Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Ohhhh. Had that been a crack directed at Hagger? Talk about fuel for Jane’s fire!
Readier than ever, she skirted around the counter and strode through the door. She passed Tony’s office—closed, dang it, preventing a walk-by peek-in—and entered the one at the end of the hall, as directed. Oh wow. Triple the size of Tony’s and maybe even bigger than Jane’s entire cottage.
Hagger sat behind a large, ornate desk with a panoramic wall of windows as his backdrop. Those windows overlooked the delightful pond separating this building from the historic Manor on Prospect Street, the most exclusive B&B in town. Plaques dictating his accomplishments peppered the walls. Baseball memorabilia filled a display case.
“Have a seat,” he said, a clear command. Even without a costume, he was more imposing in person than in video. Forget the thinning hair and rotund center. A haughty expression and expensive suit granted him an air of authority.
Though everything about his demeanor chaffed, she offered him a sunny smile. He’d agreed to see her free of charge. Best not to push. “Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.” She smoothed the dress’s skirt and settled into a soft, padded chair in front of his elaborate desk.
He studied her as he stroked the barrel of a designer fountain pen. “I know all about you and your sleuthing, Miss Ladling. Tony had much to say about it when he worked your case.”
“Oh? Please, do tell,” she invited, knowing Hagger wanted the words to hang above her head like an executioner’s sword.
“I believe his description included the phrases overly curious, questionably obtuse and annoyingly innocent.”
“Well. How kind of him,” she said. Honestly, the person he’d just described sounded pretty amazing to Jane.
He revealed the barest hint of a sneer. “For once, I think he got it right.”
“Not his biggest fan, I see.”
A vein bulged in his brow. He might kick her out sooner rather than later. “What is it you wish to know, Miss Ladling?”
“Give me a sec.” No time to waste. She withdrew her notebook and a pen—an ordinary ballpoint that cost less than a dollar. “I already know Tony lost a lot of clients after his divorce. Maybe even before. You couldn’t have wanted to continue partnering with him. Is that why the two of you argued at the party?”
Rather than react with any kind of human emotion, he schooled his expression. Inscrutable, level five. “I do not confirm or deny that we argued. But if we did, the topic of discussion is none of your business.”
“Oh, no worries.” She waved a hand through the air. “I don’t need you to confirm or deny anything. I have the argument on video.” If only that video had come with sound. “So does GBH. But I have to wonder. Why did you agree to meet with me if you planned to evade my questions?”
His eyelids narrowed to tiny slits, downgrading his poker face to level two. “To tell you this. Instead of trying to pin the murder on me, you should be investigating Emma Miller’s boyfriend.”
“Come again?” Emma had a full-on boyfriend? She’d mentioned dating around, but nothing about a possible relationship.
Hagger leaned forward and tossed a folder at Jane. “Before the divorce was finalized, Tony paid a PI to follow her. The guy snagged some interesting images, don’t you think?”
As she flipped through an assortment of photos, she struggled not to gape. Goatee! The wiry guy from the video, who’d followed Emma at the party. He and the nurse had done an awful lot of PDA. In front of a movie theater. Outside the clinic, propped against an old sports car. On a porch swing.
Had Conrad seen these?
“Meet Reggie Belfry,” Hagger said. “Some wannabe chef from Atlanta trying to make a name for himself with an internet show. The two met when he came to Aurelian Hills to film a segment about small town diners.”
So much information. And the attorney couldn’t dish it fast enough, could he? As if he was doing everything in his power to throw suspicion off himself. But, to his credit, Emma did look guilty as heck. Jane could think of only one reason for the nurse to hide the seriousness of her association with the chef. And from her own private investigator, no less, who she’d offered to pay “whatever you want.” Emma and her boyfriend had planned and executed the murder together.
Or, maybe Mr. Belfry had done it on his own as a romantic gesture of sorts, all Tada! I got rid of your ex for you. Marry me. Did Emma hope to protect him now?
Hagger tilted back in his chair and linked his fingers over his middle. “I’ve given you enough of my valuable time, Miss Ladling. Unless you want to pay my hourly rate, you need to leave.”
“No worries. I’m happy to go,” she said, returning her notebook to her purse and standing. Though she’d only gotten to ask one question on her list of thirty, she had learned more than she’d hoped. In fact, she was feeling surprisingly optimistic and expected to solve this thing in record time. She’d just narrowed her list down to three. Emma, Hagger and this Belfry. Plus the doctors. So, more of a solidifying than a narrowing. But honestly, investigative work really was a piece of cake. Not to toot her own horn, but… toot, toot.