Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

illuminated it brighter than it should have been for that time of evening during winter, at least as far as I was concerned. There was an old Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway, but I wasn’t even sure it still ran based on its outward appearance. I could see several weeds poking out of the flower beds in front, the annuals that had been killed by the first frost serving as dreary reminders that spring was still a lifetime away.
    “She’s not even out here waiting for us,” I said. “She does know we’re coming, right?”
    “What do you want, a sign and a handful of balloons?” Annie asked me brightly.
    “Fine. Let’s go knock on the front door.”
    “Should we grab our bags first?” Annie asked me.
    “Why don’t we wait and see how it goes?” I suggested.
    “Pat, we’re staying here with her. I’ve already worked that out.”
    “Are you sure she has the room?” I asked, looking around the small space. “She wants us to stay with her, right?”
    “Why wouldn’t she? After all, we’re both quite charming. I happen to come by it naturally, but with you it takes a little effort.”
    “But worth it all the same, right?” I asked her. My sister’s good humor was infectious. If she didn’t hold a grudge over what had happened so long ago, then how could I? I resolved to stop paying lip service to my promise to behave and actually try to mean it. I’d had a friend once who believed in faking it until you made it, and he’d managed to get ahead with an extraordinarily short supply of talent, but it had taken a great deal of audacity to overcome its absence.
    “Let’s go say hi,” Annie said, and I followed her to the door.
    When we got there, my sister didn’t knock at first.
    “Any time is fine with me,” I said after a few moments of delay.
    “Aren’t you the least bit curious about what we’re going to find on the other side of that door?” Annie asked me.
    “I don’t have to be. In twenty seconds, we’re going to find out for ourselves.”
    “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Annie replied. It was uncharacteristic for her to be nervous about anything. I looked over to see that she was physically shaking.
    “Sis, no matter how this turns out, we’ve got each other, and Kathleen, too. Remember that and you’ll be fine.”
    “Okay,” she said, taking a deep gulp of breath, letting it out slowly, and then reaching out and rapping at the door.
    An older woman who looked remarkably like my late mother threw the door open and embraced us both at the same time. It was clear that she’d been crying just before we’d arrived. Was everyone getting overly emotional about this little reunion but me?
    “Pat, Annie, it’s awful, but I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.
    “What’s going on, Della?” I asked her. “Has something happened?”
    “It’s Cheryl Simmons. She’s dead. Someone must have thought she was me, and they killed her.”

Chapter 4: Pat (continued)
    “H ang on. Slow down and back up a little bit,” I said. “Start at the beginning.”
    Instead of explaining, Della began crying again in full force. “I’m starting to realize that I should never have brought you both here. It’s not safe for you to be in Gateway Lake. I’ve risked your lives for mine, something my sister never would have forgiven me for.”
    “May we discuss this inside?” I asked, looking around to see a few neighbors peering out their windows, watching us all intently.
    “Of course,” she said. “It’s just so awful, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
    We walked into a space that I wasn’t expecting. Instead of doilies and old wallpaper, the interior was sleek and modern, though compact. Stainless steel was everywhere, and the light fixtures had a decidedly industrial tone to them. The furniture was ultramodern as well, and I hoped she had bed space for us both; the couch looked like a ready-made back killer.
    “May I get you something?” Annie