Address to Die For Read Online Free Page A

through his curls, looked up at the house, then across the yard to the barn. “Detective, we’ve got some thinking to do—decisions and arrangements to make.”
    Max grabbed my hand. “I think we’ll head down to the barn, finish our lunch, and figure out our next step. Our cats are closed up in a closet in the big bedroom at the top of the stairs. Can you make sure your people don’t let them out?”
    The detective nodded. “We’ll need to interview you later. Please let us know if you need anything from the house or if you need to go anywhere.”
    He turned toward his team and took a few brisk strides toward the house before turning back.
    â€œMr. McDonald, did you know the dead man? Had you seen him before?”
    Max shook his head. “Once I realized he was dead, I cleared out. I didn’t get a good look.” He furrowed his forehead and stroked his chin. “I suppose he could be Javier Hernandez, my aunt’s caretaker. That would explain a lot.” He wrinkled his nose and his skin turned an alarming shade of greenish gray. “Would you like me to take another look? Or I can call my aunt’s lawyer and find out if anyone else had keys, if that would help. He’s out of the office for the long weekend, but I can call him next week.”
    Detective Mueller jotted something in a dog-eared notebook with a stubby pencil. “If you can get me the lawyer’s name and number, I’ll see if we can get hold of him sooner than that.” He held up his cell phone. “Can you both give me your contact information?”
    While Max and the detective exchanged numbers, I focused on the kids, hoping that chores and clear instructions would provide a sense of normalcy.
    â€œDavid, take the lunch cooler down to the barn. Brian, take Belle. Dad and I will be there in a minute.”
    The kids took off at a run. Max grabbed my hand and squeezed gently. “It’s going to work out,” he said.
    We packed up the rest of our lunch, stopped at the car to grab a package of Oreos I’d been saving for later, and walked down the pathway of trampled grass, dirt, and gravel that led across the yard to the barn and the dry creek beyond. Any physician would have taken one look at us and prescribed Oreos all around.
    â€œI can’t believe this,” I said. “I thought this was going to be so easy: move into a turn-key house and tell the movers where to place the furniture. We unpack, make the beds, fill the refrigerator, and get the kids in school—a done deal.”
    Max stopped and looked at me. “Man plans. God laughs,” he said. It was a Yiddish proverb, passed down from his Aunt Kay. She’d spurned religion but peppered her speech with idiomatic expressions from a wide range of cultures.
    â€œSo, I’m delusional.” I shrugged, fighting off tears of frustration. “I expected a few things to go wrong, but today has been the opposite of what we’d planned. All this mess . . .” I waved my arms to indicate the chaotic mass of people and equipment that had transformed our house and yard. “And now a dead body. A body , Max. Who plans for a dead body ?”
    Max took me in his arms and hugged me, kissed the top of my head and said, “That dead body may not be our biggest problem.”

Chapter 3
    Establishing organized systems makes it easy for most people to handle routine cleaning. But when you’re in over your head, there’s no shame in calling a professional.
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    From the Notebook of Maggie McDonald
    Simplicity Itself Organizing Services
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    Thursday, August 28, Afternoon
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    I pushed Max away and stared at him, convinced his words were an unfunny joke or that I’d misheard him.
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œThe body might not be our biggest problem.” Max stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground like a kid who knew he should tell the truth, but