Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Maybe she was born to be a legitimate author, not just an undercover one?
“Good to see you too.” With his free hand, Christopher pulled at his collar. He glanced between his ex and his current girlfriend. Oh, yeah. He definitely feared what might be mentioned about him.
“I’m glad you could make it, Jane,” the mechanic replied, her tone neutral. She’d unpinned her fringe of bangs, and oh, they looked fierce. Plus, she now matched the description of the killer’s heroine as much as Jane. The rest of her long dark hair was anchored in a low ponytail that positively oozed relaxed creativity. The cat-eye glasses were to die for. Were they prescription or added for a writerly flare?
Maggie’s gaze slid to Beau a second time, then all but bounced off him to return to Jane. “Sheriff Ryan wasn’t able to attend?”
“He’s busy working on Hannah's case.” Also, he’d abided by the punishment because one, he believed in justice, even against himself, and two, he’d found no probable cause, despite his best efforts. Of course, he’d insisted Trick, Isaac and Holden stake out the place. They, too, were undercover as authors. “This is Beau Harden, my most beloved childhood friend. He’s a struggling, unpublished author I’ve taken under my wing.” She squeezed his arm. A signal to turn up the heat and win everyone over.
Beau, drat him, merely nodded a greeting, saying nothing.
“Aren’t you unpublished?” Abigail asked.
“Only temporarily. You’re flying solo, I see.” Jane held her gaze. “No fiancé?”
Her majesty flipped her hair over one shoulder. “Mase wasn’t feeling well.”
Because he’d feared the worst–that his new girlfriend had killed his ex-wife? Perhaps guilt wouldn’t allow him to celebrate the life of the woman he’d murdered. Or had he just needed a break from Abigail? All were good, plausible options, though the third was more of a certainty.
“Hopefully he recovers swiftly. So. How do you know Donnie Eggerson?” she asked Maggie. Why not dive into the deep end?
“I invited him,” Christopher piped up. “After you requested information about his life, I realized he must be pretty lonely as the new guy in town and thought he could use a friend.”
Well. That was very sweet. And logical, dang it. Jane switched her case-sights to the Thackers. To provoke the duo into approaching sooner rather than later, she darted her gaze in their direction before leaning in to whisper a “secret” to her hostess. “I’m so happy to see the mayor here.”
“Oh. Um.” Maggie smiled, uncomfortable by her closeness, and glanced at the Thackers, exactly as Jane had hoped. Then the mechanic focused on Christopher, as if asking, what even is happening, really selling the illusion of salacious gossiping. “Yes. Well. Mayor Thacker is a majority stockholder of the Headliner, so he’s always interested in writers.”
So Jacob was on the board of directors, and the mayor was an owner. Hello, connection to Hannah. How many book club meetings had the mayor attended on the hunt for new talent?
“Maggie mentioned you’re writing a book retelling the different murders that have taken place in our town, including this one,” Abigail said with a flourish. She sipped from her flute of wine. “Well, so am I. So is Maggie. So is Jacob, for that matter.”
The urge to go home and write without pause until Jane reached the end bombarded her. If Abigail thought she would publish a bestseller featuring the Case of Cemetery Cat and Deadly Mouse—Murder in the Treasure Room? Invitation to Murder? Romancing the Gravestone? Grave Reviews?—well, she was sadly mistaken. Unless Abigail had written the original crime scene manuscript chapter, and this was a taunt.
Jane offered a tight smile. “How could I know what you were writing? You refused to say.”
“Are you or are you not detective enough to find out?”
Ohhh. Nice one. Was this the reason Jane had received an invite? Either she pretended to have heard about the other woman’s drivel, or she admitted to being a poor investigator.
“Perhaps I discovered you’re the killer,” she said to the other woman as sweetly as she was able, “creating a story for yourself.”
Abigail glared, snapping, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Christopher’s eyes got wide. He gazed from woman to woman. Maggie pursed her lips. Jane opened her mouth to respond but paused instead. Was that… no, it couldn’t be. But it was. Lucy stood in the far corner, near the snack table, waving Jane over to join her in the shadows.
She just stopped herself from doing a double take. Oh, wow. The former loan officer had drastically changed her appearance. Her friend had chopped off most of her hair and bleached the strands white. Or she wore a wig.
“Excuse me. I would love to try that artichoke dip.” True statement. She shuffled away before Beau could stop her and made her way to Lucy. But dang it, so did Beau.