Black Widow by Jennifer Estep Page A

she blinked, then blinked again, and the hot rage in her gaze cooled, congealed, and crystallized into icy, calculating hate. Yeah. Mine too.
    I stayed up in her face a few seconds longer to let her know that I’d seen her hesitation, then drew back behind the cash register. “You should have come at me head-on, but you just had to play a little game with me instead.”
    â€œPerhaps I like my games ,” Madeline replied, her voice and features mild and unruffled again.
    â€œOh, I know you do. But there’s one problem with playing games.”
    She arched her eyebrow at me again. “Oh, really? What’s that?”
    I smiled, showing her my teeth and all the cold, cold venom in my heart. “There’s always a chance that you can lose.”
    Another flash of uncertainty darkened her eyes before she was able to hide it. “I never lose, Gin. And I don’t intend to now.”
    â€œIntentions are for fools. You do, or you don’t. Or in your case, you just die .”
    Her crimson lips pulled back, and she returned my smile with an even wider, toothier one of her own. “Oh, I think that you’re talking about yourself in this case, Gin. After all, you’re the one in trouble with the law, not me.”
    â€œWe’ll see.”
    â€œYes, we will,” she murmured. “Yes, we will .”
    We stared at each other a few more seconds before Madeline tilted her head at me.
    â€œAs much as I enjoy our little chats, I’m afraid I must be going. I’ve still got that dedication to attend. And you . . .” She stared around the deserted restaurant. “Well, you’ve got a lot of problems to take care of, don’t you?”
    I didn’t respond.
    â€œBut don’t let this little bit of unpleasantness get you down. I do hope that you enjoy the rest of your day, Gin. I know I certainly will.”
    Madeline gave me one more arrogant smirk before she pivoted on her white stiletto and sashayed out of the Pork Pit.

8
    I would have liked nothing more than to palm a knife, run around the counter, and bury the blade up to the hilt in Madeline’s back. But I couldn’t do that. Not without getting even more stuck in her web than I already was.
    Besides, Emery and Dobson were peering in through the windows, waiting for me to attack Madeline. Attempted murder would land me in a jail cell lickety-split, and if that happened, then the acid elemental would get exactly what she wanted.
    I wasn’t about to fall into that trap, so I let her walk away—for now.
    A few seconds later, the front door opened, and Silvio stepped inside.
    I untied my apron, pulled it off, and tossed it onto the counter. “Now what?”
    He came over to me, grabbed his silverstone briefcase from where he’d left it on the counter, and opened it, slidinghis tablet inside. “They’re taking Sophia down to the main police station to book her for assaulting Dobson. Given the situation, I suggest that we follow them and be waiting when they process her so we can bail her out as quickly as possible.”
    I nodded, scanning the storefront, but Catalina was nothing if not efficient. In addition to cashing out the customers, she’d also gone ahead and turned off the appliances, put the extra food away, and stacked the dirty dishes into plastic tubs. All I had to do was walk out the front door, lock it behind me, and the restaurant would be closed.
    The only loose end was the dead woman in the freezer, but it wasn’t like I could move her body to a better location right now. Not with Dobson and the cops milling around outside and peering in through the windows. I didn’t even dare to leave the storefront and go stack some boxes on top of the freezer. The cops might notice, come back in, and search the restaurant again.
    But instead of leaving, I settled my gaze on the framed, blood-spattered copy of Where the Red Fern Grows that hung on the