A Christmas to Die For by Marta Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

lights anytime soon." It took an effort to speak lightly.
    "Or ever." He was still frowning, the cord stretched taut between his hands. "That's a lot of bare wire."
    She shrugged, trying to push away the creeping sensation on the back of her neck. "All's well that ends well. I'm relatively unscathed, and I'd better get back to work."
    "Sit still." He softened the command with a half smile. "Sorry, but you look washed out."
    "Gee, thanks."
    Now he grinned, his face relaxing. "Just let me see if this blew a fuse before you do anything else."
    She hadn't even thought of that, so she leaned back against the step, watching him test the heavy-duty extension cord on a fresh strip of lights.
    "Looks okay. Actually that's surprising. Usually the wiring in these old places isn't in great shape."
    "You should see the maze of wires in the cellar. It's an electrician's nightmare, but it all seems to work. We did have to have the wiring checked out before we could open the inn, of course."
    He gazed up at the house. "It's early eighteenth century, isn't it?"
    "I guess an architect would know. The oldest part dates to 1725, according to the records."
    "It's been in your family ever since?"
    "Pretty much. My maternal grandfather's family, the Ungers, that is."
    He was probably making conversation to distract her from the fact that he was going over each strand of lights in the box, checking all of them methodically with eyes and hands.
    Well, she wouldn't object to that. She was happy enough just to sit here, feeling the sun's warmth chase the winter chill away.
    "Satisfied?" she asked when he'd put gone through every one.
    "They're in better shape than I expected." He frowned a little. "You'd think if one was that bad, some of the others would show similar signs."
    "Maybe a squirrel tried to make a meal of it, didn't like the taste, and left the rest alone."
    "Could be." He picked up a strand of lights and mounted the stepladder.
    "What are you doing?" She stood, fighting a wave of dizziness at the sudden movement. "I'll take care of that."
    "I've got it."
    She'd keep arguing, but he really was getting the job accomplished more easily than she could, given his height. She watched, liking the neat efficiency of his movements, the capability of his strong hands. She was used to doing for herself, and in the months of running the inn she'd learned how to do all kinds of things she'd never dreamed of before, but it was nice to have some help.
    She couldn't rely on him. Not Tyler, of all people, given what brought him here. That galvanized her, and she went quickly to the stepladder.
    "I'm sure you have work of your own to do." Such as investigating his grandfather's death.
    "This is the least I can do, since your grandmother offered your cooperation in dealing with my problem."
    "That's not exactly what she said."
    He smiled faintly but continued to thread the cord through the hooks.
    And if she did help him, what then? She was as convinced as Grams that Grandfather hadn't done anything wrong.
    She watched Tyler, frowning a little, trying to pinpoint the cause of her uneasiness. No matter how irrational it was, she couldn't help feeling that Tyler's determination to look into his grandfather's death was similar to poking a stick into a hornet's nest.

    * * *
    Rachel searched through the changes she was attempting to make to the inn's Web site. Did she have everything right? Andrea could probably have done this in half an hour, but she'd been working for what seemed like hours.
    She glanced at the ornate German mantel clock that stood on one side of her grandfather's portrait above the fireplace. Nearly ten. It had been hours. Grams had gone up to bed some time ago, but Barney still dozed on the hearth rug, keeping her company.
    She smiled at the sheltie, and he lifted his head and looked at her as if he'd sensed her movement. "Just a little longer, Barney. I'm almost finished."
    He put his head back on his front paws, as if he'd understood every