“But you didn’t sleep in,” she pointed out sulkily.
“Olivia Jane, are you arguing with me about letting you get a few extra hours of sleep that you obviously needed?”
She grinned at the exasperation in his tone. “Maybe a little.”
“Well, maybe I should warm your bottom up a little. How about that?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Laughing, she darted away when he lunged for her. She snagged a piece of bacon from a plate on the counter and ran to the living room, well out of reach of Daddy and his wooden spoons. As usual, James had the news on so he could listen as he cooked. Yuck. She wanted to watch something fun. But before she could grab the remote, the image on the screen had her rooted to the spot.
“The body of Angela Winters was discovered this morning by the owners of a house she was contracted to sell. Cause of death has yet to be determined, but the police are actively pursuing all leads. We will have more details for you as soon as they become available.”
Fear slithered up her spine at the somber, monotone explanation. Feeling as though she was watching someone else in her body, she made her way back to the kitchen. “Do you have a copy of the magazine?”
Looking up from the stove, James frowned at her. “In my laptop bag, in my office. Why?”
“I just need it.” With a sudden urgency, a need toknowfor sure what her gut was already telling her, she ran down the short hall to his office and grabbed his bag. She pulled the magazine free and frantically flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.
Two pages past her own story was Angela Winters, staring at her from the glossy pages of the magazine.
“Olivia? What’s wrong?”
“I met her.” Her hands shook so hard when she held the magazine up for him to view, she nearly ripped it in half. “I met her when we all got together for our photo shoots. And now she’s dead. I think—I think someone killed her, James.”
“Oh, Livvy. Come here.”
A sob bubbled up in her throat, bursting out of her when his arms locked around her, cradling her to his chest. “Who would do something like this?”
“I don’t know, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Held tight against him, she grieved for a woman she’d barely known, for the family that would never be whole again. “I don’t understand,” she said with a soft sigh when the tears faded, leaving behind a hollow ache in her gut.
“I’m not sure this is the kind of thing that can be understood, baby.” James pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Come back to the kitchen with me, I’ll finish making you some breakfast.”
“Not hungry.”
Pulling away, he gently tilted her face up. There was no anger or condemnation in his expression, only concern, but there was no doubting the authority in his voice when he spoke. “You didn’t eat any dinner last night, little one. You need to put something in your tummy. At least a couple bites of breakfast, and then you can go lie down for a bit, if you want.”
It was so easy and simple to slide into her role. For now, she could just be his little girl, before she had to deal with so many grownup emotions. “I want ice cream.”
Despite his obvious amusement with her request, her Daddy shook his head. “You can’t have ice cream for breakfast, Livvy. But if you’re a good girl, you can have some ice cream after dinner.”
“‘Kay,” she conceded with only a small pout. Ice cream was ice cream, even if she had to wait a few hours to get it.
“That’s my good girl. Come with Daddy.”
Slipping her hand in his, she let him lead her from the office back down the hall to the kitchen where he guided her to the little breakfast nook she loved so much. After he ducked back into the living room to turn the tv off, it didn’t take long for him to finish cooking, and he returned to the table with two plates, each holding a huge waffle and a pile of bacon.
“Waffles!” Wiggling her butt on the bench, she grinned up at him. “We haven’t had waffles in ages!”
“I figured our celebration could carry over to this morning, and I know they’re your favorite.”
Grief and guilt gripped her, twisting her heart and stomach inside out. While they’d been enjoying each other’s bodies and celebrating her accomplishments, someone had been murdering Angela. Did she even have a chance to celebrate? Have a drink with a friend or kiss someone she loved?
Tears blurring her vision once again, Olivia poked at her waffle with her fork. “Thanks.”
“Livvy, I know you’re sad, but you need to eat something.”
With a small sigh, she soaked the waffle in syrup, just the way she liked it, and cut off a small bite. Though she barely tasted it when she chewed, she mustered up a smile for him. “It’s good, Daddy.”