On the Street Where you Live Read Online Free PDF Page B

the conclusion that it’s Martha Lawrence.”
    When the door opened, both men had their identification badges in hand. “I’m Emily Graham. Please come in,” she said.
    She had expected the visit to be little more than a formality. “I understand that you only closed on the house this morning, Ms. Graham,” Osborne began.
    She was familiar with government officials like Elliot Osborne. Impeccably dressed, courteous, smart, they were also good public relations people who left the nitty-gritty to their underlings. She knew that he and Detective Duggan would be comparing notes and impressions later on.
    She also knew that behind his appropriately serious demeanor, Detective Duggan was studying her with appraising eyes.
    They were standing in the foyer, where the only piece of furniture was a quaint Victorian love seat. When she had seen the house that first day and saidshe wanted to buy it, adding that she would be interested in purchasing some of the furnishings as well, Theresa Kiernan, the former owner, had pointed to the love seat with a faint smile. “I love this piece, but trust me, it’s purely for atmosphere. It’s so low that it defies the force of gravity to get up from it.”
    Emily invited Osborne and Detective Duggan into the living room. I was planning to move the couches this afternoon, she thought as they followed her through the archway. I wanted to have them face each other at the fireplace. She tried to fight back a growing sense of unreality.
    Duggan had quietly taken out a notebook.
    â€œWe’d just like to ask you a few simple questions, Ms. Graham,” Osborne said sympathetically. “How long have you been coming to Spring Lake?”
    To her own ears, her story of driving down for the first time three months ago and immediately buying the house sounded almost ludicrous.
    â€œYou’d never been here before and bought a house like this on impulse?” There was a distinct tone of incredulity in Osborne’s voice.
    Emily could see that the expression in Duggan’s eyes was speculative. She chose her words carefully. “I came to Spring Lake on an impulse because all my life I’ve been curious about it. My family built this house in 1875. They owned it until 1892, selling it after the older daughter, Madeline, disappeared in 1891. In looking up the town records to see where the house was, I found it was for sale. I saw it, loved it, and bought it. More than that I can’t tell you.”
    She did not understand the startled expression onboth their faces. “I didn’t even realize this was the Shapley house,” Osborne said. “We’re expecting that the remains will be those of a young woman who disappeared over four years ago while visiting her grandparents in Spring Lake.” With a brief shake of his hand, he signaled to Duggan that now was not the right time to mention the second set of remains.
    Emily felt the color drain from her face. “A young woman disappeared over four years ago and is buried here?” she whispered. “Dear God, how can that be?”
    â€œIt’s a very sad day for this community.” Osborne got up. “I’m afraid we’ll have to keep the scene under protection until they have finished processing it. As soon as it is, you’ll be able to have your contractor resume digging for your pool.”
    There isn’t going to be a pool, Emily thought.
    â€œThere’s bound to be a lot of media people around. We’ll keep them from bothering you as best we can,” Osborne said. “We may want to talk to you further.”
    As they walked to the door, the bell pealed insistently.
    The moving van from Albany had arrived.

six ________________
    F OR THE RESIDENTS of Spring Lake, the day had begun in its usual, orderly fashion. Most of the commuters had gathered at the train station for the hour-and-a-half ride to their jobs in New York City. Others had