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

don’t know much about real estate. Maybe the property value increased if you didn’t alter the original design, like with antiques.
    The door of the small stone cottage was painted red, and it, too, was locked. The windows had no drapes or blinds. The front room was empty and had a dark hardwood floor that looked dusty. I circled the little house, fighting my way through low-hanging tree branches behind the structure. Apart from the dust and a few spider webs, the place appeared to be empty. No one had bothered to clean this cottage in some time. Maybe it was too humble to serve as a guest house.
    My heart beat faster as I approached the main house. It was a 1950’s Cape Cod-style home, two stories, painted white, with terracotta roofing tiles. All the drapes were drawn and the sliding glass patio door was intact. If Jack was telling the truth, the owner had acted quickly to have the glass replaced.
    I approached the front door and rang the bell, waited for a response, and then tested the knob. It was locked, of course. I walked around the house checking windows, and finally ending up back at the patio door. Everything was locked up tight. I scanned the eaves looking for security cameras and didn’t see anything obvious, although I noticed an ADT decal on one of the windows, indicating there was some type of alarm system within. Jack must be very good at slipping past such things.
    I could only see bits and pieces of furniture through narrow cracks between the drapes. Because of what Jack had told me this place gave me the creeps, and I was feeling exposed. I decided that if I was going to break in to get a look at the videotapes, I would have to do it at night. It’s much easier to sneak around in the dark.
    Feeling slightly frustrated, I hiked back up the driveway. As I approached the 2002 I couldn’t see Jack at all, but when I got closer I realized that he was scrunched down in the passenger seat. He sat up as I climbed into the car.
    “Let’s get out of here,” he hissed.
    “Relax. There’s nobody home.”
    I started the car, made a U-turn, and drove up to Woodside Road.
    Jack was silent until we were back on the street. Then he said, “That was stupid. You have no idea what this woman is capable of. What if she had caught you on her property? You didn’t even take your gun, for Christ’s sake.”
    I looked down at my purse, then up at Jack. “How did you know I had a gun?”
    “I saw you put it in your purse at the office.”
    “No you didn’t. I held it below your line of sight. You couldn’t have seen it.”
    “Okay, maybe I didn’t see it, but I smelled the gun oil and you made a point of holding your purse below the top of the desk, so I assumed you were transferring a gun from one of the drawers to your bag.” He picked up my purse and pulled the Glock out of the holster compartment. “And look,” he said. “I was right.”
    “Put that down!”
    I waited until he’d replaced the gun in my purse and then rested my hand on top of the bag. I get edgy when people I don’t know are handling loaded firearms in my presence. I’m even tense at the firing range, looking over my shoulder and checking out the other shooters when we go out to change our targets.
    “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jack. I just wanted to take a quick look around. Does Margaret own all three houses?”
    “Yes. She owns all the property from the street to the crest of the hill.”
    “Why do you suppose she keeps that little white cottage clean and furnished?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “I’d like to meet this woman, and I need to see those videotapes. Maybe she’ll invite me over for cocktails.”
    “That’s not funny,” he said. “You don’t want to be alone with her. Trust me. I’ve seen the videos.”
    “You only looked at two of them, right?”
    “So?”
    “So aren’t you curious about the other three?”
    “Yes, but I’m not crazy.”
    “I was thinking maybe I’d ask her to show me