Steamed to Death by Peg Cochran Read Free Book Online Page B

Mrs. Winchel . . .” He hesitated, seeing the expression on Gigi’s face. “I suppose I ought to call her Miss Davenport to avoid confusion.”
    Gigi managed to hide her smile. “That’s a good idea.”
    “Had any of the dinner guests already arrived,” he continued, “when Miss Davenport went up to take her sauna?”
    “No.” Gigi grabbed the sponge from the sink and began wiping down the kitchen island, catching the crumbs in the palm of her hand. She couldn’t stand being idle, and she couldn’t stand mess.
    “Who was in the house?”
    Gigi wondered what all these questions were leading up to, but she knew better than to ask. She rinsed out the sponge and began wiping down the front of the refrigerator. “Let me think.” Everything had gone blurry in her mind, and she had to concentrate to recall the events of the afternoon. “Mr. Winchel was here. Anja was here, but then she went out to get something.” Gigi stopped with her sponge halfway down the front of the fridge. “Actually Anja went out before Felicity went into the sauna. But Derek was here. I’m honestly not sure about Alex Goulet, but Vanessa and Don Bartholomew were definitely here.”
    Mertz jotted some things in his notebook, his dark brows drawn together in concentration. He glanced up with an almost apologetic look on his face. “And when did you arrive?” He looked down again quickly as if to avoid Gigi’s eyes.
    “I got here yesterday. I’m staying here. I had a . . . a plumbing problem at home and couldn’t use my kitchen. Felicity kindly suggested I come here.”
    Mertz nodded and continued with his note taking, his head bent over his notebook. Gigi thought she heard him sigh as if to say Crisis averted . She no longer blamed him for suspecting her in the death of her client, but she suspected he was still blaming himself.
    Mertz glanced up, his brows still furrowed together, a solicitous look on his face. He put a hand on Gigi’s arm. “Are you okay? This can’t be easy for you.”
    His sudden concern brought tears to Gigi’s eyes.
    “Sure. I’m fine.” She bent her head quickly and went back to her cleaning. She took a last swipe at the side of the refrigerator and worked up the nerve to ask the question that had been dancing around the fringes of her thoughts the whole time.
    “But wasn’t it an accident?”
    Mertz’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “We have reason to believe it was anything but.”
    • • •
    Gigi was in the kitchen late the next morning when the back door opened. Anja backed into the room, attempting to subdue her umbrella, which the wind was toying with, trying to turn it inside out. Gigi shivered as a blast of cold, wet air blew across the room.
    Anja finally managed to close her umbrella. She gave it a final shake out the door before propping it in the corner. “It is raining—how do you say it?—cats and dogs out there.”
    Anja’s nose was bright red, and Gigi noticed that her eyes were as well. Was it the wind and the cold, or had she been crying?
    Anja turned her back on Gigi, and Gigi thought she heard her give a loud sniff.
    “Is everything okay?” Gigi asked tentatively. Anja was clearly a private person, and Gigi didn’t want to intrude.
    Anja turned around, and Gigi noticed she was dabbing at her eyes with a damp tissue. Anja’s mouth worked for several seconds before she found her voice. “People in the town are . . . talking.”
    “Talking?”
    Anja nodded her head vigorously. “They are all talking about Madam’s death.”
    Gigi put a hand on Anja’s arm. “It’s natural they would be. I’m sure she was very well liked in Woodstone.”
    “No, no, you do not understand.” Anja twisted the shred of tissue between her fingers and bit her lip. “They are all saying that she committed suicide.”
    “Suicide!” Gigi grabbed the kettle from the stove and began to fill it. She would make Anja some tea. The woman was shaking like a leaf. “That