Read No Place Like Home Online
Authors: Mary Higgins Clark
No Place Like Home
Acclaim for
THE QUEEN OF SUSPENSE
#1
New York Times
Bestselling Author
MARY HIGGINS CLARK
NO PLACE LIKE HOME
“Mary Higgins Clark's awesome gift for storytelling has always been the secret of her strength as a suspense novelist. But let's credit her as well for something more subtleâher intuitive grasp of the anxieties of everyday life that can spiral into full-blown terror. In [
No Place Like Home
], this canny writer . . . comes up with a cunning variation on the haunted-house theme.”
âThe New York Times
NIGHTTIME IS MY TIME
“Creeping menace that is genuinely scary.”
âThe New York Times
“Clark's multitude of fans will be happy . . . to participate in the guessing game.”
âPublishers Weekly
THE SECOND TIME AROUND
“Clark keeps the chase lively throughout.”
âPeople
“[Clark] knows how to spin an intriguing tale . . . she's created a convincing heroine in Carley.”
âBooklist
“There's something special about Clark's thrillers . . . . Grace, charm, and solid storytelling.”
âPublishers Weekly
DADDY'S LITTLE GIRL
“A fast and fascinating read.”
âKnoxville News-Sentinel
(TN)
“Her best in years . . . a tightly woven, emotionally potent tale of suspense and revenge . . . . With its textured plot, well-sketched secondary characters, strong pacing, and appealing heroine, this is Clark at her most winning.”
âPublishers Weekly
“Few stories of obsession will grab readers quite like this one.”
âOttawa Citizen
“The plot is classic Clark, except the author tells her story from a first-person perspective. She pulls it off well.”
âStar Ledger
(NJ)
ON THE STREET WHERE YOU LIVE
“Is a reincarnated serial killer at work in a New Jersey resort town more than a century after he first drew blood? That's the catchy premise that supports [this] plot-driven novel.”
âPublishers Weekly
“A suspenseful page-turner that will delight her many fans.”
âBooklist
BEFORE I SAY GOOD-BYE
“Mary Higgins Clark knows what she's doing . . . . This savvy author always comes up with something unexpected . . . . A hold-your-breath ending.”
âThe New York Times Book Review
“For someone who loves plot, Mary Higgins Clark's
Before I Say Good-bye
should be like manna from heaven . . . . [The] âQueen of Suspense' clearly knows what her readers want. Here she provides it, in spades.”
âLos Angeles Times
“A smooth and easy read.”
âNew York Post
“The storytelling skills of the newest grandmaster of mystery writing have never been better.”
âThe Hartford Courant
(CT)
“Clark holds the reins the whole way through this tale of mischief and secrets, allowing us to unwind her labyrinth of hidden clues only as she wants them to unfold.”
âThe Christian Science Monitor
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âWhere are You Now?' Excerpt
In joyful memory of
Annie Tryon Adams,
blithe spirit and dear friend
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
Last year, my friend Dorothea Krusky, who is a real estate agent, asked me if I knew about a New Jersey law that states that a real estate agent must inform a prospective buyer if the home he or she is considering carries a stigma that might cause psychological damage to the purchaser.
“Maybe there's a book in it for you,” she suggested.
No Place Like Home
is the result of that suggestion. Thank you, Dorothea.
I am so grateful to those wonderful people who are always there for me from the moment I begin to tell the story.
Michael Korda has been my friend and editor par excellence for three decades. Senior editor Chuck Adams has been a part of our team for the last dozen years. I am grateful to both of them for everything they do to guide this writer along the way.
My literary agents, Eugene Winick and Sam Pinkus, are true friends, good critics, and great supporters. I love them.
Dr. Ina Winick again has brought her psychological
expertise to assist me with the manuscript in progress.
Dr. James Cassidy answered my many questions about the treatment of a traumatized child and how she would express her emotions.
Lisl Cade, my publicist and dear forever friend, is always there for me. Again and always, a tip of the hat to Associate Director of Copyediting Gypsy da Silva. Many thanks also to copy editor Anthony Newfield.
Barbara A. Barisonek of the Turpin Real Estate Agency gave generously of her time and knowledge in acquainting me with the history of Mendham and the technicalities of a real estate practice.
Agnes Newton, Nadine Petry, and Irene Clark are always in my corner for my literary journeys. And special thanks to Jennifer Roberts, business center associate at The Breakers, Palm Beach, Florida.
Two books were of great assistance in deepening my knowledge of the homes and history of the Mendhams. They are
Images of America: The Mendhams
by John W. Rae and
The Somerset Hills, New Jersey Country Homes
by John K. Turpin and W. Barry Thomson, with introduction by Mark Allen Hewit.
The special joy is that after the tale is told, it is time to celebrate with all the children and grandchildren, and of course, “Himself,” my ever-perfect husband, John Conheeney.
And now I hope you, my valued readers, will enjoy this book, and after reading it will agree that there really is no place like home.
Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks;
When she saw what she had done
She gave her father forty-one!
ROLOGUE
T
en-year-old Liza was dreaming her favorite dream, the one about the day when she was six years old, and she and Daddy were at the beach, in New Jersey, at Spring Lake. They'd been in the water, holding hands and jumping together whenever a wave broke near them. Then a much bigger wave suddenly rushed in and began to break right over them, and Daddy grabbed her. “Hang on, Liza,” he yelled, and the next minute they were tumbling under water and being thrown around by the wave. Liza had been so scared.
She could still feel her forehead slamming into the sand when the wave crashed them onto the shore. She had swallowed water and was coughing and her eyes were stinging and she was crying but then Daddy pulled her onto his lap. “Now
that
was a wave!” he said, as he brushed the sand from her face, “but we rode it out together, didn't we, Liza?”
That was the best part of the dreamâhaving Daddy's arms around her and feeling so safe.
Before the next summer came around, Daddy had died. After that she'd never really felt safe again. Now she was always afraid, because Mom had made Ted, her stepfather, move out of the house. Ted didn't want a divorce, and he kept pestering Mom, wanting her to let him come back. Liza knew she wasn't the only one afraid; Mom was afraid, too.
Liza tried not to listen. She wanted to go back into the dream of being in Daddy's arms, but the voices kept waking her up.
Someone was crying and yelling. Did she hear Mom calling Daddy's name? What was she saying? Liza sat up and slid out of bed.
Mom always left the door to Liza's bedroom open just a little so that she could see the light in the hall. And until she married Ted last year, she had always told Liza that if she woke up and felt sad, she could come into her room and sleep with her. Once Ted moved in, she'd never gotten in bed with her mother again.
It was Ted's voice she heard now. He was yelling at Mom, and Mom was screaming. “Let go of me!”
Liza knew that Mom was so afraid of Ted, and that since he'd moved out she even kept Daddy's gun in the drawer of her night table. Liza rushed down the hall, her feet moving noiselessly along the padded carpet. The door of Mom's sitting room was open and inside she could see that Ted had Mom pinned against the wall and was shaking her. Liza ran past the sitting room and went directly into her mother's bedroom. She hurried
around the bed and yanked open the night table drawer. Trembling, she grabbed the gun and ran back to the sitting room.
Standing in the doorway, she pointed the gun at Ted and screamed, “Let go of my mother!”
Ted spun around, still holding on to Mom, his eyes wide and angry. The veins in his forehead were sticking out. Liza could see the tears streaming down her mother's cheeks.
“Sure,” he yelled. With a violent thrust, he shoved Liza's mother at her. When she crashed into Liza, the gun went off. Then Liza heard a funny little gurgle and Mom crumpled to the floor. Liza looked down at her mother, then up at Ted. He began to lunge toward her, and Liza pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. She pulled it again and again, until he fell down and then began crawling across the room and tried to grab the gun from her. When it wouldn't fire anymore, she dropped the gun and got down on the floor and put her arms around her mother. There was no sound, and she knew her mother was dead.