Black Widow by Jennifer Estep Read Free Book Online Page B

Silver cuffs adorned her wrists, and a black leather collar studded with silver hearts circled her neck, completing her chic Goth look.
    At the sight of me mopping the floor, Sophia stopped and eyed the pink water sloshing around in my bucket.
    â€œProblem?” she rasped in her low, eerie, broken voice.
    I shrugged. “Not anymore. She’s in the freezer with the peas.”
    Sophia nodded, knowing exactly what I was talking about. After she got rid of the body, I’d have to defrost the freezer and scrub all of the bloodstains and smears out of it, as well as order some more frozen peas. I sighed. Sometimes, killing people just wasn’t worth cleaning up the mess afterward.
    While I finished mopping, Sophia started cooking, and we opened up the restaurant. Catalina Vasquez came in to wait tables and help with the lunch rush, followed by her uncle.
    Silvio Sanchez was a short, lean, quiet man who tended to blend into the background with his subdued gray suits and ties. Unlike Jonah McAllister, Silvio’s silvery hair was cut short and neatly brushed, and he didn’t try to erase the faint lines that had grooved into his middle-aged bronze skin. I thought that the vampire was still a bit too thin, given how much of his blood and emotions Beauregard Benson had drained out of him a few weeks ago, but so far Silvio was resisting all of my attempts to fatten him up with the Pork Pit’s home cooking.
    As was his custom now, Silvio perched on a stool three spots down from the cash register, opened his silverstonebriefcase, and pulled out his cell phone and tablet. He was always texting, typing, and making notes about something, although I couldn’t imagine what he found so interesting about the comings and goings at the restaurant to so thoroughly record them all daily.
    â€œHello, Gin. I’m here for the morning briefing,” Silvio said, swiping through several screens on his tablet.
    I bent down and grabbed a dish towel from a slot under the counter so he wouldn’t hear me sigh. I didn’t think that my life was busy or complicated enough for a morning briefing, much less the afternoon briefings that Silvio had been making noises about adding to our so-called schedule , but I perched on my stool and listened as he told me about all the various information he’d gleaned from his contacts. Who was looking to expand into running drugs, guns, and other illegal products; who was trying to muscle in on a rival’s territory; who had threatened to kill the competition in retaliation for some perceived slight.
    When he finished, I shared the information I’d overheard in the woods yesterday about the name Dobson and the party Madeline was throwing.
    â€œSee what you can find out about it please,” I said. “Especially when it is and who’s been invited. I want to know if it’s another flower-themed tea for the society ladies or something more important.”
    He gave me a sharp look. “And where did this information come from? I haven’t heard a peep about Madeline hosting or attending any kind of party, not counting that library dedication later today.”
    I waved my hand. “Oh, a little bird told me.”
    Silvio frowned, his gray eyes narrowing in accusation.“You haven’t taken it upon yourself to spy on Madeline, have you? Because that would be a very foolish thing to do, Gin, directional microphone or not. I believe we addressed this during last Friday’s morning briefing.”
    He might have found that microphone for me, but he’d also realized exactly what I wanted it for. Last Friday before the restaurant opened, Silvio had made me turn off the lights so he could set up a projector and give me a presentation, listing bullet point by bloody bullet point all the ways I could get captured and killed if Madeline caught me spying on her.
    I’d smiled and nodded through the whole thing, but I hadn’t told him about my