Page 93 of The Cottage on Plum Island
Jennifer gritted her teeth ruing the day she’d agreed to go for a freakin’ DNA test in Boston. Which was no longer her favorite city! Jennifer stepped back her mind, finding alternate routes to fly to New York rather than through Boston.
Good grief!Jennifer walked to the key hook on the wall a few feet from the door and got the garage remote she handed to Wallis.This is what I get for wanting to talk Harriet into doing one of those escape rooms with me for my birthday because I needed some action and adventure in my life.Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head.You have a sick sense of humor, universe!
“Do you have something to eat?” Angela asked, eyeing the kitchen.
“Help yourself.” Jennifer pointed toward the kitchen. “I’m sure Aunt Betty has a kitchen full of food. Her housekeeper comes twice a week and stocks up.”
“Thank you.” Angela dashed into the kitchen.
Annie watched her go, and Jennifer noted how fond Annie was of Angela. She frowned, tilting her head.
“You really care about her, don’t you?” Jennifer asked Annie.
Annie looked at Jennifer and nodded. “The poor woman has been through so much thanks to her family.” She shook her head, her eyes narrowed, and her voice filled with venom. “Especially that no good sister of hers. I never trusted Clair.”
That alarmed Jennifer, whose pulse again started racing as nervous thoughts tumbled into her head. “You disliked Clair?” Her eyes narrowed. She knew she should stop asking, but she couldn’t help herself. Jennifer needed to put the pieces together. “Enough to kill her?”
“What?” Annie looked at her in horror. “You think I killed Clair?”
“Annie didn’t kill Clair,” Angela walked through with a box of cherry Pop-Tarts under her arm and munching on some chocolate chip cookies.
Where on earth does that slip of a woman put all the junk food she eats?Jennifer gave herself another mental shake.Now is not the time to drift into procrastination thoughts.
“Then who did?” Jennifer asked as Wallis walked inside.
Jennifer stepped back toward the glass sliding door on the far side of the living room as she heard him close and lock the front door. Her eyes scanned the three people, who were really strangers to her, standing in her house. Three strangers were involved in a murder, and Jennifer had just left them in the house. She went from feeling like Alice falling through a rabbit hole to the little pig who’d just left three big bad wolves in its brick house.
Before anyone could answer, someone banged on the front door. The moment had gotten so tense in the living room that Jennifer nearly had a heart attack as the first thump hit the oak door.
“Jennifer!” A male voice was muffled and undistinguishable through the thick door. “Jennifer. Are you in there?”
The four people in the house went deathly quiet, looking at each other in wide-eyed fear. The thumping stopped, and there was silence for a few moments.
“Jennifer!” The male voice bellowed from the glass door, making her yelp and spin around. “Let me in.”
Her hand covered her heart as it nearly shot out her chest. Jennifer’s breath came out in a pant as the fear slowly subsided, and she rushed toward the door, glad to see someone she trusted standing there.
“Sam!” Jennifer was still trying to regulate her breath as she slid the door open and threw herself into his arms. “Oh, thank goodness it’s you.”
“Are you okay, honey?” Sam squeezed her before stepping back.
Her eyes narrowed at him. “But announce yourself next time.” Jennifer hissed. “You know I have a genetic heart condition, and you nearly gave me heart failure.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam apologized before stepping around her and walking into the house. “Are you all okay?”
The other three occupants of the living room all greeted Sam the same way Jennifer had. With relief! She closed the glass door, locked it, and drew the curtains.
“Now that we’re all here,” Jennifer indicated to the chairs. “Inmyhouse. Why don’t you all take a seat and tell mewhat the heck is going on!“ She plonked down in her aunt’s favorite wingback chair, eyeing herguests.
Sam sat next to Annie on the small sofa while Wallis and Angela sat on the larger sofa with Angela’s pile of snacks between them.
“Can I make you a sandwich or get you an apple?” Jennifer asked Angela, who’d nearly polished off an entire box of choc-chip cookies.
“Oh no,” Angela declined. “I’m fine with these snacks.”
Jennifer looked at her, feeling ill at the amount of sugar and empty carbs Angela was consuming, before moving her attention to Annie.
“You can start by telling me what you and your nephew Duncan were doing in Harley’s garage lockup,” Jennifer looked at Annie.
