Ice Cold Murder by Kate Bell

Author:Kate Bell [Bell, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

--12--

“I’m tired. I need more sleep,” I said as Alec put a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. “But thanks for making breakfast.”

“You need to run more. That will do give you more energy,” he replied, sitting across from me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you serious? I’m running fifty miles a week.”

“Ah. Well, I guess it’s something else,” he said. A small smile played on his lips.

“You know, you’re not as serious as I thought you were when we first met,” I said, and took a drink of my coffee.

He chuckled. “I’ve changed? Well, I’d be boring if I were as serious as you first thought.”

“Have you heard anything new about Iris’s murder?” I asked.

“Her neck was broken,” he said, taking a bite of eggs.

“Really? So it could have been an accident?” I asked, and then realized that was probably dumb.

“Well, it could be except that she didn’t bury herself,” he said.

“What if she slipped and fell out there and broke her neck and the snow covered her body?” I asked. I just wanted to cover all the angles.

“Possible, but not probable. It was too cold to be out there on foot,” he answered.

“She could have been out there, going for a walk,” I pointed out. “Maybe she spent a lot of time out in the woods, and was used to the cold. Therefore, she wouldn’t need heavier shoes and clothes.”

“But neither her husband nor her mother mentioned it, therefore you’re just being silly.”

“And there wasn’t a car,” I said.

“Right.”

I sighed. “I’m too tired this morning to figure out what happened to her. My brain isn’t working.”

“I’m not going to touch that one,” he said wisely.

“Well,” I began, not looking at him. “I did learn something.”

“Uh oh. What might that be?” he asked suspiciously.

I looked him in the eye. “I’m helping you, whether you like it or not, so you may as well be happy about it.”

He chuckled again. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You’re helping me whether I like it or not.”

I decided to ignore that comment. “It seems Hilda had a drinking problem in her younger years and she is never going to be voted mother of the year.”

“Well, that would apply to many mothers, and fathers as well. But I’m assuming, since she was living in the apartment over Iris’s garage, that they mended their past.”

“That’s what Hilda says. But Mr. Winters said that Hilda said she wished Iris was never born and that she voluntarily gave up custody, only to take it back about five years later,” I said.

“Wait, that’s what Hilda said? You went to talk to Hilda after we talked to her the first time?” he asked, fork poised mid-air.

I had hoped he would miss that part, but he was, after all, an ace detective. “I brought her a pie. Food always makes the hurt easier to bear.”

“Listen, Allie, I appreciate the help. Sometimes. But I really don’t think you should go to a possible suspect’s house and interview them by yourself.

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