Page 1 of Secrets on Ice

1

EMBER

“Trevor left his phone at home.” Cassidy holds it up from the passenger seat. “It was wedged between the couch cushions. I found it when I was grabbing my gym bag.”

“Do you want to drop it off to him on the way?” I ask, turning left out of our street.

“Yeah. He said he was heading to the Maple Street house before he left this morning. It’s on our way to the gym. I’ll be five minutes max.”

“Okay, but if we miss our class because of this, you owe me a coffee,” I tease.

“If we miss the class, the instructor is going to make us do twenty extra squats, and I’m already sore from leg day.” Cassidy moans.

“You should’ve stretched more. I told you. You spent five minutes lying on the floor complaining.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassidy says, rolling her eyes at me.

I laugh as I turn onto the main road.

Cassidy has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Our brothers introduced us when they played on the same junior hockey team. Neither of us knew another girl with a twin brother, so we bonded over how irritating they were and have been joined at the hip ever since. She’s my ride-or-die, and I’m hers. People would call us codependent, and they would be right. We live on the same street, both became interior designers, married best friends, and started a business with them. My husband, Kevin, is a real estate agent. He finds properties and sells them. Cassidy’s husband, Trevor, is the contractor. He looks after the trades we use to flip the homes, while Cassidy and I design them. It works, and we love what we do. Kevin and I have been together since high school. Trevor was his best friend, and I introduced Trevor to Cassidy. At the time, we thought it was perfect, two best friends marrying two best friends.

We pull onto Maple Street, and I slow outside our latest flip. The house is nearly finished. Fresh paint, new kitchen, refinished floors, the works, but Trevor’s truck isn’t here.

“Doesn’t look like he’s here,” I tell her.

Cassidy frowns. “He told me Maple Street.”

“Maybe he went to grab materials or realized he forgot his phone and headed home.”

“Maybe, let me check his location.” She taps away on his screen before turning it toward me, her brows pulled together. “He’s at Magnolia Avenue.”

“Why would he be there?” I ask her.

“Exactly, we’ve only settled on that one. We’re not ready to start work yet.”

I shrug. “Maybe he’s checking something.”

Cassidy rolls her eyes. “Can you see where Kevin is? If he’s close, I’ll give the phone to him, and we can get the hell out of here.”

I pull my phone from the cup holder and check Kevin’s location. “He’s at Magnolia too.”

“Weird?”

I start the car again and pull out into the street. “Maybe something came up.”

Cassidy huffs. “Great, we’re definitely missing class.” She throws her head back against the seat. “Let’s drop the phone off and try to catch the next session.”

“Sounds like a plan. I can grab a coffee before.”

I take the turn toward Magnolia Avenue, and we don’t stop talking for the entire twenty minutes.

Both trucks are parked out front when we arrive. Cassidy grabs Trevor’s phone, and I take my water bottle from the console. We climb the porch steps still arguing about whether deadlifts are actually the devil.

The front door is unlocked, so we walk straight inside, still talking.

Then I freeze.

My brain flat-out refuses to process what I’m seeing.