Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Jane lifted her nose while easing into her seat. She bit into an admittedly delicious sausage ball and withdrew her cell. “Excuse me a moment. I must send a message and it can’t wait.” After devouring the rest of the sausage delicacy, she texted Beau and Fiona the names she’d omitted from her explanation. Hugh Garfield, Thomas Bennett, Ashley Katz and the Gentleman.
The military vet’s phone dinged first. He glanced at the screen, then blinked at Jane. “These are your suspects?”
Why was his phone not on silent during an official team meeting? Wow. Guess they needed to institute some rules.
“Yes,” she replied just before Fiona exclaimed, “Oh look. I just got your text, Jane!”
She swallowed a sigh. Considering her fellow team members weren’t great at stealth, she might as well continue. “Any details you uncover will be greatly appreciated. But before you start, will you question the neighbor with me, Beau? I promised Conrad I wouldn’t leave your side. Full disclosure, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to use you as a human shield if danger erupts. That was my takeaway, anyway.”
Beau was nodding before she finished her sentence. “You better mean it. If something happens and you don’t use me as a shield, I will forever question our friendship.”
“You guys can’t be serious,” Tiffany cried. “You plan on harassing the victim’s neighbor, accusing him of committing the crime?”
“It’s called investigating.” Jane flipped her hair over one shoulder and stood once again. “But yes.”
Fiona’s dark eyes glittered with mirth. “You two go on and solve the case. Tiff and I will clean up our mess before we head out.”
“Thank you, Fee.” She humphed at Tiffany and grabbed a hat from a side table. As she positioned the lacy creation on her head, she sailed outside with Beau on her heels. “I hope you brought your A game, Bo Bo, because I’m packing heat.”
He groaned. “Tell me you aren’t carrying a gun before Conrad or I train you and get you licensed, Jane.”
She rolled her eyes. “My heat is my skill. Obviously. So what are we waiting for? Let’s do this.”
Only half an hour later, Jane knocked on Mr. Garfield’s front door. Beau stood tall at her side. Thankfully, authorities weren’t stomping around inside Mr. Gunn’s residence, so there was no one to discourage her.
When the owner failed to appear, she rang the doorbell. Finally, Hugh Garfield opened up. He was an older man, with thin white hair, weathered skin and what looked to be a perma-scowl. A nasal cannula plugged his nose, the clear hose leading to a portable oxygen tank.
“What?” he demanded.
Beau offered a friendly smile. “I apologize for showing up at your home without an invitation, sir, but I suggest–”
“No buts,” Jane interjected, certain he planned to suggest the guy pick a new tone or else. “I apologize for showing up uninvited too,” she added as her mind pieced clues together. Sneaking in and out of Mr. Gunn’s house might not have been as easy for the neighbor as she’d assumed. Unless he was faking his medical condition. Or maybe he’d paid someone to do the deed? Hmm. This hitman theory was gaining traction.
Mr. Garfield humphed at the other man, making Jane regret doing the same to the widow, then he wagged a finger at her. “You’re the girl who left that awful flyer. The would-be sheriff’s wife.”
Awful? How dare he!
Beau’s snicker helped her focus-up.
“Hello,” she said, flashing her brightest smile, as if she didn't have a care. “I’m Jane Ladling, the very single owner of Garden of Memories. Well, not single single. Conrad and I are dating. And we’re super serious. Totally exclusive. But—”
“I’m not buying a casket,” he suddenly spat. “Doubt I’m voting for your boyfriend, either. We have nothing more to say to each other.” He stepped back, moving to shut the door in her face.
“I don’t want to sell you a casket,” she rushed out. “And I’m not here to discuss whatever ridiculous reason you have for refusing to vote for the world’s greatest homicide investigator. The only person able to fill Sheriff Moore’s shoes and keep our streets safe. So if you want to jeopardize everyone’s future, that’s on you. I’m here to discuss your neighbor, Josh Gunn, and the tree you share.”
Mr. Garfield paused, his scowl deepening. “You mean my tree. Mine.” He thumped his chest for emphasis and actually shuffled onto the porch, joining her and Beau. “Josh demanded I chop her down. But how can I? She’s my wife.”
Uh…
Beau double-blinked. “Are you telling us you are married to a tree?”
“No. And yes.” Wheezing, the old man wheeled his oxygen tank to the edge of the porch. Once he caught his breath, he waved to a Southern Red Oak, its limbs reaching skyward, the massive trunk covered with rough bark and deep grooves. “When Patty died, our kids had her ashes put in one of those degradable urns and planted here. Josh found out and said I’d turned the entire neighborhood into a cemetery, destroying property values. That Patty haunted him now.”