Iced to Death Read Online Free Page B

on? She felt a nagging sense of loss as she dressed to go about her day—her usual jeans, comfy sweater with the sleeves that were a little too long because they’d gotten caught on the agitator in the washer, and a pair of warm, thick-soled shoes. She thought briefly of the pretty dress waiting in her closet . . . would she ever have the chance to wear it now?
    Reg watched intently as Gigi cracked eggs for scrambling. She would top them with some salsa and a dash of grated low-fat cheese and roll them in a low-fat tortilla. Her clients’ dinner had simmered overnight in her slow cooker—delicious, warm and hearty chili that she would serve over half a cup of brown rice. The scent of cumin and chipotle peppers had wound its way into her senses during the night, prompting a dream of backpacking through some foreign, exotic country where the landscape was richly colored in brilliant jewel tones. It had been a disappointment to wake up to such a gloomy day.
    Gigi was spooning scrambled eggs into the tortillas when the back door opened. She jumped.
    “It’s just me,” Pia said, unwinding her scarf and hanging it over the hook next to the door.
    “I thought . . . I assumed you were . . .”
    “I spent the night at the studio.”
    Gigi noticed the dark stains under her sister’s eyes.
    “I was really on a roll. This new piece is going fantastically. Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt you and your detective.” She gave a wicked grin and opened one of the cupboards, pulling out a ceramic mug. “Is there any coffee?”
    Gigi jerked her head in the direction of the coffeemaker and turned toward her sister. “I feel badly. You didn’t need to stay out overnight on my account. Bill left early.”
    “Oh?” Pia paused with the coffeepot poised over her cup. “What happened?”
    Gigi hesitated. She wasn’t totally comfortable confiding in her sister. Pia had never been good at keeping secrets. Gigi remembered telling her about a crush she had had on a boy in sixth grade. Pia had gone to school the next day and told all her friends about her big sister’s infatuation. By lunchtime, half the school had known Gigi’s secret, and the boy in question had taken to avoiding her in the halls.
    But that was then. Pia had grown up. Surely she knew how to keep a confidence now? Besides, Gigi really did need to tell her about helping Declan out. She didn’t want Pia to find out from someone else and assume that there was a reason Gigi had kept it hidden. Because there wasn’t. Gigi had made up her mind. Declan was one of those dazzling, fascinating objects that it was best to look at but not touch.
    Gigi closed the last of her containers and added it to the stack on the counter. She rinsed out her coffee mug and poured herself another cup. She was stalling, and she knew it. She sighed and eased onto one of the stools in front of the island.
    “We had a disagreement,” she began, “about our plans for tonight.” She took a sip of her coffee. It was hotter than she’d expected, and tears came to her eyes.
    “But I thought you were going to that party. You showed me your dress and everything.” Pia opened the freezer and pulled out a box of raspberry toaster pastries.
    Gigi shuddered as Pia slid one of the frosted cakes into the toaster.
    “I was. But Declan asked me to help him in the kitchen. His chef quit, and he’s short-handed.” The words came out in a mumbled rush.
    “Declan? I don’t understand. Why you? I mean . . .”
    “I’m the only person he knows who can find her way around the kitchen. Not that I’ll be doing much more than peeling and chopping and stirring.”
    Pia rounded on Gigi, her eyes glittering. “You fancy him yourself, don’t you?”
    “No!” Gigi said with as much conviction as she could muster.
    “I hope not.” Pia clutched her coffee cup to her chest. “Because
I
fancy him.” She poked her own chest with her index finger. “A lot. He’s absolutely dreamy, and I just know we were