Creamsicle Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 11 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) by Carol Durand, Summer Prescott Read Free Book Online

knew she was headed to jail, Chas, if he was still
alive, probably didn’t care, and Cheryl and Ben would be contacted by Echo in
the morning. Ivana Cherie wouldn’t be getting her trio of cupcakes in the morning,
and it was just as well. Missy couldn’t stomach the thought of the vile
murderess, much less the sight of her. She knew in her bones that the diva had
killed Ian, and stabbed Chas just so that she could blame it on Missy, but
because of her stardom and put-upon air of innocence, everyone believed the
actress’s story, even those who had been in a position to know better.
    Tears
stung her eyelids as she thought of Chas – his smile, his sincere blue eyes,
his quick wit. She had missed him so much the past few weeks, but it had been
prudent to avoid him so that she could do some investigating of her own, and
now none of it mattered. She hoped that he recovered and had a good life, even
after Ivana was tired of toying with him, but she grieved for the love that she
had lost. It was ironic really, just when they’d become comfortable in their
feelings for one another, fate had ripped them apart.
    At
some point, in the wee hours of the morning, Missy must’ve drifted off to
sleep, scared and alone. She woke with a start as a nightstick clanged against
the bars of her cell.
    “Gladstone!”
a policewoman called out, sounding bored. “Visitor,” she announced when Missy
raised her head slowly.
    A
pale, thin man who looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, with longish hair and
a chin beard, stood nervously on the other side of the bars, and after
emphasizing the rules for interaction, the policewoman left him alone, shifting
from foot to foot.
    “Uh,
hi, Miss Gladstone,” the young man said, looking all around. He’d either never
been inside a jail before, or perhaps had a really bad experience in one, he
was clearly uncomfortable. When Missy merely stared at him blankly, he
continued. “I’m, uh, Sebastian Nickles. I’m the props assistant for Whispers
of Blood, and I…” he broke off when Missy stood suddenly and approached the
bars, standing a few feet away, as though he might bite. “Uh, anyway, I never
met you before, and I know that everyone is saying that you killed Ian, but
um…I just wanted to say that I don’t think that you did,” he finished
awkwardly.
    “What
makes you think that?” Missy asked warily in a faint voice.
    “Because,
I, uh, I think I know who did it,” Sebastian glanced about as though fearful of
being overheard.
    Missy’s
eyes widened, her thoughts clearing for the first time since she’d heard that
Chas had been in an accident. She moved to the bars and gripped them so hard
that her knuckles turned white. “Who?” she whispered.
    “So,
you know the night before Ian was murdered? Well, I was the one who was
responsible for all the props, and I watched over them almost the entire time.
We do that specifically so that accidents like this don’t happen,” he
explained, his eyes darting back and forth between Missy and the door.
    “What
do you mean that you were there almost the entire time?” Missy asked, her voice
scratchy with thirst.
    “The
Props Master was gone, looking for a saddle for like, the entire day, so I
didn’t have any breaks or food or anything, so Ian came by and asked if
anything, but I said no. He talked a little bit about you, he had a major crush
on you,” the young man blushed a little. “He said that you had just left, and
that he had been hoping that you could stay for the big shoot-out scene that
was coming up.”
    Ian’s
crush was news to Missy, she thought that he was just being nice to her.
    “So
then Ian went to get some dinner before his big scene, and I was standing
there, like, dying of hunger, and Buckman, the director, walks in,” Sebastian
continued, speaking quickly.
    “Was
that unusual?” Missy was slowly returning to normal levels of interaction, her
analytical brain coming back online.
    “For
him to come in? Yeah,