Free Steamed to Death by Peg Cochran Page A

you-know-what by taking out some kind of policy on her.”
    “Really?” Now Gigi was listening in earnest, her own elbows resting comfortably on the counter, her groceries forgotten.
    Evelyn nodded vigorously, causing her bob to swing to and fro. “Yes. I guess it’s S - O - P —standard operating procedure—in that business. If for some reason Miss Davenport doesn’t show up, takes ill, walks off, whatever—you know how temperamental those actor types can be—then he gets the money from the insurance policy.”
    What she wanted to say was How on earth did you hear about that? but she settled for, “How interesting. I suppose you’re sure . . .”
    Evelyn nodded her head vigorously. “Hunter Pierce was just in buying some herbes de Provence. I overheard him talking to his companion—some young man I didn’t recognize—I suppose he came out from the city.”
    Evelyn said city as if it were a four-letter word.
    “He was complaining about it,” she continued, leaning closer toward Gigi. “About how Felicity’s manager was going to get all this money, and once again the Woodstone Players were going to be left in the hole.”
    Well, she was certainly leaving with more than just her groceries, Gigi thought, as she exited Bon Appétit and headed toward her car. She sat in the MINI for a minute contemplating what Evelyn had told her. If, and it was a big if , what Evelyn told her was true, then Don Bartholomew, Felicity’s manager, had a very good reason for wanting his client out of the way. Felicity had been Don’s golden goose for many, many years, but she was getting too old now to lay any more golden eggs. Parts for middle-aged women were notoriously few and far between. Don’s prize client had become more of a liability than an asset.
    Gigi glanced at her watch and realized she needed to hurry, or she might miss Jackson and his arrival with the life-saving pipe. She put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
    She was passing the Woodstone Police Station when something caught her eye. She slowed and looked again and realized it was Alice, standing on the sidewalk, her rather unruly hair blowing every which way. She waved crazily at Gigi.
    Gigi slowed and pulled over to the curb, double-parking next to a red Honda. She buzzed down her window.
    Alice was nearly gasping by the time she reached Gigi’s car. “I’m so glad I caught you!” She gripped the edge of the window, attempting to catch her breath.
    “What’s wrong?” Gigi felt herself catching some of Alice’s anxiety even though she had no idea what was going on.
    “It’s Sienna.”
    Gigi’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no. Has something happened to the baby?” Her hand inched toward the ignition. If something was wrong with Sienna, she had to get to her right away.
    Alice shook her head, her blues eyes nearly bulging in excitement. “No, no, the baby’s fine. It’s Detective Mertz.” She paused to catch her breath.
    Now Gigi was more confused than ever. Detective Mertz?
    “He’s . . . he’s . . .” Alice said, trying to get the words out. “He’s on his way to arrest Sienna for Felicity’s murder.”

Chapter 7
    By the time she pulled into Sienna’s driveway, Gigi’s heart was clamoring in her chest, and she knew her face was as red as her scarlet MINI Cooper. Her Irish was rising, and her Italian was right on board. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam spewing out of her nostrils.
    Mertz’s Crown Vic was already in the drive, pulled up to the front door of Sienna and Oliver’s renovated carriage house. Everything was quiet except for the rustling of the wind in the leaves and the rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker hammering at a tree.
    Gigi stormed up the front steps of the fieldstone and half-timber house and slammed the pineapple-shaped knocker against the bright red door.
    When Sienna yanked it open, Gigi was shocked to see how white-faced she was. Her first thought was for the baby and what this