Trace (Trace 1)
“The addition was easily twice as big as the section of house visible from the roadway, and inside the el there was room for a swimming pool and tennis court and elaborately manicured gardens. Trace saw a dog kennel in one far corner of the property with two beautiful black and copper Gordon setters lounging inside.
There was no street behind the Carey house and the property rolled away to a large clump of trees. Far in the back, he saw what looked like a large pond.
The doorbell was answered by... a woman wearing a housedress of red-striped cotton and a kerchief around her head.
“My name is Tracy. I’d like to see Mrs. Carey.”
“Oh, yes?” the woman said, and then waited.
Trace hesitated, then said, “I’m a friend of a friend’s. Bob Swenson. From Garrison Fidelity Insurance?”
“Oh, Mr. Tracy,” the woman said. “How is Bob? It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”
“You’re Mrs. Carey?”
“Yes, of course.” The woman took the kerchief from her head and shook loose her naturally graying blond hair.MoreLess
There was no street behind the Carey house and the property rolled away to a large clump of trees. Far in the back, he saw what looked like a large pond.
The doorbell was answered by... a woman wearing a housedress of red-striped cotton and a kerchief around her head.
“My name is Tracy. I’d like to see Mrs. Carey.”
“Oh, yes?” the woman said, and then waited.
Trace hesitated, then said, “I’m a friend of a friend’s. Bob Swenson. From Garrison Fidelity Insurance?”
“Oh, Mr. Tracy,” the woman said. “How is Bob? It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”
“You’re Mrs. Carey?”
“Yes, of course.” The woman took the kerchief from her head and shook loose her naturally graying blond hair.MoreLess
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