new outfit for Bradley’s funeral, and it seems I’ve gone up a size again.” Her chin wobbled, and a tear snaked its way out from under the dark glasses. “I feel I owe it to him. I was a size two when we married, can you believe it? I promised him I’d get back in shape again, and now, even though it’s too late for Bradley”—she gave a loud sniff—“I feel I ought to do it.”
“Of course.” Gigi thought Barbara looked terrible—as if she hadn’t slept in days. Everything about her seemed to droop—her face, her posture.
“Do you think you can take me on? You’re not too busy?”
“Of course not.”
“Listen,” Barbara pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “Do you know if they ever found my wrap?” She jerked her head in the direction of Declan’s. “I lost it the night of Bradley’s party. It must be at the restaurant somewhere. It’s double-ply cashmere. Black on one side and cream on the other. Maybe when you cleaned up . . .” She shook her head. “Not that it matters now, of course. But Bradley bought it for me. We saw it in a store window, and he insisted on dashing into the shop to buy it for me.” Another tear made its way down her cheek, and she brushed at it impatiently.
“I’m sorry, but as far as I know, we didn’t find anything. You might check with Declan though. It may have turned up in the meantime.”
Barbara nodded. “I suppose I will. And don’t forget to call me.” She tapped Gigi on the arm. “I’d like to get started right away.”
Gigi assured Barbara she would call her later that afternoon, then walked down to the Sweet Kleen Laundry to collect her things.
• • •
“You certainly don’t lack for suspects,” Alice said as she poured a half gallon of milk into a blue-and-white flowered slow cooker.
“What are you making?” Gigi peered into the cooker. She had stopped by Alice’s to return a drill she had borrowed earlier to hang some new pictures.
“I’m making homemade yogurt,” Alice put the top on the cooker. She reached for a battered kettle on the stove and swung it toward Gigi. “Tea?”
“Sure.” It was a gray day with a wind that had a bitter edge to it. Gigi’s fingers were still cold, and some tea would be most welcome. She glanced at Reg, who had curled up underneath Alice’s round oak kitchen table. Even he looked chilled, despite his heavy fur coat.
“I’ll strain it afterward and turn it into Greek yogurt. I found the recipe online and had to try it.” Alice turned the burner on under the water. “As I was saying, we’ve got ourselves plenty of suspects. Always assuming the police aren’t wrong, and Declan really did do it.”
Gigi slumped in her chair. “I’m positive Declan is innocent. Besides, why would he kill Bradley? He’d never met him before that night.”
“You mentioned an argument,” Alice said above the rattle of crockery as she set two teacups and saucers on the table.
“Yes, but it was about the tip for the waitresses. Declan would hardly have killed someone over that.” Gigi ignored the little voice in her head reminding her that she was positive Declan had been lying.
“There were certainly enough other people wanting the nasty bugger dead.” Alice poured boiling water into each of the cups.
Gigi dunked her tea bag in the hot water. “When I was at the Book Nook, this rather strange woman came in. Sienna said she used to work for Simpson and West but was fired for stealing money.”
Alice nodded. “Yes. Janice Novak. Everyone knows about it. Do you think she—”
“Why not? Maybe she’s harbored a grudge against Bradley all this time.”
“True.” Alice sank into the chair opposite Gigi. “And maybe she saw her moment to get revenge. She wanders around Woodstone at all times of the day and night in those strange getups of hers. She might have seen Bradley leaving Declan’s and decided to seize the moment.”
“But how would she have gotten hold of the ice
“Of course.” Gigi thought Barbara looked terrible—as if she hadn’t slept in days. Everything about her seemed to droop—her face, her posture.
“Do you think you can take me on? You’re not too busy?”
“Of course not.”
“Listen,” Barbara pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “Do you know if they ever found my wrap?” She jerked her head in the direction of Declan’s. “I lost it the night of Bradley’s party. It must be at the restaurant somewhere. It’s double-ply cashmere. Black on one side and cream on the other. Maybe when you cleaned up . . .” She shook her head. “Not that it matters now, of course. But Bradley bought it for me. We saw it in a store window, and he insisted on dashing into the shop to buy it for me.” Another tear made its way down her cheek, and she brushed at it impatiently.
“I’m sorry, but as far as I know, we didn’t find anything. You might check with Declan though. It may have turned up in the meantime.”
Barbara nodded. “I suppose I will. And don’t forget to call me.” She tapped Gigi on the arm. “I’d like to get started right away.”
Gigi assured Barbara she would call her later that afternoon, then walked down to the Sweet Kleen Laundry to collect her things.
• • •
“You certainly don’t lack for suspects,” Alice said as she poured a half gallon of milk into a blue-and-white flowered slow cooker.
“What are you making?” Gigi peered into the cooker. She had stopped by Alice’s to return a drill she had borrowed earlier to hang some new pictures.
“I’m making homemade yogurt,” Alice put the top on the cooker. She reached for a battered kettle on the stove and swung it toward Gigi. “Tea?”
“Sure.” It was a gray day with a wind that had a bitter edge to it. Gigi’s fingers were still cold, and some tea would be most welcome. She glanced at Reg, who had curled up underneath Alice’s round oak kitchen table. Even he looked chilled, despite his heavy fur coat.
“I’ll strain it afterward and turn it into Greek yogurt. I found the recipe online and had to try it.” Alice turned the burner on under the water. “As I was saying, we’ve got ourselves plenty of suspects. Always assuming the police aren’t wrong, and Declan really did do it.”
Gigi slumped in her chair. “I’m positive Declan is innocent. Besides, why would he kill Bradley? He’d never met him before that night.”
“You mentioned an argument,” Alice said above the rattle of crockery as she set two teacups and saucers on the table.
“Yes, but it was about the tip for the waitresses. Declan would hardly have killed someone over that.” Gigi ignored the little voice in her head reminding her that she was positive Declan had been lying.
“There were certainly enough other people wanting the nasty bugger dead.” Alice poured boiling water into each of the cups.
Gigi dunked her tea bag in the hot water. “When I was at the Book Nook, this rather strange woman came in. Sienna said she used to work for Simpson and West but was fired for stealing money.”
Alice nodded. “Yes. Janice Novak. Everyone knows about it. Do you think she—”
“Why not? Maybe she’s harbored a grudge against Bradley all this time.”
“True.” Alice sank into the chair opposite Gigi. “And maybe she saw her moment to get revenge. She wanders around Woodstone at all times of the day and night in those strange getups of hers. She might have seen Bradley leaving Declan’s and decided to seize the moment.”
“But how would she have gotten hold of the ice
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