The Iced Princess by Christine Husom

husband, too.”
    â€œThat’s thoughtful.” It was not the time to bring up my fearthat her husband might file a lawsuit against us. He didn’t get high up on the corporate attorney ladder on good looks alone. If we sent him flowers, would he take it as a kind gesture or an admission of guilt?
    Mom asked me more about Molly’s death, and I filled her in, leaving out some of the upsetting details. And she didn’t need to hear that both Mr. and Senator Zimmer had darkened the shops’ doorways at different times that morning. “Oh, and our other employee, Emmy, is already taking a leave of absence to go stay with a friend in need.”
    â€œGoodness me. Well, if you need your dad to fill in, I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out.”
    â€œThanks, I will let you know.”
    â€œAnd you get some sleep tonight, Cami. All right?”
    â€œAll right.” But nothing was all right, not by any stretch of the imagination.
    We’d barely said our good-byes when the front doorbell rang. I braced myself, thinking it would be Clint wanting to ask me more questions. I peeked around the drape that covered the living room picture window. I had zero desire to see Sandy Gibbons, but there she was, standing on my front step with her brown hair flying straight up in the wind. I opened the door so she wouldn’t try to pump my parents for information they didn’t have. And she did look cold.
    â€œCami, if it weren’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any at all. That’s certainly been true lately, at least.” Sandy was not known for her tact. She was missing the filtering gene that stopped most of us from saying things that might offend others. “Brrr, that north wind is brutal tonight.” She stepped inside, and her hair fell back down and formed an unusualhairdo. Not unlike what mine looked like when I crawled out of bed in the morning.
    â€œI’ve had a couple of bad—okay, really bad—things happen in the last month or so, but I don’t know if it has anything to do with luck.”
    Sandy waved her hand in the air as if she were dispelling my words. “Can we sit down for a few minutes? I’ve been running all over town, and I’m not exactly a spring chicken, you know.” She had seemed about the same age, sixtyish, for as far back as I could remember. She was likely nearing seventy by now.
    â€œLet’s sit at the kitchen table.” I led the way. She plopped her large purse on the table then fished inside of it and came out with a notebook and laid it on the table. Then, as she lowered her body onto a chair, she slipped off her coat and let it drop on the seat behind her. She reached into the front of her shirt and pulled a pen from heaven knows where, ready to write.
    Sandy sucked in a giant breath and looked me squarely in the eyes. “All right. I know someone died in your shop and that it’s being investigated as a homicide.”
    â€œHow do you know all that?” I said and sunk down on a chair myself.
    Because I heard the Buffalo County dispatcher call for the major crimes investigators to go to your shop address, over my police scanner. I got down there as soon as I could. The shop doors were locked, and I saw the coroner and the Buffalo County crime team there, a sure sign it was a homicide.
    â€œI was afraid you or Pinky had been robbed and killedon top of it all, but then I saw you through the window before they closed your blinds. Pinky’s were left open, and I was relieved to see Erin and Pinky were safe and sound, too.” Sandy admitted she had been one of the snoopers sitting in a vehicle outside. Not a bit surprising.
    â€œSandy, since the police won’t tell you anything, what makes you think I can?”
    She brushed at something on her notepad. “Cami, the police left your shop a couple of hours ago and said they’d be releasing a statement soon. Were they just