Read Where Are the Children? for Free Online

pretty little thing with that waist-length hair. According to the papers she was twenty-five at the time the murders were committed. She looked even younger - not much more than a teenager. The dresses she wore were so youthful . . . almost childish . . . they added to the overall effect. Probably her attorney had suggested that she look as young as possible.
    Funny, but ever since he'd started planning this book he'd felt that he'd seen that girl somewhere. He stared at the pictures in front of him. Of course. She looked like a younger version of Ray Eldredge's wife! That explained the nagging resemblance. The expression was totally different, but wouldn't it be a small world if there was some family relationship?
    His eye fell on the first typewritten page which gave a rundown on Nancy Harmon. She had been born in California and raised in Ohio. Well, that let out any possibility of her being a close relative to Nancy Eldredge. Ray's wife's family had been neighbours of Dorothy Prentiss in Virginia.
    Dorothy Prentiss. He felt a quick dart of pleasure at the thought of the handsome woman who worked with Ray. Jonathan often stopped by their office around five o'clock, when he picked up the evening paper, the Boston Globe. Ray had suggested some interesting land investments to him, and they had all proved sound. He'd also persuaded Jonathan to become active in the town, and as a result they'd become good friends.
    Still, Jonathan realized that he went into Ray's office more often than necesary. Ray would say, 'You're just in time for an end-of-the-day drink' and call out to Dorothy to join them.
    Emily had liked daiquiris. Dorothy always had Jonathan's favourite drink - a Rob Roy with a twist. The three of them would sit for a half hour or so in Ray's private office.
    Dorothy had a penetrating humour that he enjoyed. Her family had been show-business people, and she had
    countless great stories about travelling with them. She'd planned a career too, but after three small parts Off Broadway she had got married and settled down in Virginia. After her husband died she'd come up to the Cape planning to open an interior-decorating shop, then had got started working with Ray. Ray said that Dorothy was a hell of a real-estate saleswoman. She could help people visualize the possibilities in a place, no matter how seedy it looked at first glance.
    More and more often lately Jonathan had toyed with the idea of suggesting that Dorothy join him for dinner. Sundays were long, and a couple of Sunday afternoons recently he'd actually started to dial her number, then stopped. He didn't want to rush into getting involved with someone he'd run into constantly. And he just wasn't sure. Maybe she came on a little too strong for him. All those years of living with Emily's total femininity had made him somewhat unprepared for reacting on a personal level with a terribly independent woman.
    God, what was the matter with him? He was so easily diverted into woolgathering this morning. Why was he letting himself get distracted from this Harmon case?
    Resolutely he lit his pipe, picked up the file and leaned back in his chair. Deliberately he picked up the first batch of papers.
    An hour and fifteen minutes passed. The silence was unbroken except for the ticking of the clock, the increasing insistence of the wind through the pines outside his window and Jonathan's occasional snort of disbelief. Finally, frowning in concentration, he laid the papers down and walked slowly to the kitchen to make coffee. Something smelled about that whole Harmon trial. From as much of the transcript as he'd read through so far it was evident that there was something fishy there ... an undercurrent that made it impossible for the facts to hang together in any kind of reasonably cohesive way.
    He went into the immaculate kitchen and absently half-filled the kettle. While he waited for it to heat, he walked to the front door. The Cape Cod Community News was already on the