Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,42

cheek and nestled her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I knew there was a reason I gave you that key last year and said come over whenever you want to use my gourmet kitchen.”

“If I didn’t use it, you’d have to knock the cobwebs out of the kettle just to boil water.”

“Hey, I cook, too.”

“When?”

She paused.

“See? You can’t even remember the last time you actually used this kitchen, can you?”

She grinned her concession. How on earth, after all she had been through these last couple of years, had she managed to get so lucky in finding Simon?

She remembered her feeling of despair when Marc abruptly left town and Serena, her go-to person, had her free time consumed by Zach. It was only natural that she and Simon gravitated toward each other. In the past, he’d been a good friend to her, and they had a lot of fun together. Being with him these last few months made her realize that Simon was the whole package. She eyed the feast of cut fruit and decadent melted chocolate, her mouth watering—for more than just the lake of chocolate. It was little things like this that he managed to pull off every day that reminded her how different he was from anyone else she dated previously. He didn’t just make her feel safe, he nurtured her, and made her feel more loved than she could ever have thought possible.

“I don’t know where to begin.” Her gaze landed on Simon’s lips.

“Here.” He handed her a small fondue fork and plate. “Just dig in.”

Addie stabbed her fork into a juicy chunk of pineapple.

A bang on the door caused them both to jump.

“I’ll get it.” Simon patted his chest as if he were having heart palpitations. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is, so we can gorge ourselves in peace on doctor-prescribed melted chocolate.”

She could hear him chuckling all the way to the front door. She dipped the pineapple chunk into the chocolate and popped it into her mouth, soon followed by a piece of strawberry and then a large section of orange. By the time Simon returned, her mouth was stuffed, and warm chocolate oozed from the corner of her lips. But when she looked at him, she swallowed hard. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She glanced over his shoulder, her chest tightening. “Marc? Jerry?” The two somber-faced officers entered the kitchen. “What brings you by?” Addie’s voice cracked. “Would you like some fondue?”

“They’re not here on a social visit.” Simon’s voice was barely audible.

She searched each of the men’s faces. Her heart tumbled to her toes.

Marc stepped forward. “Miss Greyborne, I need to inform you that I have a warrant for your arrest for suspicion of committing grand larceny.”

A cold hand squeezed Addie’s chest, and she couldn’t get enough air to speak. She saw more than heard his monotone voice droning on, fulfilling the requirements of his duties.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney . . .” The remainder of Marc’s words were lost in a blur as Jerry walked toward her, asked her to turn around, and snapped the cold steel handcuffs around her wrists.

Chapter 14

Addie shivered and clutched the rough wool blanket tighter around her shoulders and wiggled her frozen toes. Sandals were great summer footwear unless sitting in a police station’s basement interrogation room. She silently cursed the architect or engineer who had designed this small space with an air-conditioning vent that blasted cold air directly down from the ceiling. The desk sergeant, Carolyn, Simon’s sister and her friend, thankfully had provided Addie with this blanket or the rest of her would have been as numb as her toes were right now.

She cupped her icy hands together and blew into them, then stopped. She imagined she already looked a frightful sight, and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to show up in front of a judge with black smudges across her face.

After taking her fingerprints, Carolyn had offered her some wet wipes. Unfortunately, the booking process was run like a well-oiled machine, and Addie was asked to stand and have her mug shot taken almost immediately, giving her no time to remove the ink stains. As she examined her fingertips now, she wondered if the taint of the night would ever wash off her.

She puffed out a deep breath and studied her prison walls—at least that’s