Hunter’s abrupt departure on Saturday night.
“He’s devastated,” Madeline said, dabbing at her nose with the tissue. “And he’s worried about Barbara and what this is going to do to her. Bradley took care of everything. Barbara hardly had to lift a finger.”
Must be nice,
Gigi thought but then changed her mind. She much preferred being a capable woman and running her own business than being dependent on a man for everything.
“Hunter must have found his father rather . . . difficult . . . to get along with,” Gigi hazarded.
Madeline’s eyes widened. “Hunter adored his father. He would have done anything to please him.”
Except become a lawyer,
Gigi thought. It seemed as if Madeline was protesting just a little too much.
“When is the funeral?”
“I don’t know. Hunter is helping his mother with the arrangements right now.” She glanced at her watch. “They’re meeting with Father Stephens in half an hour over at St. Andrews Episcopal Church. They’ve been members since they moved here from the city when Hunter was a baby.”
“Is that where you’re being married?”
Madeline gave a loud sniff. “Yes. Although we’ve decided not to go through with a big wedding under the circumstances. Just a small reception with a few family and friends.”
Gigi nodded. She thought it was a shame that Madeline was going to be cheated out of a proper wedding—surely every girl’s dream. She thought back to her marriage to Ted. Perhaps she’d been too taken up with the excitement of the planning and should have paid more attention to his potential—or lack thereof—as a husband.
“Have the police told you anything?” Gigi said as delicately as someone putting a toe in frigid water. She hadn’t heard a peep out of Mertz and wondered what was going on.
Madeline shook her head, a sob turning into a hiccough. “They said”—she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Gigi—“that he was stabbed with an ice pick. I can’t get over it! Things like that aren’t supposed to happen in Woodstone.”
Chapter 6
Gigi’s mind was going as she left Simpson and West. Madeline had been quite determined to convince Gigi that Hunter and his father got along just fine. What Gigi had witnessed on Saturday night suggested something altogether different. Was Madeline afraid that Hunter might somehow be involved?
Walking briskly, Gigi headed toward where she’d parked the MINI. Reg was asleep on the package shelf above the backseat and jumped down when he heard her put her key in the lock. He took his accustomed spot in the front passenger seat, yawned widely and shook.
“A few more deliveries, and then we can go home,” Gigi reassured him as she pulled out onto High Street.
Gigi’s last delivery was to a new development on the edge of town. The builder had razed all of the trees and replaced them with enormous brick Georgian-style homes. A few anemic-looking maples had been planted in the front yards, and a fancy wrought-iron gate separated the exclusive enclave from the rest of the world. Gigi’s newest client, Penelope Lawson, had been referred by Madeline. Her husband, George, worked at Simpson and West and had just been promoted to a small office on the hallowed premises of the second floor.
Penelope came to the door in a pair of baggy sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt advertising a 5K race to raise money for the local animal shelter. Penelope wasn’t particularly overweight, but she was determined to lose the final ten pounds she’d gained after her last baby.
She took the container of food from Gigi and frowned. “Have you delivered Madeline’s yet? How is she holding up? George got a call last night from Mr. West. I can’t believe Bradley’s dead.”
“I guess Madeline is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Gigi said.
“I should probably give her a call.”
“I think she’d like that.”
Penelope shook her head. “It’s still so hard to believe. Mr.
“He’s devastated,” Madeline said, dabbing at her nose with the tissue. “And he’s worried about Barbara and what this is going to do to her. Bradley took care of everything. Barbara hardly had to lift a finger.”
Must be nice,
Gigi thought but then changed her mind. She much preferred being a capable woman and running her own business than being dependent on a man for everything.
“Hunter must have found his father rather . . . difficult . . . to get along with,” Gigi hazarded.
Madeline’s eyes widened. “Hunter adored his father. He would have done anything to please him.”
Except become a lawyer,
Gigi thought. It seemed as if Madeline was protesting just a little too much.
“When is the funeral?”
“I don’t know. Hunter is helping his mother with the arrangements right now.” She glanced at her watch. “They’re meeting with Father Stephens in half an hour over at St. Andrews Episcopal Church. They’ve been members since they moved here from the city when Hunter was a baby.”
“Is that where you’re being married?”
Madeline gave a loud sniff. “Yes. Although we’ve decided not to go through with a big wedding under the circumstances. Just a small reception with a few family and friends.”
Gigi nodded. She thought it was a shame that Madeline was going to be cheated out of a proper wedding—surely every girl’s dream. She thought back to her marriage to Ted. Perhaps she’d been too taken up with the excitement of the planning and should have paid more attention to his potential—or lack thereof—as a husband.
“Have the police told you anything?” Gigi said as delicately as someone putting a toe in frigid water. She hadn’t heard a peep out of Mertz and wondered what was going on.
Madeline shook her head, a sob turning into a hiccough. “They said”—she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Gigi—“that he was stabbed with an ice pick. I can’t get over it! Things like that aren’t supposed to happen in Woodstone.”
Chapter 6
Gigi’s mind was going as she left Simpson and West. Madeline had been quite determined to convince Gigi that Hunter and his father got along just fine. What Gigi had witnessed on Saturday night suggested something altogether different. Was Madeline afraid that Hunter might somehow be involved?
Walking briskly, Gigi headed toward where she’d parked the MINI. Reg was asleep on the package shelf above the backseat and jumped down when he heard her put her key in the lock. He took his accustomed spot in the front passenger seat, yawned widely and shook.
“A few more deliveries, and then we can go home,” Gigi reassured him as she pulled out onto High Street.
Gigi’s last delivery was to a new development on the edge of town. The builder had razed all of the trees and replaced them with enormous brick Georgian-style homes. A few anemic-looking maples had been planted in the front yards, and a fancy wrought-iron gate separated the exclusive enclave from the rest of the world. Gigi’s newest client, Penelope Lawson, had been referred by Madeline. Her husband, George, worked at Simpson and West and had just been promoted to a small office on the hallowed premises of the second floor.
Penelope came to the door in a pair of baggy sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt advertising a 5K race to raise money for the local animal shelter. Penelope wasn’t particularly overweight, but she was determined to lose the final ten pounds she’d gained after her last baby.
She took the container of food from Gigi and frowned. “Have you delivered Madeline’s yet? How is she holding up? George got a call last night from Mr. West. I can’t believe Bradley’s dead.”
“I guess Madeline is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Gigi said.
“I should probably give her a call.”
“I think she’d like that.”
Penelope shook her head. “It’s still so hard to believe. Mr.
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