he was lucky, he shouldn’t have to make a command appearance again until Happy’s seventieth birthday.
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    Lorie answered, as truthfully as she could, all of Maleah’s questions about her past and present boyfriends and other relationships.
    â€œI honestly can’t think of anyone who would want to kill me,” Lorie said, feeling more frustrated by the minute. “It just doesn’t make any sense. I live as low-key a life as possible. I haven’t had a date in months. I do my level best not to piss off anybody here in Dunmore. I just want to live my life without any major complications.”
    â€œA death threat is a major complication.” Maleah shifted on the sofa, turning halfway to directly face Lorie. “You haven’t noticed anyone following you or skulking around your house or your antique shop?”
    â€œNo. Not really. I mean, men sometimes look at me and I know they’re mentally undressing me. Occasionally someone makes a crude comment. And at odd times, I feel like somebody’s watching me, but I’ve never actually seen anyone, so I assumed it was just my imagination.”
    â€œMaybe. Maybe not,” Maleah said. “Have you recently received any peculiar phone calls?”
    â€œAre you talking about heavy breathing? Then no. And no one has called to talk dirty to me since the first year I moved back to Dunmore.”
    â€œWhat about online—any weird e-mails?”
    â€œNope. And I don’t have a blog or anything like that. Just a Web site for Treasures. And I don’t Twitter.”
    Maleah shook her head, the action inadvertently bouncing her long, blond ponytail. Today, with no makeup on and wearing jeans and an oversized cotton sweater, she looked more like a fresh-faced teenager than an experienced bodyguard and investigator.
    â€œI wish you had kept that first letter,” Maleah said. “We have no proof you actually received