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)
“Let’s say you gather your own evidence and stop expecting my client to do your job for you,” Hagger interjected with a scowl, squeezing the nurse’s arm.
Miller pressed her lips together, remaining silent.
“Outline your day for us,” Conrad said.
She glanced at Hagger, who released her and nodded. “My alarm is always set for six,” she stated. “I fed Cheddar, cleaned up and dressed, then walked into the clinic around seven-thirty, for an eight o’clock open. Marcus and Caroline were already there.”
A fact Conrad had known. “What were the doctor and PA doing?”
Her eyes brightened, as if a lightbulb had just gone off inside her mind. “You suspect Caroline? Yes, they totally could have slept together.” Like a shark who’d scented blood; that’s what she reminded him of. “He accidentally called her hon once. Caroline acted super mad but seemed pleased at the same time. I was so shocked to see the ice queen crack.”
Hmm. Hon. Short for honeybun? Or simply a generic endearment Hotchkins used for random women? “To your knowledge, did he ever call anyone else hon? Or even honey?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything.” She wagged her jaw. “Now that I know he was a sex addict, I’m pretty confident hon was an endearment he used to make her think she was special to him. That she meant something.” A note of bitterness seeped into her tone. “He called me doll. At least to my face,” she added, grumbling.
Conrad’s thoughts whirled. If Hotchkins and Whittington had an affair on top of hunting gold together, why keep her name off his key? He’d listed Emma, a fellow co-worker. And Whittington didn’t have a significant other to hurt or infuriate. Why protect her privacy?
For the next half hour, Conrad and Barrow launched questions at Mrs. Miller, noting any inconsistencies with other statements. Finally, Hagger reached the limits of his patience.
The attorney exploded to his feet, saying, “That’s enough. Either charge her with something, or we’re done here.”
“We’re done here,” Conrad offered easily.
Hagger flashed his teeth and helped Miller to her feet before marching to the door. Seconds later, the two were gone.
Conrad looked to Barrow. “Gotta admit, that went better than I expected.” Everything inside him cried, Finally on the right path. “Let’s look for anything honey related we might have missed in the planner.”
“Will do,” Barrow said with a nod.
Success was only a matter of time now. Well, that, and surveying Jane’s event.
In the days before the Garden’s scheduled midnight tour, Conrad questioned Whittington again. She claimed the doctor never referred to her as hon, honey or honeybun. Had Miller lied to him? The nurse had a habit of doing so. But how to prove it?
Conrad remained in contact with Beau via text. They mapped out a plan to keep Jane safe and secure despite her best efforts to rush headlong into danger. That was his excuse for showing up bright and early at the cottage the day of the event, anyway. Everything he needed for both labor and the party waited inside his car. The blond had beat him there and waited on the porch, sipping a glass of iced tea.
“Only an hour earlier than we planned?” Beau tsked and wagged his head, as if embarrassed for him. “Jane deserves better.”
Conrad rolled his eyes. But he said, “I can’t even argue with you.”
They got busy hanging LED lanterns throughout the cemetery, creating predetermined paths for guests to walk. Anyone who deviated was going to be recorded with night vision cameras and watched by Barrow, who would be observing the festivities from a viewing station near the old business center.
When they finished that task, Conrad and Beau worked up a sweat constructing a small dais at the edge of the parking lot. The platform should provide a full view of the crowd—and offer a view of Jane’s bodyguards. Another bonus: separating the lovely hostess from the masses.
With two hours to spare before kick off, they ambled to the cottage. As they entered, Jane blazed up the stairs, clad in a robe with curlers in her hair and a green mask on her face, the most adorable sight on Earth. Rolex trailed her as she called, “Whipped up some snacks for you. Feel free to use the guest room. Beau, I left the groundskeeper’s costume on the bed. Okay, bye!” A door shut. A lock clicked.
Conrad stood there a moment, trying to collect his wits.
Beau snickered at him. “And I thought I once had it bad for her.”
“You did. You just didn’t have it bad enough.”
The vet gave him a friendly shove. “Do you even hear yourself sometimes? Not bad enough,” he mocked.
“Truth is truth.” The scent of heaven drew them into the kitchen, where an array of dishes awaited them. Potato skins, loaded deviled eggs, hash brown sausage balls, ham and cheese sliders, crab cakes, and for dessert, Georgia peach cobbler. “Wow.”