Murder Over Cocktails: The 2nd Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

over,” he said, patting a shiny new pager clipped to his belt. “Here’s the number.” He handed me a slip of paper. “I’ll be sure to keep it with me at all times.”
    “Thanks,” I said, and tucked the number in my pocket. I don’t think I’d seen a pager in ten years, though I knew they were still in use. The fact that he’d gone to the trouble to get one underscored his obsession with privacy. He’d probably used a false name when he rented it, but I’d check anyway.
    I unlocked the drawer in which I keep some of my guns and transferred my little Glock twenty-six to my purse holster below the top of the desk, so Jack couldn’t see what I was doing. I own four handguns, but the Glock is very light, so it’s easy to carry.
    “Let’s go,” I said. “My car or yours?”
    “Yours.”
    I drive a 1972 British racing green BMW model 2002. It may be old, but it’s a classic and I love it. I’ve had it nine years. The man I bought it from had it completely restored when he bought it 12 years before, and only gave it up because of his deteriorating health. It was like buying a new car. I wash it weekly, wax it every three months, and take it to Bimmers in San Carlos for regular maintenance and pampering.
    We drove up into the Woodside Hills, just as I had the day before, and Jack pointed to a driveway just beyond, and across the street from, Woodside High School. The unpaved road sloped sharply downward, so that most of the estate was in a little valley, hidden from the street by trees and by the incline. Jack asked me to pull over before we’d gone twenty yards down the drive.
    The first of three houses on the property sat off to our left on a sunny knoll. Perhaps originally built for the groundskeeper and his family, it was a sweet little one-story whitewashed cottage. The front door faced the main house, which was about a hundred yards farther down the hill. At the end of the drive, just the other side of the main house, I could see a smaller cottage, made of stone.
    “Are all three houses occupied?” I asked.
    “No,” Jack said. “Only the large one.”
    I wondered why the original owners had never had the road paved. I could guess why the current owner hadn’t. She liked her privacy.
    “Why don’t we take a look around? If she’s home we can say we’re having car trouble and ask to use the phone.”
    Jack grabbed my wrist to stop me from getting out of the car.
    “This woman is a killer, Nicoli, and her house has just been burglarized. She’s not about to let a couple of total strangers in to use her telephone.”
    “So we’ll ask where the nearest pay phone is. What’s the problem?”
    “The problem is that she’ll know what we look like.”
    He had a point. If I was going to conduct any kind of surveillance on the subject, it would be better if she didn’t recognize me.
    “It’s Tuesday morning,” I said. “She’s probably not even home. Come on, Jack, where’s your sense of adventure?”
    “It’s too dangerous.”
    He wasn’t going to budge, but my natural curiosity wouldn’t let me leave without at least a quick look around.
    “Okay. You wait here. I’ll be right back.”
    I slipped out of the car before he could stop me, and headed for the whitewashed cottage. The front door was locked. I quickly circled the small building, looking in the windows. It was elegantly furnished, but didn’t look lived in, although someone was evidently taking care of it. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have a cleaning staff who came in once a week to keep the guest house tidy, just in case company arrived unexpectedly.
    I strolled down the long driveway past the main house, noting that no car was in evidence. There was no garage, so the fact that the driveway was unoccupied increased the likelihood that no one was home. It didn’t make sense to me that a house in this neighborhood wouldn’t have a garage or at least an overhang where you could park if it was raining, but I