Murder in the Air Read Online Free Page B

break the habit of bringing a present to a birthday party,” Caroline admitted.
    Minutes later they drove up the winding road that led to Carrington House. The stone manor house, built by a rich entrepreneur in the early twentieth century, sat atop a crest, behind which flowed a two-tiered bluestone patio and an extensive lawn, bounded by woods on each side. They followed the road to the parking area, passing azalea and rhododendron bushes bursting with red and purple blossoms. Lydia smiled as they climbed the wide stairs rising to the front entrance. Though she worked here three days a week, she never failed to admire the graceful lines of the mansion enhanced by its perfect setting.
    She winked at Thomas, the evening manager, who showed them into the small cloakroom to the left of the entrance. Lydia and Benny placed Daniel’s birthday presents on a table beside other gift-wrapped boxes. Clearly, they weren’t the only guests to ignore the “no gifts” request.
    From there, Thomas ushered then into a high-ceilinged, tastefully decorated salon, its trio of floor-to-ceiling windows allowing the last rays of sun to filter through the sheer curtains. A harpist played softly in the corner while young servers circulated among the thirty or so guests, offering champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Lydia, finding herself separated from her friends, reached for a glass of champagne. She sipped, exchanged greetings with a Twin Lakes couple, and then went in search of her host and hostess.
    Evelyn and Daniel stood welcoming their guests beside a brocade sofa in the center of the room. They made an elegant couple: Evelyn in a pale green satin gown that set off her salon-coiffed, auburn hair; Daniel, tall and dashing in a tuxedo.
    Lydia kissed them both. “What a wonderful party, Evelyn. Happy birthday, Daniel. And many, many more.”
    They embraced her warmly. Daniel slipped an arm about her waist.
    “Thank you, Lydia. You’re one of our favorites, and we’re delighted you’re celebrating with us.” He grinned and lowered his voice. “Stay tuned to the big announcement later on.”
    Evelyn reached inside her beaded purse and slipped a ring on her finger. She extended her left hand to show Lydia the sparkling diamond. At least three carets, Lydia surmised, in an exquisite modern platinum setting.
    “It’s beautiful! Congratulations, both of you. I wish the two of you every happiness.”
    “Thank you, my dear,” Daniel said, looking past her, “but please keep it to yourself for the time being.”
    “Certainly,” Lydia murmured, watching Evelyn return the ring to her purse. She was puzzled. Surely others must have noticed this display. But she had no time to wonder about it, because a flurry of people were descending on Daniel, hugging him and nodding to Evelyn. Lydia started to move away, when Daniel called after her.
    “Lydia, come and meet my children!”
    “With pleasure,” she said, though she would have much preferred to leave Daniel to his family. She knew and liked his youngest daughter, but the older two—Evelyn had confided—were bad news.
    Daniel made the introductions, his hand resting on the sloped shoulder of the fifty-something, balding man in glasses who stood beside him. “This is my son, Arnold; his wife, Madge.” He presented their two children and their spouses, whose names Lydia quickly forgot. “And my favorite great-granddaughter, Elizabeth.”
    “Your only great-grandchild, Poppy,” the ten-year-old informed him.
    Everyone laughed. Lydia, knowing Daniel’s son and his offspring had rented a van so they could all travel together from New Jersey, asked about their drive to Long Island. To her dismay, Arnold told her in detail how bad the traffic had been on the Garden State Parkway and the George Washington Bridge, and of the accident on the Cross Bronx Expressway. Before he could complain about the traffic pattern on the Long Island Expressway, his daughter, Carolee, a younger, prettier