Read The Dead and the Beautiful for Free Online Page B

breakfast for dinner tonight involved a box mix and the addition of eggs and water.
    Jeremy looked at his sister, sitting on a stool at the granite counter. She had her head in her hands.
    â€œDid you see Ryan Melton? Dead?” he asked.
    Alison shook her head. “I didn’t see anything,” she whispered.
    Jeremy glanced at Nikki. He was good-looking, but all-American good-looking—part of the reason he had been so popular as a teen. He had never been gorgeous in a Ryan Melton kind of way, but he was tall and had nice brown hair and dark eyes a girl could lose herself in. What was most attractive to Nikki about Jeremy—what had always most attracted her, even when they were kids—was that he was a super-nice guy. Jeremy was kind, loyal, smart—he was the whole package.
    Nikki flipped a pancake. It was supposed to look like Mickey Mouse’s head. It was for Jeremy’s youngest, Katie, who would be five the following month. One of Mickey’s ears tore off. Nikki neatly cut off the other with her spatula and ate the ears.
    â€œShe’s upset, Jeremy. You need to stay calm.”
    He frowned. “I am calm. I’m just asking my sister why the police wanted to question her about someone’s murder .”
    Nikki answered for Alison. “Because she was in the house today.”
    â€œWhen it happened?”
    â€œNo. No, of course not, right, Alison?” Nikki asked. Both she and Jeremy looked at his sister.
    â€œI don’t know when he was killed.” Alison spoke each word slowly, as if in a daze . . . slowly, as if she needed to form the words in her head before being able to say them. “I don’t know anything about what happened. I only know what I did. I took his dog to the dog park, along with Ollie and Stan. I took the dog back to the house. I let him loose in the house. I hung up the dog leash and left the house.”
    â€œSee. She was there. Doing her job. That’s why Tom . . . Detective Dombrowski questioned her.” Nikki gestured with the spatula, then flipped another pancake.
    Jeremy exhaled. He never wore his white lab coat home, but he was still in a shirt and paisley Ralph Lauren tie. “And you told the detective that? That you didn’t see anything?”
    â€œYes,” Alison said.
    â€œAnd you really didn’t?”
    â€œJeremy?” Nikki turned to him, surprised. “That’s a terrible question to ask.”
    â€œNot as terrible as it might sound.” He glanced at his sister, who had dropped her head to the counter again. “Considering previous events.”
    Alison didn’t answer, and the look on Jeremy’s face suggested this wasn’t the time for Nikki to ask what he was talking about.
    â€œWhy don’t you go in and see the kids?” Nikki suggested. “Alison said Jocelyn stayed after school for something, but she’s getting a ride home, so no one needs to pick her up. I’ll finish here. Then I have to run. Mother’s for dinner. Unless you need me to stay?”
    â€œWe’ll be fine. Thanks, hon.” He rested his hand on Nikki’s shoulder and gave her a sweet peck on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen.
    Alison waited until her brother was out of the room to speak. She lifted her head to look at Nikki. She was a mess. The little bit of mascara she had been wearing had run and then smeared under her eyes. Her face was swollen and blotchy from crying. “He hates me,” she said in a girlish voice.
    Nikki tossed pancakes from the frying pan onto a white serving platter. Every dish in the kitchen was white or yellow. The kitchen, renovated by Jeremy’s wife in the early stages of her cancer treatment, was very French Country: a brick floor, honey yellow walls, granite countertops, distressed white cabinetry, ceramic tiles, and rustic urns. Copper pots hanging from a rack over the enormous island added to the ambience.
    â€œJeremy