To the Grave Read Online Free PDF Page A

seventeen-forties?” Marissa asked sarcastically as she emerged from the car.
    â€œRight after World War Two, smart-ass, although it looks as if it’s stood here abandoned for at least a century.” Catherine looked at the desolate cottage and surrounding grounds. “James’s mother wants to sell the property—three acres of land that could be beautiful with proper care. James’s father was an only child and inherited everything, so ownership isn’t a problem.”
    â€œWhat is the problem?”
    â€œProbably Peter’s guilt about selling family land to strangers. Selling the land to James would keep it in the family, though.”
    â€œIs James interested in buying it?”
    â€œHis mother usually brings up the topic of selling. James doesn’t say anything.”
    â€œThen what makes you think he wants to buy the land?”
    â€œIt’s only an idea.”
    â€œI see,” Marissa said knowingly. “ You think James could buy the land as a site for a new house.”
    â€œAs I said, it’s only an idea,” Catherine evaded. “Today I just wanted to show you the land and get your thoughts about how well it would suit a nice house for James. You know how he hates living in a town house.”
    â€œWhy, no, I didn’t know,” Marissa drawled. “He hasn’t discussed the matter with me.”
    â€œWell, he does,” Catherine maintained, ignoring Marissa’s grin. “He sold his house after Renée left. I’m sure he wants another one.”
    â€œBut he doesn’t know you’re looking at this place as a potential site for his new home,” Marissa said as Catherine smiled serenely. “Okay, let explore.” Marissa looked at the cottage. “Can we go inside?”
    â€œNo. I don’t have the key, but we can look through the windows.”
    The boards of the long, uneven porch creaked as the women walked across it to the large front window with curtains parted less than a foot. They made tunnels of their hands and looked into a dim room lit only by sunlight coming through a back window to show a sagging couch, an oval coffee table, a hooked rug, and one lamp topped by a crooked shade.
    Marissa made a face. “Obviously the cottage wasn’t decorated to impress anyone.”
    â€œThey probably kept things simple so they didn’t have to worry about anyone breaking in to steal nice furnishings. It’s better than I’d have expected from looking at the outside. I think someone cleans a couple of times a year and the Eastmans maintain the utilities—water, electricity, and gas for a furnace so they can keep the place warm enough in the winter that the pipes don’t burst.”
    Catherine gazed around a large, raggedy flower bed filled with bright sunflowers, purple wild asters, and goldenrod. Several yards beyond the flower bed stretched a line of oak and maple trees shedding their brilliant, late October leaves. When she took a deep breath, she picked up the bitingly sweet scent of apples. James once told her his grandmother had planted a small grouping of apple trees, which she’d called her orchard.
    â€œForget the cottage,” Catherine said. “Look at this three-acre lot. It could be beautiful with a little tender loving care.” She grinned. “Let’s go look at the river!”
    The grass stood tall, some weeds as high as their knees. As they walked around the cottage, Catherine was glad she’d suggested they wear jeans and sneakers with socks. Behind the building, untrimmed trees had blocked most of the sun and the grass grew in patches. She and Marissa linked arms and began down the gentle slope to the river and the old dock.
    â€œHow far would you say it is between the house and the river?” Marissa asked.
    â€œI’m not good with distances.” Catherine frowned in thought. “Maybe eighty yards before it drops onto that steep