Father’s Day Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

happy bunch, all so friendly and smiling at her. She impulsively decided to accept the invitation.
    â€œSure thing,” she said quickly, as the doors started to close.

Chapter Four
    T hen the doors closed and she was left alone in the elevator, ascending smoothly to the tenth floor. Lucy followed the sign when she got off the elevator, proceeding down a short hall and turning a corner, where she immediately found her room. At least she didn’t have to walk all the way down the long hall, she thought, wondering if the elevators would be noisy at night. It took a few tries, but she finally got the key card to work and opened the door to her room. She closed it carefully behind her, fastening both the latch and the safety chain. She was a woman alone in the big city, and she wasn’t going to take any chances.
    Flicking on the light switch, she poked her head into the bathroom—white, tiny, and old-fashioned with a pedestal sink—and went straight to the window to open the drapes. Looking out, she was disappointed to see there was no view of the city, only four dreary brick walls punctuated with rows of windows. It was some sort of air shaft, she decided, that provided light and ventilation to the inside, less expensive rooms like hers.
    Even so, she decided as she studied the furnishings, it was much more luxurious than the master bedroom at home, even if it wasn’t much larger. The furniture all matched, for one thing. And the bed was covered with a puffy maroon comforter and the pillows encased in white Euro-style shams. It was much more sophisticated than the candlewick spread on the bed she shared with Bill. Bed stands with bulky square lamps flanked both sides of the bed, and a matching floor lamp stood in one corner, next to a rather stiff-looking armchair. A fourth lamp, with an enormous square shade, stood on a long, low bureau next to the TV. The shade was askew—the lamp had been shoved too close to the wall—and Lucy automatically straightened it. She hated cockeyed lampshades, and, come to think of it, she didn’t much like all the bits and pieces of cardboard that advised her she was indeed welcome at the Park Plaza Hotel and putting her on notice that this was a nonsmoking room and offering her several choices of room-service breakfasts. She gathered them all up and shoved them in a drawer. It was her room, after all, and she was going to be here for the better part of a week. She might as well have things the way she liked them.
    Warned in advance about the high cost of hotel telephones by Ted, she perched on the edge of her bed and pulled her cell phone out of her purse and called home. The call went through and she waited while it rang at least ten times, but nobody answered. They must all be out, she decided, but where? What could they possibly be doing on a Sunday evening? Sara and Zoe ought to getting ready for bed—tomorrow was a school day—and Elizabeth ought to be helping them. Bill usually watched a newsmagazine show on Sundays; he hated to miss it. And Toby…well, the less she thought about what Toby did with his time these days the better.
    Unless, she thought, he hadn’t gone out. Maybe he’d stayed home, provoking a fight with his father. She could see the headlines now: Deadly Domestic Dispute Rocks Village. Violence Erupts on Red Top Road. Neighbors Never Suspected Family Dysfunction.
    That last one needed work, she thought, regaining her senses. Bill had probably taken the younger girls out for ice cream. Or down to the town pier to see the seals. Elizabeth and Toby were probably out with friends. There was no need to panic, not yet anyway. She’d call first thing tomorrow. If nobody answered, then she’d panic.
    Next on her list was a call to Ted, informing him she had arrived. She made that call on the hotel phone, calling the desk and asking to be connected to his room.
    â€œYou got in all right?”
    His voice was so loud, it