Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Jane: Super safe!
He saw bubbles. What would she say next? Another admission of case interference? Wait. The bubbles vanished. Then they reappeared. Nope. Gone again.
Frustration scraped at already raw nerves. “I need to make a call,” he muttered to Barrow, interrupting the man’s boast about a judo match. With the tap of his finger, Conrad dialed Miss Jane Ladling.
“I assure you,” she began in lieu of a greeting.
“You’re typing too slow,” he said. He made no mention of his location: soon to arrive at the cemetery. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Um, so, quick detail, no big deal, because there’s no way it’s a crime since I did the right thing, given the circumstances and information at hand, so don’t even think about arresting me, but I kind of punched Dr. Garcia in the face before we chatted.”
What! Conrad squeezed his phone. What had the doctor done to deserve a strike from the (sometimes) gentle gravekeeper? “Start from the beginning. I want to know every detail concerning both encounters. Waynes-Kirkland and Garcia.” What happened?
“Well. You see, I was walking down the sidewalk in town, minding my own business mostly when all of the sudden someone snatched my arm and pulled me into an alley. I reacted on instinct, as anyone would, and swung. Boom! Suddenly he’s got a broken nose and blood is pouring. But like I said, there’s no way this is a crime because it was self-defense on my part. Mostly. I mean, he didn’t do anything bad. And Grandma Lily did tell me again and again to season my words and actions with grace. Grace doesn’t punch all willy nilly. And really, he just wanted me to know that he’s innocent, but he’d had a terrible fight with Dr. Hots the day of the murder—did you know Dr. Garcia hoped to buy the clinic and get rid of the serial banger? Anyway. You guys took all their electronics or something, so he’s certain he’s going to prison.”
When she finished, she drew a deep breath, as if gearing up for another speech. The only way Conrad could react? Release a sigh from the depths of his being. What was he going to do with this woman?
“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked.
“A date?” Barrow whispered.
Conrad waved the question away as a crackling pause stretched between him and Jane.
“Are you about to ask me on a real date?” she rasped, excitement dripping from her tone. “Because I might say yes, even though I really, really should say no. And not just because of the case.”
That excitement… Any lingering upset drained from him. “I’ll take that as a no, you have no plans, so I’ll be over at seven. I’ll bring dinner, and you’ll explain this mysterious reason to reject me.” The supposed curse? “Dress comfortably. This isn’t a date—” not officially—“but a training seminar.” Because of the investigation, that’s the way it had to be. “You’ll be learning how to defend yourself on purpose.”
“I accept your command/request, but don’t bring food.” Her excitement only magnified. “I’ll cook.”
The call ended before he could tell her about his plans to remove the crime scene tape.
“Not a date, huh?” Barrow grinned a little too widely. “Simply giving away free self-defense lessons?”
Conrad responded with a grumbling sound.
“That’s how all long-lasting relationships start, by the way,” his partner said, his wide shoulders shaking with laughter.
Ignoring the man, Conrad texted Beau: Be on the lookout. If the Garden gets any visitors in the next few days, I want to know about it. There are more treasure hunters in AH than previously suspected.
B. Harden: I’ll add alarms to Jane’s windows and doors. If anyone breaches the house, I’ll receive an alert.
Good man.
Conrad: I’ll be there at 7, and I’ll be double checking your work.
B. Harden: Hilarious. As if you’ll even understand half the things I’ve done.
He chuckled. A short while later, he and Barrow reached the cemetery. No sign of Jane. Though he spotted Beau’s truck parked near the cottage, Conrad never encountered him as he cleared the murder scene for visitors. He didn’t remove the cameras at Muffin’s headstone. Not yet, anyway. No one had taken the bait and come to collect the false murder weapon. But they could, now that GBH seemed to be backing off.
At the clinic, they discovered Emma had gone home sick. Thankfully, it wasn’t a wasted trip. Garcia had returned, and Conrad used the opportunity to warn the doctor: Do not approach Jane again. The man sported a broken nose, which had caused two black eyes. Good. Perhaps he’d learned the error of his ways.
“Do we wait for Mrs. Miller to recover?” Barrow asked as they climbed into the SUV. “If she’s truly sick.”
“Only one way to find out. We have to risk it.” But she wasn’t at home, or she wasn’t answering.