Iced to Death (23 page)

As soon as Barbara was taken away, Gigi began to shake. Mertz held her and rocked her until her teeth finally stopped chattering. Various aches and pains were setting in, thanks to her swan dive onto the stone floor. Her first order of business when she got home was going to be a hot bath perfumed with at least half a bottle of her favorite lavender bubble bath. And she wasn’t getting out until there was no more hot water left.

Mertz insisted she wait until the shaking had completely stopped. He put a finger under her chin and tipped her head up. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Gigi nodded mutely.

“I can have one of my men drive you home.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m okay.”

“Let me see. Put out your hand.”

Gigi held out her hand and was relieved to see that it was steady.

“If you’re sure . . .”

Gigi smiled. “I am. I just need to get into a hot bath, and I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll stop by later to check on you.” Mertz scowled. “I can’t leave the scene right now.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Gigi’s first thought as she neared her cottage was whether or not Pia would be home. Her second thought was whether or not Bob’s reindeer was still prancing around on her front lawn. Gigi sincerely hoped not.

Instinct made her want to close her eyes as she approached her driveway, but Reg gave her a concerned look so she kept them open.

“What are we going to find, boy?” She turned to him briefly and ran a hand over the top of his head.

Pia’s rattletrap van was parked front and center so Pia was obviously home. Gigi sighed as she pulled in behind it. A quick glance at the lawn revealed that it was denuded of the lawn sculpture. Yay! She was one for one at least.

Gigi dragged herself up the two steps to the kitchen door and pushed it open. The kitchen was empty, although a package of cookies stood ripped open on the counter with a carton of milk sitting out next to it.

Reg made a beeline for the living room, and Gigi reluctantly followed. Pia was sprawled on the sofa, staring at the picture on the television with the sound off. Crumbs littered the front of her sweater, and there was an empty glass next to her on the floor. She grunted when Gigi said hello.

Gigi perched on the armchair opposite. “Is something wrong?” she asked even though she already suspected she knew the answer.

Pia groaned and rolled on her side, dislodging the cookie crumbs and sending them showering to the floor. “I had a call from Peter Werks. He’s the guy who was opening that new gourmet shop in town. He’s decided against Woodstone. They’re going to build in Greenwich instead.” Pia’s lower lip trembled.

“Won’t he be able to use your mural there?” Gigi asked hopefully.

Pia rolled her head back and forth. “No, the dimensions are different. He said it wouldn’t work. He’s letting me keep the deposit, but he’s not paying the rest.”

“Didn’t you have some sort of contract with him?”

Pia flipped her head back and forth again. “No, it was a gentleman’s agreement. Although some gentleman he’s turned out to be.” She turned her head and buried her face in the pillow.

“Maybe someone else will buy it?” Gigi’s mind was half on the conversation, half occupied with wondering how long before she got her bath. She could feel her bruised muscles stiffening inch by painful inch.

“It’s too big to go anywhere else. Who would have a wall that large?”

“Another store maybe?”

Pia snorted. “I can’t see the Shop and Save being interested, or Abigail’s or the Silver Lining.”

Gigi felt bubbles of excitement stir in her stomach. “Maybe not, but what about Bon Appétit? Evelyn is redoing the shop in a sort of country French style. Your mural would be perfect.”

Pia lifted her head from the cushions. “Do you think so?” Even she sounded slightly excited.

“I can ask her. Personally, I think it would be perfect with the changes she’s already made.”

Pia sat up abruptly. “Would you ask her? I won’t charge her anything near what I was asking Peter Werks.”

“I’ll call her on Monday. It’s too late now. Besides, if I don’t get into a nice hot bath, I’m going to stiffen up like the Tin Man in
The Wizard of Oz
.”

Pia gave Gigi a quizzical look.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” she said as she headed toward the bathroom.

“Are you hungry?” Pia called after her. “I can throw together some vegetable soup. I picked up a crusty loaf of bread on my way home.”

“Sounds great,” Gigi said.

Would wonders never cease?

• • •

Gigi woke up on Sunday morning and stretched luxuriously. She didn’t deliver food to her clients on Sundays, so there was nothing she absolutely had to do for the entire day. The idea was intoxicating.

Mertz called early to ask if he could bring over some bagels and croissants for breakfast. Gigi took a quick shower, pinned her damp, curling hair up on top of her head and donned her best pair of jeans and the sweater that brought out the color of her eyes. She had brewed coffee, set out a pitcher of orange juice and grilled some bacon by the time Mertz got there.

Reg jumped all over him trying to get his attention, but Mertz had eyes only for Gigi. He gathered her in his arms and stood with his head resting on top of hers.

“I spent a terrible night last night thinking about what might have happened if I hadn’t gotten your message in time. That woman was determined to shoot you.”

“And she almost got away with it,” Gigi murmured against Mertz’s chest. His coat felt rough against her cheek. “If it hadn’t been for Reg disarming her, I would have been in big trouble.”

“Good boy!” Mertz said, glancing at Reg, who sat patiently next to them waiting for his fair share of attention. Mertz waved the white paper bakery bag he had in one hand. “I’ve got some good things for us to eat.”

Gigi pulled away. “And I’ve got coffee and bacon going. We just have to pour the orange juice.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Mertz followed Gigi out to the kitchen, where she’d set out woven mats, linen napkins and silverware on her small kitchen table.

The door to Pia’s room was still shut, and Gigi imagined she would be sleeping in. She’d heard the television going until quite late last night.

Mertz put his napkin in his lap and helped himself to some of the bacon on the platter. “I’m still amazed that you made the connection between Barbara Simpson and the murders,” he said as he spread cream cheese on his poppy seed bagel.

“I didn’t at first,” Gigi admitted as she stirred her coffee. “She’d managed to convince me she was really sick at Hunter’s party. Apparently I was the only one who was fooled—the others all thought she’d had a little too much to drink, which was what she wanted them to think—that she’d had a relapse.”

“And that she was tucked up in bed at home when the murder occurred. Guardian confirmed that she turned off the alarm to enter the house long before Bradley was killed.”

“And everyone assumed she was too inebriated to go out again.” Gigi took a bite of her buttered croissant and chewed thoughtfully. “She’d stolen Bradley’s cell phone earlier in the evening—I remember his complaining that he couldn’t find it when he wanted to call a taxi for Barbara. Barbara, meanwhile, planned to use it to text Tiffany to get her back to the scene.”

“And hopefully make her the scapegoat. Barbara had a lot of nerve; I’ll have to say that for her.” Mertz washed down a bite of bagel with a gulp of coffee. “She used that shawl thingy of hers to cover up her clothes when she committed the murder, having already established that it was missing. She could have thrown it away or burned it, but instead she brought it back to the scene, making it look as if she was being framed.” He shook his head. “That was almost a little too clever.”

Gigi nodded. “It was good luck for her that Declan was heard arguing with Bradley that night. It gave him motive as well as means.” Gigi was quiet for a moment. “I couldn’t bear the thought of it being Declan. It would have broken my sister’s heart.” She nibbled on some crumbs from her croissant. “I’m still worried about her. Declan’s made it clear he isn’t interested in anything long term.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

They both jumped as Pia’s voice came from the doorway.

“Declan and I had a long talk, and he made it clear he wasn’t interested in me. No hard feelings though.” Pia smiled. “He’s commissioned me to do a mural to put behind his bar. He stopped by that day”—she leveled a glance at Gigi—“the day you also showed up, to see my work. He liked it, and I’m going to start on something for him next week.”

“Oh,” Gigi said in a tiny voice.

“I knew what you were thinking.” Pia grabbed one of the croissants and leveled it at Gigi. “But I was annoyed with you so I decided it would serve you right to let you think the worst for a little longer.”

“Oh,” Gigi said again while Mertz turned to glance out the window, an amused look on his face.

“I’m heading to the studio so I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” Pia grabbed a piece of bacon from the platter and started toward the back door.

Gigi felt her face get red, and when she looked at Mertz, she could see his was doing the same.

“Barbara insisted she and Bradley were once lovebirds, too,” Gigi said. “But then he became more distant and ultimately abusive until she felt the only way out was to kill him.”

“She wanted his money, too,” Mertz pointed out. “That was her ultimate revenge—spending Bradley’s fortune and enjoying her life while he was dead in his grave.”

Gigi shivered. “I just can’t imagine it. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Murder never does.” Mertz had the last sip of his coffee. “I hope you noticed that Rudolph is no longer gracing your front yard.”

“I certainly did.”

“I have to apologize because I know you’d become quite fond of him.”

Gigi was about to open her mouth to protest when she realized he was kidding. “Was it Jimmy?”

“Yes and no.”

Gigi gave Mertz a confused look.

“It was a young man named Jimmy but not the Jimmy who is Barbara Simpson’s brother.”

“Really?”

Mertz helped himself to another bagel. “It seems young Jimmy is a freshman at Woodstone High School. According to his mother, he suffers from something called OCD, or obsessive-compulsive disorder. He is supposed to take medication but doesn’t always comply. He recently became obsessed with lawn ornaments and started stealing them and hoarding them in the family garage. His mother didn’t know what to do—she made him take that frog and violin piece to the junkyard, others she’s taken to consignment shops in other towns. She was afraid that if anyone found out, Jimmy would go to jail.”

“Will he?”

“No, I doubt it. It’s out of my hands, but I suspect the court will recommend further psychiatric treatment and insist he stick to his medication regimen.”

Mertz stood up and began gathering the dirty dishes. Gigi threw the empty bakery bag in the garbage can and wiped down the kitchen table.

Dishes done, Mertz put his arm around Gigi. “What do you say we adjourn to the living room sofa?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

• • •

The snow had melted and the sun was out the day of Bon Appétit’s grand reopening. It was also the launch party for Branston Foods’ new line of Gourmet De-Lite dinners.

Gigi chose her outfit with care. Reg watched from the bed as she pulled various garments from the closet. The look on his face clearly registered his approval or disapproval. Gigi tried to ignore him as she went through her clothes.

In the end she chose a wool sweater dress in a soft sage green that was nipped in at the waist with a wide, brown suede belt. She had a pair of matching brown suede boots that would go perfectly with it. She spent some time washing and styling her hair into soft waves that framed her heart-shaped face. She didn’t usually wear much makeup but she added a little eye shadow and mascara to her everyday routine and finished it off with a slick of peach lip gloss. When she stood back from the mirror to admire the effect, even she had to admit that she looked pretty good.

The glance Mertz gave her when he picked her up confirmed that she was definitely at her best. His hands lingered on her shoulders as he helped her into her coat, and standing behind her, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Gigi sighed with satisfaction and snuggled against him briefly. Her life had truly taken a turn for the better.

Mertz had recently acquired a new car and he ushered Gigi into the front seat with a flourish. She pulled the seat belt around her and settled back into the comfy seat.

“This is quite a big day for you,” Mertz said as he got behind the wheel. He glanced at Gigi quickly, giving her a big smile.

“Yes, I guess it is.”

“You look gorgeous.” Mertz leaned over and brushed Gigi’s lips with his.

The contact sent a zing through her that set fire to her confidence. She raised her chin a bit higher. “I think everything is going to turn out okay.”