Cold Death by Mary Stone (best e reader for android TXT) 📕

Jillian make you eat Kibbles ‘n Bits while she feasted on lobster and steak on your date night?”

“Please! That dog probably ate more of my dinner than I did. We saved the Kibble ‘n Bits for you.” Jillian popped around the corner, already dressed for bed in a pair of pajamas covered in grinning sushi rolls. “Also, hi, honey. How was your trip?”

Ellie dropped the laptop bag to the floor and arched her tight back, letting the warmth of the familiar surroundings and her best friend’s smile wash over her and ease some of the day’s tension away. “Longer than expected. I think I spent more time in the car than I did anywhere else.”

Jillian pulled a sympathetic face and tucked a loose blonde strand behind her ear. “Sorry, those are the worst kind of road trips. Want something to drink? I’ve got a kettle on.”

“Herbal tea sounds great, please.” Ellie trailed Jillian into the kitchen, ignoring the stools to lean against the granite countertop. She’d had more than enough sitting over the past twenty-four hours. “Any updates yet?”

Jillian shook her head as she grabbed the kettle off the stove and poured water into a Sherlock Holmes mug. “Not really. Everyone’s still out searching high and low for Bethany, but there hasn’t been any sign of her yet.”

Not good, in terms of Bethany’s chances. Every passing hour in a kidnapping case reduced the probability that a child would be recovered alive. If she gave Charli Cross a call, the Savannah detective could undoubtedly rattle off the likelihood of finding Bethany in time within two seconds flat. Tempting, if Ellie wanted to sink into a pit of despair.

So maybe not.

Jillian set the mug on the counter. Ellie warmed her hands around the porcelain and blew on the fragrant, citrusy steam while Jillian returned to the sink.

She turned on the faucet, splashing water over the plates. “I’m just washing up from dinner. Did you eat yet? I made a pasta salad. Leftovers are in the fridge.”

Despite the worry squeezing her temples, Ellie’s gaze softened on her roommate’s back. Jillian was always fussing over Ellie and feeding her. “Thanks, I had a burrito.” No sense kicking those mother hen instincts into overdrive by telling her it was a breakfast burrito purchased from a drive-through over twelve hours ago.

Once Jillian loaded the dishwasher, she dried her hands on a sunny yellow towel and joined Ellie at the counter, stifling a yawn. “I printed all that stuff out that you asked for about Kingsley and the Far Ridge Boy’s Academy, and whatever I could find on those student deaths. Oh, and I went ahead and reprinted your case file, on the chance it might come in handy.”

Ellie finished a sip of tea and pushed the mug aside, overwhelmed by a cascade of emotion. “What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Spend less time lint-rolling black hairs off your ass, for one.”

At Jillian’s snicker, Ellie shook her head. “No, I mean it.”

Unlike most people, Ellie didn’t have many friends. Not growing up, and not as an adult. That was okay, though, because Jillian was one of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. “One of the luckiest days of my life was the day I met you.”

Her friend pretended to frown, leaning across the counter to press the back of her hand to Ellie’s forehead. “You sure you’re feeling okay? Oh god, please tell me this isn’t leading to a big reveal of a cancer diagnosis or something?”

Ellie batted Jillian away. “Stop! I promise I’m not about to spring a Nicholas Sparks twist on you, okay?” She rubbed her eyes with her fists. “The long drive and stress from the case must be making me sentimental, that’s all. Now, thanks for waiting up, but shoo! Go to bed and take that hairy beast with you.”

“I already have one hairy beast in my bed.”

Ellie smiled. “Are you talking about Jacob or Duke?”

That earned her a laugh. “Correction. I already have two hairy beasts in my bed, so this one will make three.”

Ellie wished that Jacob was awake because she barely got to see him anymore since they worked opposite shifts. “Tell both Jacob and Duke that they aren’t supposed to be sleeping on the job.”

Jillian rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a bodyguard, man or canine, thank you very much.”

Ellie wished that was true. “Sleep well.”

Jillian yawned. “You too.” She snapped her fingers. “Come along, hairy beast.”

Sam trotted at Jillian’s heels as her roommate wandered toward her bedroom. Right before she rounded the corner, she paused and grinned over her shoulder. “I think I’m pretty lucky too. Night.”

“Night.”

Once the door clicked shut, Ellie stretched again and headed for the fridge. After staring at the contents for over a minute without a single item tempting her, she shut the door again. Selection wasn’t the problem. Jillian’s pasta salad was to die for, and the fridge was packed with an assortment of easy-prep meals and snacks. Ellie just wasn’t hungry.

The shock of Dorothy Hindman’s gruesome accusation concerning Letitia Wiggins and Kingsley when he’d been a student had stolen her appetite.

With Jillian’s printouts in hand, Ellie headed for her own bedroom, frustrated when that little niggle in the back of her head returned, telling her she was missing something. But what?

She flipped on her light and went straight for the bed, kicking off her shoes before flopping onto the thick, squishy comforter. Names and faces circled through her brain, round and round without stopping.

Letitia. Kingsley. The three dead boys. Bethany.

Why did she sense a connection there? How did that even make sense? She concentrated, searching for common threads, but each time she came close to grasping one, the thought slipped away like a shadow in the night.

“Ugh.” Ellie flung an arm over her eyes, but sleep was a joke when her mind buzzed like this. After lying there a few minutes, she sat up, grabbed her case file, and flipped to the first page.

Maybe sheer boredom would