Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“They’re willing to come search the lake?” I leaned forward, hands on my thighs. This was huge. Monroe and I had long suspected valuable evidence in the Stapleton case might be in the nearby lake.
“Yep. And I offered to let the lead dude stay here. We’re getting our first guests and a chance to crack the case both.” Monroe beamed, as happy as I’d ever seen the guy.
“That’s awesome. Let me know how I can help.” It wasn’t like I could dive into the lake, but I was sure there was something I could do. Make myself useful. “Maybe I can interview him for the podcast.”
“That’s a great idea.” Knox shuffled from side to side while patting the sleeping baby. “Your podcast gets so many listeners. It could be great publicity for the organization and the case both.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell my contact.” Monroe nodded. “The head guy I spoke with is rather…dry, but I bet you can get him to open up.”
“That’s me. The icebreaker,” I joked even as I internally groaned. Great, a dry, inevitably egotistical former SEAL who probably only talked in diving math. We’d be lucky to get ten listeners, but if Monroe and Knox were this enthusiastic about the diver’s arrival, I couldn’t steal their oxygen tanks, so to speak.
“Heck, you’re likely to get his whole life story in under ten minutes.” Knox laughed. “You’re always the best at getting the good gossip.”
“Uh-huh.” Actually, it was more that I was super observant: once a cop, always a cop. I wasn’t any more social than the rest of them, but at this point, everyone expected it of me. The jokes, the smart remarks, the town news. Being the life of the friend group was exhausting, but it beat the alternative.
“Oh, babe, Sam brought us a present.” Monroe held up the gift bag from Sam. Babe. That was new. Supposed it was better than some pet names, but not much. Monroe opened the bag to reveal a round, wooden ornament. The rustic piece featured a little painting of the B&B, complete with their overgrown fuzzy cat in the window.
“I might cry,” Knox threatened.
“Please don’t.” Even Sam looked alarmed.
“Let’s put it on the tree.” Hand on his back, Monroe led Knox over to the Christmas tree in the front window. They might as well have been the picture on a gay greeting card: two super attractive men, utterly in love with each other, standing in front of their perfect tree, ornaments glimmering next to the sparkly strands of white lights. All that was missing was some Christmas music—
Wait. I heard some faint strains from farther in the house. Of course. Knox leaned in to kiss Monroe’s cheek, sharing some special secret in his ear. My chest tightened. Not jealous. Not jealous. Their type of domestic bliss simply wasn’t in the cards for me, and that was the icy truth, sharp and unmistakable.