Free Iced to Death by Peg Cochran Page B

she’s teething, although we can’t see anything yet.”
    “She didn’t come right out and say it. She sort of left it hanging.” Gigi wondered if she could have misunderstood Cheryl. She didn’t think so.
    “Sounds like you’ve found the perfect suspect.” Sienna grinned, and Gigi knew she was thinking of some of their past detecting adventures. “What do the police think?”
    Gigi slumped in her seat. She still hadn’t heard from Mertz. “I don’t know. Mertz and I had something of a falling out. He didn’t want me helping Declan out the night of the party although I assured him I’m not attracted to the man in the least.” Gigi remembered some of the feelings she’d had while sitting in the kitchen with Declan, after everyone had left, and a flash of heat rushed to her cheeks.
    Sienna glanced at her quizzically. She’d taken Camille from her bouncy seat and had the baby cradled against her shoulder. “Why do I think there’s something you’re not telling me?”
    “There isn’t.” Gigi protested a little too fiercely. She had to force herself not to squirm.
    “So the police haven’t identified any suspects yet?” Sienna shifted the now-sleeping Camille slightly. The baby’s hands were tangled in Sienna’s long mane of golden hair, and her tiny, rosebud mouth was partially open.
    Gigi shook her head. “Not that I know of, but I imagine Declan is going to be at the top of their list.” The thought made her shiver again, and she clutched her coffee cup more tightly.
    “Mertz wouldn’t do that just because—”
    “Oh, no. Not just because he’s jealous. Mertz would never do that.” Gigi looked into the depths of her steaming mug of coffee. “It’s because of what they found at the scene.”
    “Something that traces to Declan?”
    “Yes. The ice pick that was used to kill Bradley had Declan’s name carved into it.”
    Sienna drew in her breath sharply, and Camille gave a muffled cry before settling back down to sleep. “That doesn’t look good. But someone could have taken it from his kitchen.”
    “True. But how is he going to prove that?”
    “What reason would Declan have for killing Bradley Simpson? Did they even know each other before last night?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
    The bell over the front door tinkled, and a blast of cold air drifted toward the coffee corner. Sienna stood up briefly. “Madison’s behind the register. She’ll keep a lookout.”
    Gigi was refilling her coffee cup when the newly arrived customer suddenly appeared around the end of one of the shelving units. She had on a strange assortment of ill-fitting clothing—red-and-white-striped socks, clogs that looked to be about an inch too long, wide-legged trousers that ended well above her ankles, and a corduroy car coat with sleeves that hung down past the tips of her fingers. She rounded the corner and headed toward the back of the store.
    Gigi looked at Sienna with her eyebrows raised. Sienna glanced over her shoulder quickly.
    “That’s Janice Novak. I’ve heard she gets most of her clothes out of the Dumpsters around town,” she whispered.
    “That’s so sad.”
    Sienna nodded. “She used to work for Simpson and West in their accounting department.” Sienna glanced around and lowered her voice even further. “Apparently she embezzled some small sum of money from the firm.” She mouthed the words
gambling problem
.
    “Too bad.”
    “The firm decided not to press charges, but the partners refused to give her a reference, and she can’t get much of a job anywhere else. Besides, just about everyone in Woodstone knows about it—Bradley Simpson was apparently quite vocal when it happened. I heard she was working at the Dollar Store in that strip mall on the edge of town, but when her register didn’t add up one night, they let her go.”
    “That’s a shame.”
    “It’s made her a little . . . off.”
    Gigi also realized that it made her more than just a little
off
, to use