by CeeCee James
The Frosty Taste of Scandal
CeeCee James
Copyright © 2017 by CeeCee James
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For my Family-333 <3
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Blurb
Elise Pepper has had dates ruined by cold-hearted men before, but she’s never had one quite this cold. Cold, as in dead.
Instead of an evening of flirting and ice skating, Elise discovers the dead body of Mr. Hamilton, a mortgage broker with a reputation for shady deals…also known as the Ice-man. Apparently, the murderer had a sense of humor. Or irony.
When Elise’s co-worker Sue turns out to be related to the dead man, Elise knows she has to help find the murderer. Between a freak power outage will and a seemingly endless list of people who had good reason to want him dead, Elise has more leads than she can follow. Even the King and Queen of the high school Winter Ball are under suspicion!
With the killer hiding in plain sight, Elise can’t narrow down the suspects… this may be her first case where the killer gets away.
Chapter 1
It was seven o’clock on a cold December night, not a particularly interesting hour of the day. It was the time just after dinner, but before the snacks and prime time TV. Too late for most projects, but too early to go to bed.
Elise found herself staring down a man standing next to the ice-skate rental counter. The man appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties with a thin mustache—the type that enticed a giggle at first sight—and stringy brown hair brushed to the side. He was larger than average, both in height and weight, with a brown sweater vest stretched over a belly that more than one person would blame on alcohol indulgence.
He didn’t say anything, just continued to stare over the top of his glasses, soda in hand, while the teen behind the counter passed over the skates. His small brown eyes were clear as he glared at her.
Elise took the skates with great apprehension and thanked the teen. She glanced at the man again. What had she done to get on his bad side? She’d only asked the kid for a size seven.
She slipped her boots off and then handed them over, her first cute pair in two years. The last six months she’d been a receptionist at the StraightenUp Chiropractic Clinic, a job that actually paid more than minimum wage. She loved the work, and she loved finally having a little breathing room when it came to bill-paying time. Her new boots were topped with puffy fur, and they hugged her feet while still looking adorable.
Unlike these skates.
Elise turned the pair over in her hands. She walked to the nearest bench that looked as ancient as the skates. The paint was worn off on the seat from the thousands of people who’d sat there to lace their skates up. The skating rink was well over thirty years old. Elise imagined even her parents had been there a few times on a date.
A date. That’s what Elise was on. She sighed as she tightened the worn laces. Brad had texted just as she arrived to say that he would be late, and he was so sorry.
But he was on a case, and she understood.
Well, sort of.
She was still a little disappointed, in a petulant thirty-something-acting-like-a-teen-because-this-was-their-first-date-alone-in-two-months type of way. But still understanding.
The problem was that Elise hadn’t been out on the ice since she was a teenager. Since she and Lavina, her best friend, had ruled the ice together with all of their friends, screaming with laughter, cheesy music, and lots of flirting in the darker corners of the rink.
Now, twenty odd years later, it was safe to say she now looked at the ice with great misgivings. She hadn’t exactly grown more graceful through the years. She hoped it was like riding a bike, something you never forgot.
With a deep breath, she stood up on the skates and tottered to the ice. It was now or never. She pulled her gloves on and stepped out onto the ice.
It was just a fluke that her left foot headed to the right and the right to the left. At least, that’s what she told herself as she scrambled to reach for the wall.
A group of teens skated by, laughing. Elise was sure it was about her. If she was a teen, she’d laugh at the goofy old lady, too.
To add insult to injury, as she slowly looked around, she confirmed that she was the oldest person here.
Probably by double.
Elise cautiously let go of the wall and pushed herself forward. Left, Right. Left. Right. Her smile grew as she glided on the ice. But what fresh news was this? She suddenly couldn’t see. Her glasses were steaming up.
The glasses were a brand new prescription that had come days after her thirty-fifth birthday—hardly the gift she’d expected. Still, it was nice to be able to read road signs, as well as the menu at her favorite taco stand. She’d actually been there a little more often, as of late.
Her pants probably weren’t too happy about the change in her eyesight.
And neither would Lavina be when she saw her next. She’d been stressing ever since Elise had become engaged and kept pressuring her to make an appointment for a wedding dress fitting.
Not that Elise even cared about a dress. She’d already experienced the big wedding that ended with her ex committing adultery. No, she’d already been there, and done that. In fact, she’d be content to get married in the jeans she was wearing right now.
She skated past the opening to the space where the ice rink stored the Zamboni. The machine was tucked back in the shadows. Sitting up in the seat was a man. It looked like he was smiling, and she waved as she went by.
Elise wondered if he was getting ready to do some maintenance.
Her thoughts returned to her impending wedding. She may not want anything big and fancy, but if she didn’t cool it with the tacos, she wouldn’t even fit into her jeans. She’d be stuck wearing sweat pants for her wedding day.
I could always bedazzle them with the word ‘bride.’ Elise giggled to herself. She tugged off her glove and polished her glasses. Speaking of food, she was hungry. After two trips around, she was ready for a warm pretzel and mug of hot cocoa.
She scooted off the rink and found the snack shack. A bored attendant took her money. Elise thanked him and, wobbling on the skates, took her pretzel and cocoa to a table. She ate slowly as possible and then checked the time.
A groan escaped. She’d already been here over an hour. Brad was really late. He’d sent another text. —Be there soon. It’s no big deal. Someone’s cat stuck in a tree.
Don’t they normally call the fire department for that? Elise grumped. What’s a police officer going to do, arrest it?
She wobbled back out to the rink and started skating again. Better get used to it. He’s going to have this job for a long, long time. And I’m going to be his wife.
She smirked at the thought. It still seemed so surreal to her. A lot sure
could change in a year.
After a few more times around the rink, her ice skates smoothly slid across the ice, filling the air with a swooshing sound. She was getting it. It was like riding a bike.
She couldn’t help it, memories of watching professional ice-skaters flashed through her mind. Did she dare? Her ankles felt secure in the boots, and she had some confidence after saving her balance a few times. She pushed away from the wall. With her hands out, she tried to make a graceful loop.
And, just like that, the wobbles intensified. She swung her arms for balance. Boom! She hit the ice rink hard.
There was no thought of being embarrassed, despite the group of tweens that glided by in laughter. Exploding pain stole the center stage of her concentration. One of the kids, a red-head girl in a pink pom-pom hat, yelled, “Be careful! This isn’t for old people.”
Her tail bone screamed too loudly for her to even respond.
“Honey, are you okay?” Out of nowhere, Brad swooped up next to her in a shower of slivered ice. Oh sure, here I’ve been doing great for an hour, and the minute I fall, that’s when he arrives.
The dark-haired man squatted down next to her and balanced down on one knee. His hand reached to for her shoulder.
Elise’s eyes squinted shut as she held her breath. She was afraid to release it for fear of letting loose the piercing scream that was clawing up her throat.
After a few moments, the pain began to lessen. “I can’t believe you showed up in the nick of time to see me flop.” She gave him a quick glance, her eyelashes wet with tears. Lovely. They left wet mascara marks on her glasses.
“I was hoping to surprise you, but you did it to me instead. That stunt was pretty amazing. I’d give it a ten,” Brad said. He looped his hand under her arm and helped her up. She rose unsteadily. After she had her balance, he guided her over to the wall.
“I need a pillow,” she whimpered. “Tied to my rear.”
“I’ll bet you do,” he agreed. “That was some fall.”
As soon as she reached the wall, she grabbed it and hung on tight. All she could think about was getting those cursed skates off. Her smeared eye glasses must really be broken because the rink’s exit suddenly seemed miles away.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it back,” she mumbled.
“What’s going on?” Brad’s eyebrows raised in concern. “Did you hurt your ankle, or something?”
“No, just my tailbone.” She frowned as he chuckled. “Go ahead and laugh. I thought I had enough padding back there but I guess not.”
“Hmm,” he said, taking a look at her bruised half. He gave a greedy smile.
Despite herself, she laughed. She pushed him away, teasingly, and then pulled herself along the wall. Now that initial shock of pain was gone, she noticed one of her ankles was throbbing, too.
“Great. Just great,” she muttered, finally reaching the Zamboni opening again. She glanced inside, wondering if the guy was still in there. She’d probably given him a good show. He was probably laughing at her too.
Lovely. Yep. He was still there.
Elise gave the man a weak grin. The front of the machine reflected the overhead light back to her. The man had the same smile as before.
She looked closer.
The first vestiges of apprehension curled about in her chest. She noticed his sunglasses seemed slightly askew. And why was he wearing sunglasses indoors anyway?
His head seemed at an odd angle.
“Brad?” Elise grabbed for her fiancé’s arm.
“What?” He caught the look of alarm on her face. “What’s hurting now? You okay?”
She shook her head, breathing rapidly. Brad slowly followed her gaze.
“Uh—” he began.
She interrupted him. “He hasn’t moved since I last saw him. About thirty minutes ago.”
They stared into the garage shadows. The man stared back. His grin was unwavering. And chilling.
“You all right with me leaving you?” Brad asked her. When she nodded, he skated for the Zamboni. Elise followed, hand over hand, pulling herself down the wall.
Brad paused when he reached the side of the machine. He called up to the man. “You okay, buddy?”
The man didn’t move. As Elise got closer, she noticed his smile looked more like a grimace.
He is decidedly not okay, Elise thought.
Brad climbed up onto the foot rest and shook the man’s arm.
It wasn’t much of a shake, so it was a shock when the man slumped forward in the chair. Brad jerked in surprise, and then quickly felt for his pulse.
The scream that Elise had been holding in all this time erupted from behind her. Elise turned to look. It was the red-head girl in the pink pom-pom hat. The poor girl was shaking, her lips appearing like a red gash on her white face. Behind her gathered the rest of her friends, all wearing different expressions of shock.
Elise hesitated only a second before skating over to the girl.
“Are you okay? Here, sit down.” Elise helped the swaying girl down to the ice. It wasn’t ideal, but better than having her fall and split her head open. For a second, it was sketchy, and Elise wasn’t sure if she was going to get the girl down gracefully, or tumble on top of her, but after a bit of flailing, they both were stable on the ice.
Brad came skating out of the Zamboni garage, cell phone to his ear. “Dispatch, we have a 187.”
Elise’s ears perked up at the code. After being with him this last year, she’d learned to recognize some of the lingo.
187. It was the code for homicide.
Chapter 2
The date was a disaster.
Of course it was. Some poor soul was dead, teens were skating about in different states of histrionics, and Brad was in full police mode.
Elise couldn’t wait to leave the rink. After a crazy hour of the police interviews, yellow tape and the subsequent ambulance, the crowd of people rubbernecking at the removal of the body, and the noise and confusion, Elise was nearly jumping with joy to be freed to find her own car.
Her body felt drained from the adrenaline rush earlier. She started the Geo and jumped as the radio blared. She scrambled fast to turn it off. Finally, it was quiet.
Elise breathed in deep, eyes closed.
A tap on her glass both startled and annoyed her at the same time. It was Brad.
“You doing okay?” he asked, after she rolled the window down. His breath puffed in the cold air.
She nodded, and then gave the thumbs up when he didn’t look convinced.
“Okay. I’ll meet you at your house.” He left for his cruiser. The Geo’s engine lowered as the car finally warmed up. She headed out, with him following.
After ice skating tonight, they’d planned to try the new Italian restaurant in town, but now neither one of them felt like eating. Elise knew she’d probably regret skipping the meal later, but her stomach was still churning from the sight of the dead body.
She pulled into her driveway and eyed the front door. Waiting inside was Lucy, a hyper sixteen-year-old. Elise knew the girl was just waiting to pounce on her the moment she walked in the door. That girl could really talk a person’s ear off.
Elise adored Lucy but, at the moment, that was the last thing she wanted.
Brad pulled in and parked behind her. He must have understood her hesitance because the passenger door had opened and he was dropping into the seat next to her.
“Are you sure you’re doing okay?” he asked. Elise noticed his face looked worn and tired.
“I’m fine. What about you? You’ve had a long day,” she said.
He leaned over to rest his head on her shoulder. Slowly, they wiggled until they were able to hug each other. She stroked his back and then up into his hair.
“You’ve been working a lot lately,” she said. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to have out date.” Elise rested her cheek on the top of his head.
“I’m sorry I was late.” His breath was warm on her neck. She felt h
is weariness in the way he relaxed into her. “And it’s never good when a date ends with a dead body.”
She shook her head. “No. No it isn’t.” Her fingers massaged his neck while she thought. “How did you know it was murder, anyway?”
He pulled back with a sigh. “People don’t naturally die with pupils as large as his. And his neck was quite floppy. Did you notice that?”
Elise’s stomached leaped at the word ‘floppy’. She shook her head again.
“Yeah. And just a tiny bit of blood by his nose. Had his neck broken. There was a skate on the seat next to him. That’s my guess.”
“You’re kidding?” Elise asked. “An ice-skate?”
He rubbed his jaw where his stubble was prominent. “Pretty unusual, I’ll admit.”
“And who would want to kill the ice maintenance guy? That seems so bizarre.”
“Well, we can’t just assume things, no matter how they appear. We need a positive ID on the victim. That’s being worked on right now.”
Elise frowned. “You don’t think that’s who he is?”
“He had on a Rolex watch. That seems a little rich for working at the ice rink. His shoes looked like they were designer. The heel wasn’t worn, so they were new.”
“How is that a clue?”
“It indicates someone who cares about his appearance and has the money to replace things often.”
Elise’s head slumped back onto the seat. She stared at the house again.
This time, someone was staring back. Her cat, Max, had climbed onto the window sill and watched her curiously. He’d been so scrawny when she’d first found him, but now he’d filled out to an enormous sixteen pounds of fluffy orange.