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)
Still waiting.
At precisely 2:46 a.m. Jane’s burner phone beeped. She jolted upright and swung the little device in front of her face to check the screen. Three words peered up at her, making her heart leap.
I’ll be there.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I’d rather eat a nail than accept a participation trophy.”
Conrad Ryan, special agent at Georgia Bureau of Homicide
“All right. I’ve got eyes on Emma.” Beau’s husky voice poured through the device he’d plugged into Jane’s ear before he’d left the cottage earlier. He’d dubbed himself “central command,” his job to maintain contact with every Team Truth player in tonight’s game. “She’s in the backyard, dressed as a spy and carrying a briefcase. She’s definitely agitated and on high alert.”
Heart thumping, Jane glanced at Conrad, who sat behind the wheel of his sedan with a device in his ear, as well. “You ready?” she asked from the passenger side.
“No, but I guess we’re doing this, anyway.” He exited the vehicle with a huff, and Jane sighed.
Her boys were in no way pleased with her and her plan. But they’d recognized brilliance when they’d heard it…after a couple hours of convincing on her part. On their part, she’d received countless lectures about never again putting herself in danger.
As she double checked the contents of her pink jelly-purse—a vintage find at a thrift store—Conrad jogged around the vehicle, opened her door and extended a helping hand. Emerging into the night, she adjusted her single, fingerless glove. With her legwarmers, lacy miniskirt, and layered pearls, Jane felt ready to conquer the world. The neck of her T-shirt hung off one shoulder, and it was totally tubular. Like beyond tripendicular. Most triumphant. Whatever!
She’d begun this latest investigation in the 1920s, but would finish it as an 80s fashion icon. Conrad’s costume? A plain white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’d said, “Consider me an advertisement for men’s lounge wear.”
Granted, he looked as hot as ever. If not hotter. Okay, so, definitely hotter. The definition!
Her cheeks grew hot as they strolled down the darkened street toward Tiffany’s three-story mansion. Eerie lights and creepy decorations lined the long, winding driveway.
“I don’t want you putting yourself in danger,” he said for the thousandth time.
“Conrad. Sweet pea.” No, that was in no way the perfect nickname for him. She’d try a new one later. “When you’re doing the right thing, it isn’t dangerous, it’s righteous. So get on the rightness train and hold on or get off at the next stop. Your choice.”
He scowled at her. “You are not to leave my side,” he informed her, taking her hand.
Goodness gracious! “For this to work, I have to leave your side. Emma won’t pay up if you’re nearby. Deep down, you know this. It’s why you’re willing to go along. That, and your boss gave us the green light. Plus, you’ll hear me the entire time.” Before they left the cottage, he’d activated their shared phone app. “Plus, I’ll never be without protection. The members of Peach State Security are already mingling with party guests.” Even Fiona and a much recovered Sheriff Moore had come. Deputies, too. And Lucy! This was a bona fide sting operation, with local cops and GBH agents mixed into the crowd!
Tiffany’s front door remained wide open. Conrad muttered, “Let’s get this done,” and ushered Jane inside the home.
Fast-paced music played in the background. On one side, strobe lights tossed shards of color around and around. On the other, a thin layer of fog wafted from a machine. Lifelike bats dangled from the ceiling. And oh, they were adorable. Like little sky kittens.
Laughing adults filled the foyer, some dancing. Others huddled together and sipped their beverages. Their costumes varied from sexy to scary, elaborate to simple. Jane recognized most of the guests. Those sporting masks remained a mystery, however.
“By the way, Jane,” Beau muttered in her ear. “I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this abomination. Trick hasn’t stopped snickering. Isaac took my picture and vowed to post it everywhere, and Holden says he can never take me seriously again.”
She stifled a chuckle, and even Conrad cracked a smile. Had she jumped on the opportunity to dress Beau as a sexy vampire, complete with a purple velvet duster, black leather pants and body glitter? Yes. Did she allow him to add a shirt to the ensemble? No. Did she regret it? Also no. Not the slightest bit.
“Did Sora like it?” she asked softly, knowing her friend could hear every word.
“She was too busy making strangling noises to tell me. And that’s the last question I’ll answer about her.”
Jane couldn’t see him, but she imagined his cheeks were a brighter pink than her glove.
“Jane Ladling, as I live and breathe. How dare you show your face here?” Tiffany Hotchkins marched over, dressed in what could only be described as a mantrap fairy. She wore a front-tie corset dress in ruby red and thigh-high stiletto boots, with ornate sequined wings stretching over her shoulders. “You need to leave. Now.”