Trick or Treat Murder Read Online Free PDF

attractive. Her skin was nourished and revitalized, her hair was highlighted and carefully coiffed, and she was a living testament to the benefits of regular exercise.

    At the time, Lucy was struggling through the first months of her pregnancy with Toby, and she felt bloated and nauseous. Lucy was pretty sure that if Monica had given Bill the least encouragement, he would have hopped into bed with her.

    But she never had. She'd become a friend to both of them. She'd become Bill's eager student, listening carefully as he explained the old construction methods. She insisted that he do what he thought best for the house and refused to cut corners to save money. As a result, the house had been one of Bill's most satisfying projects, and he was justifiably proud of the work he did there.

    She took Lucy along to country auctions, and together they learned how to tell the treasures from the trash. When Lucy fell in love with a golden oak high chair, but was quickly outbid by a dealer, Monica noted the buyer's identity. She bought the chair from him, and surprised Lucy with it as a baby gift.

    That was the sort of person she was. She quickly became involved in people's lives, and showered them with affection. Always quick to smile and laugh, revealing those pearly white teeth.

    Did they use her teeth to identify her? Lucy wondered, with a stab of pain. Had Monica been quietly overcome by smoke in her sleep, or had she woken in a panic realizing the house was on fire? Had she found the doorway blocked by flames, and struggled to open a window? What were her last moments like? Had she been afraid? Had she suffered?

    Lucy couldn't bear to think about it. She wanted to remember Monica as she'd been. A beautiful woman who loved life.

    How was she going to tell Bill? How could she soften the impact? Bill wasn't the sort of man who expressed his deepest emotions openly, but Lucy knew he'd taken the fire very hard. He hadn't said much, but she knew he was simmering with anger. As she pulled the Subaru up next to Bill's truck and braked, Lucy felt heavy with the weight of the terrible news she had to deliver.

CHAPTER FIVE

    Moving automatically, Lucy opened the car door and got out.She pulled open the rear door and reached in to loosen the straps that held the baby seat. Bracing herself, she awkwardly lifted the cumbersome plastic shell that held the baby. Then she climbed the makeshift steps and entered the spacious hall of the Hathorn-Pye house. The house had recently been purchased by the Maine Museum of Fine Arts, and Bill had been hired to restore it.

    "Bill?" she called.

    "I'm in here," he answered. Lucy followed his voice and found him bent over a window frame in one of the front rooms.

    "This is a nice surprise," he said, looking up.

    "Zoe was restless," improvised Lucy, trying to ease her way into breaking the news, "so I took her for a drive." She set down the heavy baby seat, and tucked a shawl around the sleeping baby.

    "I thought you'd be back in bed."

    "I wish I was," she confessed, crossing the room to stand beside him. "Sue called and the phone woke the baby. Wotcha doin'?"

    "Taking a paint sample, so I can figure out the original color."

    "This is a lovely house," observed Lucy, looking around. "I love the proportions."

    "It's a classic Georgian," said Bill. "The museum was smart to buy it. They got it for a song. It's a fine house, Captain Hathorn spared no expense when he built it. It was his statement to the world that he had arrived." Bill began carefully dismantling the window frame.

    "I love the big front hall, and those stairs."

    "That hallway told visitors the captain had money to waste on space that wasn't needed for cooking or sleeping."

    "I wonder what the captain's wife was like," mused Lucy.

    "Which oner asked Bill, carefully prying off a piece of window casing. "The first three all died in childbirth, not one lived past twenty-five. The fourth was a rich old widow who already had six