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)
Jane envisioned a bloodbath in her small town and shuddered.
Deputy Poteet used the same cautious technique to withdraw the small purple envelope from Jacob’s hand.
Purple for murder scenes, and red for game moves?
Anger, frustration and perhaps even fear pulsed from Conrad when the deputy drew his attention to something on the envelope. He ran his tongue over his straight, white teeth.
Curiosity squeezed Jane’s chest. “What?” she demanded.
A muscle jumped beneath his eye as he nodded to the deputy, and she showed Jane the name on its front. Well, well. J A N E spelled out in magazine letters.
Before anyone realized what was happening, the deputy withdrew and unfolded the paper inside. Conrad snapped “Don’t–” and reached for her wrist to stop her, but it was too late. A glittery white cloud sprayed from the card, exactly as glitter had sprayed from the card found in Jane’s hearse.
Both Conrad and the deputy coughed. The card fell to the floor and remained open, revealing a message.
Meow. Or better yet, meouch! Catch me if you can.
Hmm. As far as taunts went, it wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t great either, which pointed straight to Abigail and her book. Again. Maybe if Jane wrote a comprehensive paper explaining how important it was to sample the rest of Abigail's work, Judge Bowman would finally agree to that warrant?
Her fiancé’s coughing continued, his breathing growing more strained, worrying her. Same with the deputy. Jane stepped toward Conrad, intending to help, but he grabbed the other woman and forced her to back up with him, shaking his head.
“Something’s wrong with us,” he croaked. Color drained from his skin, leaving him ashen. Then the deputy collapsed. Conrad caught her but wobbled on his feet. “Poison maybe.”
What! Everyone around them went still. The killer had poisoned them? A crime Beau and Trick had tried to warn her about!
Had the killer overheard them? No, impossible. Security cameras would have detected someone planting a bug.
Stomach lurching, Jane dove for Conrad just before his knees buckled. She caught him and the deputy, and their threesome fell together. On impact, Jane cushioned him and he cushioned the deputy. Jane didn’t care if she inhaled the powder, too. Anything to help him.
Someone shouted, “Call 911 and get out of the house! Now, now, now!”
Panic swarmed Jane, and she lost sight of reality. Her focus remained on the love of her life. He’d passed out, his eyes closed, his body lax. She checked for a pulse. A cry parted her lips. The too slow beats were barely discernible. What in the world worked this quickly, this way?
Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them back. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. “You wake up and recover, Conrad Ryan. I mean it. You’re in serious danger of losing your casserole privileges forever.”
He didn’t respond. Nor did Deputy Poteet.
The curse laughed, whispering, Told you.
A whimper escaped Jane. Was this her fault? Should she have resisted Conrad’s magnetic appeal? Would he have a better chance at recovery if she called off the wedding? Ended their relationship for good?
She lifted his lifeless hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles as he’d so often done to hers. Whatever the answer, she couldn’t bring herself to let him go.
In an eternity, perhaps a matter of minutes, masked EMTs and firefighters arrived. She recognized Christopher among them. Someone must have briefed them on the situation.
An EMT pulled Jane from Conrad to examine her while two other techs worked on stabilizing his and the deputy’s vitals. Masked paramedics rushed in soon afterward and took over. After Jane was cleared, she could only watch, pray and let the professionals cart off her fiancé. She trailed them outside, intending to follow in Conrad’s SUV. Except, she was climbing behind the vehicle’s wheel as the ambulance drove away, but she didn’t have the keys. He did.
“No!” She burst outside, intending to chase down the ambulance. They’d already vanished. “No, no, no!”
“Jane, are you all right?”
Christopher’s familiar voice hit her ears, and she spun, facing him. He’d removed his mask, revealing a grave expression.
“I need a ride to Pinetum.” Beau or Fiona or Tiffany could come get her, but how long would that take? “Drive me in the firetruck, lights flashing. Please.”
“I can’t do that, but my car is next door at Maggie’s.” He pointed to the driveway, where a brand-new shiny truck sat at the ready. “Give me two minutes to speak with my boss, and I’ll drive you.”
“Okay yes. Thank you.”
Off he went. She wrung her hands as she waited for his return, her mind roiling. Once, she’d wondered if the killer did all this for Christopher. Now, here the fireman was again. Involved. If the killer knew his schedule…
What if Christopher was entangled in another capacity? Though, yes, okay, he’d been doing his job at each scene. Gah! She didn’t know anything anymore.