Cold Snap Read Free

think of her as a little sister. She was, simply, stunning. He had a hard time not staring.
    “Gabrielle—I’m sorry, but—”
    “Elle.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Only my family calls me Gabrielle. As soon as I went to college, I changed my name. It’s Elle.”
    “Like the letter l .”
    “Like the last syllable of my name,” she snapped.
    “Elle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Your mother was worried because she couldn’t reach you—”
    “And you came all the way from San Diego? No—wait—you don’t live there anymore, do you?”
    “I live in Washington, D.C., but I was in Sacramento for the week.”
    “So you drove two hours just to check on me?”
    “Your mother is worried—” he said again.
    “Because I said I couldn’t come home for Christmas? Jeez!” She tossed her hands in the air, then scratched the back of her head as if she were still confused.
    “Because,” Patrick continued, “she’s left a dozen messages and you haven’t called her back. And your employer said you took vacation time.”
    “I’m thirty-two years old and my mother is sending a cop after me because I don’t answer my phone.”
    “I’m not a cop anymore.”
    “Tell her I’m fine . Thank you. Good-bye .”
    Elle seemed agitated, over and beyond her irritation that Patrick had been in her apartment.
    “What’s wrong?”
    She gave him a puzzled look. “What’s wrong?”
    “Why do you do that?”
    “Do what?”
    “Deflect. I ask questions. You don’t answer them.”
    “I have a lot going on, Patrick.” She spread her arms wide and spun in a circle. “Take a good look. Tell my mother I’m alive and well.”
    “Call her.”
    “I will.”
    “Now.”
    She scrunched up her nose. “I haven’t seen you in, like, ten years, and you break into my apartment and order me to call my mother?” She laughed, but it sounded strained.
    Patrick didn’t want to get in the middle of a family squabble, because he was getting the distinct impression that this was mostly about family, and family—even a close-knit clan like the Kincaids or the Santanas—could drive anyone crazy.
    When she realized that he was serious and that she was still holding her phone, she made a production of punching the buttons. A moment later Patrick could hear a loud “Gabrielle!” on the other end of the line.
    “Mama, I can’t believe you sent Patrick Kincaid to track me down. I am so embarrassed!”
    She didn’t look embarrassed; she looked pissed.
    “I told you, I have to work. It’s an important case, I can’t take time off.”
    Patrick raised his eyebrows, but Elle wasn’t paying attention. She listened to her mother talk, then both of them started speaking rapidly in Spanish. Patrick wasn’t as fluent in the language as his younger sister, but he’d been raised by a Cuban mother and had a basic understanding. The conversation was rapidly deteriorating as Elle explained why she had to spend Christmas preparing for a case, and why it was important, and that she couldn’t do it in San Diego because she needed access to her law office.
    And the entire time, Patrick had the strong impression that she was lying.
    “I love you, too, Mama. I’m sorry—I’ll visit as soon as I can. I know it’s not the same as Christmas—I know it’s been two years—Mama, please, I feel bad already. Yes. I promise.” She hung up. “There,” she said to Patrick. “Satisfied?”
    “I did my job,” he said. “But why did you lie to your mother?”
    “What?” She blinked rapidly. She was an awful liar.
    “Your law firm said you were on vacation.”
    “I don’t need to explain myself to you—look, Patrick, I really have to go.”
    “You just got home.”
    “Because I needed to get some things.”
    The buzzer rang and Elle briefly looked like a deer caught in headlights. She ran to her front door and pressed a button on the panel. A screen with a black-and-white image popped up. An Asian woman in jeans and a long wool