If Looks Could Kill by Heather Graham Page B

and piled her blond hair into a cap. Madison helped tuck her daughter’s curls beneath the elastic rim before bringing Carrie Anne in with her. They both sudsed up and rinsed off, Madison making sure Carrie Anne did her toes and ears, before Carrie Anne asked her, “What are we doing today, Mommy?”
    Madison hesitated. She turned off the shower, reached for towels and swung Carrie Anne from the shower to the plush rug at its side.
    She took all that time, but then it seemed that she talked before she really thought. “Want to go out on the boat?”
    â€œWith Grandpa?” Carrie Anne asked.
    Madison shook her head, wrapping a towel around her daughter’s. “I don’t think Grandpa’s coming. He’s really into one of his books right now. But an old friend is down…He used to be my stepbrother.”
    â€œHow can somebody used to be your brother?” Carrie Anne asked, truly mystified.
    Madison opened her mouth to answer, then shrugged. “Well, once his dad and my mom were married. So we were what people call stepbrother and stepsister. But you know that my mommy died—”
    â€œAnd went to heaven,” Carrie Anne supplied.
    â€œAnd went to heaven,” Madison agreed softly. “And then my stepbrother and I didn’t really see too much of one another anymore. Anyway, his name is Kyle. And you know Kyle’s daddy, Roger. You know his brother, Rafe.”
    â€œHe’s Uncle Rafe’s brother?” Carrie Anne asked, pleased. Rafe was always great with the kids. Madison often wondered why Kyle’s older brother had never married and had his own kids. Of course, he, like the rest of them, had watched such a multitude of marriages go wrong. Rafe had spent a few years in New York, on Wall Street, and in that little bit of time, he’d made a fortune. Now he was based in Miami, where he played at the stock market and being an entrepreneur.
    â€œActually, he’s Uncle Rafe’s half brother,” she said. “But we usually just say brother or sister, because except for Auntie Kaila and me, we were all half sisters and brothers or stepsisters and brothers.” She was confusing her daughter, and she smiled. “Honey, Kyle is related to Uncle Rafe. But he’s not really like Uncle Rafe.”
    â€œHe’s not nice?” Carrie Anne said with a frown.
    â€œNo, no, he’s just different. You know, the way Aunt Kaila and I are different.”
    Carrie Anne shook her head. “You and Auntie Kaila look just alike, Mommy.”
    â€œRight—but we’re different.”
    â€œYou act different.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou act happy. Most the time. Auntie Kaila doesn’t.”
    Madison frowned, looking at her daughter. She acted happy? Life was a thrill a minute. But it was true that Kaila hadn’t seemed particularly happy lately. Madison wondered what was so wrong, that a five-year-old could intuitively sense a problem.
    â€œDon’t be silly,” she told Carrie Anne. “Auntie Kaila has a beautiful home, a supernice husband and three great, cute little kids just like you. She’s happy.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Carrie Anne said, then let it drop. “Let’s go on the boat!” she enthused suddenly.
    â€œOkay…then go get your bathing suit on, the new one with the matching cover-up—”
    â€œI will, I will, I know, the sun can be murder,” Carrie Anne said, smiling.
    Madison nodded. “I’ll get dressed myself and see you in a few minutes.”
    â€œYou should wear your new bathing suit, too, Mommy,” Carrie Anne advised. “The one with the matching cover-up.” At five, Carrie Anne already loved clothes. She took good care of her own and liked to advise Madison on hers.
    â€œOkay,” Madison agreed. “Let’s get to it, then.”
    Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed in her new turquoise-and-gold two-piece