Wall-To-Wall Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

said. “I’m Hilda Shaw.”
    There was an expectant pause. The compulsion to answer was irresistible—and was obeyed.
    “I’m Derek Ellis,” my fiancé answered. “This is Avery.”
    He reached behind him and pulled me forward. Misery loves company and all that. I wiggled my fingers. “Hi.”
    “A pleasure to meet you both,” Miss Shaw rasped. “I saw you here two weeks ago, too.” She fixed Derek with an unblinking stare out of dark eyes.
    “We were looking at the Antoninis’ condo,” Derek said.
    “Have they decided to rent it out?”
    I shook my head. “They’ve decided to stay in Florida full time. We just bought the place.”
    “Oh.” A shadow crossed Miss Shaw’s broad face. Then it cleared and she looked back at us. “Are you moving in?”
    “We’ll be renovating the place,” Derek said at the same time as I answered, “We’ve already got somewhere to live.”
    “Where do you live?” Hilda Shaw wanted to know.
    I hesitated, but couldn’t think of a reason not to tell her. Waterfield is a small town; half of us already know where the other half lives. And besides, Shannon and Kate had both said Miss Shaw never left the building; the chances that she’d suddenly show up at the door wanting to be let in were slim.
    “I inherited a house from my aunt last summer. It’s on Bayberry Lane in the Village. Derek lives on Main Street in downtown.” Because Waterfield is such a small place, especially the historic district and the downtown commercial area, we’re only four or five blocks apart. The condo complex was on the west side of town, a few miles from the historic district, near the new police station and about halfway between town and Barnham College.
    “So is this a place for you to share?” Miss Shaw wanted to know.
    Derek shook his head. “We’re just renovating it and putting it back on the market. And we may be making a bit of noise over the next few weeks. Sorry.”
    “So you’re not married?” She looked from one to the other of us.
    “Not yet,” Derek said.
    “Engaged?”
    He glanced at me and grinned. “Yes.”
    “For how long?”
    “A few weeks.” I gave her a bright smile as I took a step toward the stairs. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Shaw.”
    “You, too,” Hilda Shaw said. “So you’ll be starting your renovations soon?”
    “Tomorrow.” Derek looked trapped, like a deer in the headlights, too polite to cut and run.
    My mother did her best to instill politeness into me, but I am, after all, a New Yorker. We tend to be direct. “I’m sorry, Miss Shaw,” I said, grabbing Derek’s arm. “We really have to go. We have a lot to do before tomorrow morning.”
    “Of course.” Hilda Shaw sounded conciliatory, but the look in her eyes was avid, as if she really wanted us to stay longer so she could finish turning our brains inside out and shaking them to see if anything of value was left.
    “We’ll be back in the morning,” Derek said, unable to help himself. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes. “We’ll see you then.”
    Miss Shaw nodded and withdrew into her apartment. By the time we got downstairs and were getting into the Beetle, she was back behind the lace curtains again. I could see them flutter.
    “You were much too nice to her,” I chastised Derek after the car doors were closed and I was plugging the key in the ignition. “Now she’ll never leave us alone.”
    “She’s a lonely old lady,” Derek answered. “I feel sorry for her.”
    “She treated us like we were suspects in a crime.”
    “It wasn’t that bad,” Derek said, buckling his seat belt. When we’re working, we pretty consistently use Derek’s truck for everything—it’s a Ford F-150 with plenty of room in the back for all our supplies and tools, quite unlike the Beetle—and when we’re not working, I enjoy driving my zippy little car. It was a gift from my mother and her husband last Christmas, since I hadn’t had a car when I first arrived in