Address to Die For Read Online Free

weren’t.
    The sound of emergency sirens ended our discussion. Max grabbed Belle’s collar while I found her leash and snapped it on. She was usually good with strangers, but we were cautious. In a situation like this one, where a dog’s family was tense and in an unfamiliar location, it was hard to know how any dog might react.
    In less than a minute our weedy drive and overgrown lawn were covered with dozens of emergency vehicles. What on earth had Max told them to bring out this enormous response? Our quiet yard looked like a scene out of Homeland or 24 . I half expected Jack Bauer to leap from an SUV, talking to the president on his cell phone.
    Doors slammed and trunk lids thudded as members of the various emergency teams called greetings and instructions to one another. They moved in a practiced, choreographed dance and I admired their organized attack as they converged on the house carrying toolboxes, aluminum suitcases, and other equipment that looked industrial, scientific, and more than a little creepy.
    I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d stumbled into someone else’s nightmare. I wanted to start the day over from the beginning. I knew it was important to plan for disasters and expect the unexpected when you were moving, but . . . a dead body? Who plans for that?
    A man Max’s age separated from the crowd and approached us.
    â€œDetective Jason Mueller, Orchard View Police,” said the man in an authoritative bass voice, showing us his badge. “Mr. McDonald?”
    â€œThanks for coming.” Max shook the detective’s hand and introduced the rest of us. I shook his hand too, but I was growing impatient. I needed the crime-scene circus to do its job. I wanted them to remove the body so we could get on with our job—settling into our new home and town.
    And then I panicked. On TV, when someone dies everything gets blocked off with police tape. Would we be able to stay? If not, where would we go? Before we’d moved, I’d tried to find a local hotel to use as a home base during the first few days of our move. I’d looked for one that would permit us to take Belle, Holmes, and Watson, but the closest one was on the far side of the San Francisco Bay. None of the pricey Silicon Valley hotels wanted to risk three animals and twelve muddy paws on their 500-thread-count sheets.
    â€œNice to meet you,” said the detective. “We’ll be out of your hair as quickly as possible.”
    â€œIs this necessary?” I asked, lifting my chin toward the swarm of vehicles, which had been joined by a Subaru with a neon-yellow kayak attached to the roof rack. “Max said the man fell.”
    â€œWe investigate every unexpected death,” the detective said. He nodded to two jumpsuit-clad workers lugging a generator. “It’s going to get noisy around here. Do you have somewhere else that you can go?”
    â€œWe’re moving in,” Max said. “Arrived an hour ago.”
    â€œThe moving van’s coming first thing in the morning,” I added. “We’ve got a ton of work to do . . .”
    Detective Mueller nodded and asked, “Where’s the body? In the basement?” He gestured to the team with the generator and then pointed toward the basement door. A gangly young man wearing a bright blue neoprene jacket, fleece tights, and water shoes joined the team. He’d jumped out of the Subaru and must have come straight from kayaking.
    â€œLook,” Detective Mueller said. “I understand this is disruptive. A violent or unexplained death takes a toll on everyone. After our team goes through the house, and after the medical examiner has a chance to look at the body, I can let you know more. Right now, I can tell you it will take us several hours before we clear out. It will be noisy and lit up like an operating room. You might want to take off.”
    I looked at Max and raised my eyebrows.
    Max ran his hand