Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
She chuckles. “You’re gonna choke on that.”
“I know. Bad habit.” I force down the mealy mixture with a few swallows. “I don’t know what to do about him. Garrett and I haven’t had a normal start.”
“No, it’s been an exciting start.” Her eyes flash with wicked amusement. “You’ve put that man through the ringer, and yet he’s still coming back for more.”
That’s true. I was his tiny menace, after all. “It just feels like there’s been too many lies and half-truths.” This latest revelation, courtesy of Uncle Richard, has me perplexed. “Did you know HG is reworking the plans to keep the main building?”
“I heard something about that.”
“Garrett’s the one who pushed for it, but he told me his uncle was forcing him to. I don’t understand why he lied. If he was trying to win me over, the truth would’ve gotten him there faster.”
“Would you have believed him?” She raises a doubtful eyebrow.
“Maybe not.” I’ve been second-guessing his motives from the start, scoffing at his goodwill gestures.
“Sounds like you two need to have an honest-to-goodness reckoning. Put everything on the table and see what you’ve got to work with.”
“I’m good at making jokes and antagonizing people. Having serious, mature conversations about feelings is not my strength.” In the rare case that it happens, it’s because I’m falling apart in a fit of tears. “Besides, he’s not even answering my messages.”
“You’ll figure out a way to get him to listen. You’re awful clever.” The shortbread crumbles on the way into her mouth, sprinkling specks. She brushes them off the table, stealing a surreptitious gaze around to see if Harper is watching. “You know he’ll be in town on Monday for the council meeting.”
“Yeah.” I’m counting down the days. Do I show up there and pin him down? “You still going to fight that variance?”
Her mouth works over her words. “I saw the plans for that condominium. It’s not the worst-looking building,” she admits.
“It’s not,” I agree. “And that park looks nice.”
“I’ll believe that’s happening when I see it.” She jabs the air with her finger, as if warning me not to believe it either, but then her hand falls, as if the fight in her deflates. “I’ll be at the meeting, but I’m not going there to raise a stink.”
An unexpected wave of relief washes over me. For Garrett’s sake, I want him to succeed.
Shirley watches me closely as if sensing it. “But do me a favor—if you talk to him before then, don’t tell him I’m easing off. I’d rather he sweat until the last possible moment.” A wicked cackle sails from her lips.
“That secret, I will gladly keep.” I grin, but my mind is working on overdrive, her words of a reckoning triggering an idea.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“You’re going to this town meeting dressed like that?” Scarlet stares at my all-black ensemble—leather trench coat, wide-brimmed hat, and stilettos to cap off the menacing look—as I stalk through the house.
“I’m not going to the meeting.” I need the time to prepare. “Garrett’s meeting me after.” The relief I felt when he answered my text and agreed to this little rendezvous was overwhelming.
I collect the cardboard box of supplies I started gathering as soon as I hatched this plan.
Scarlet peruses its contents—rubber gloves, Clorox wipes, bleach, black trash bag, handcuffs. “Will I be bringing a shovel to an undisclosed location later?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll see how this goes.” I double-check that the old spare key is tucked in my pocket, and with a wink at my ride-or-die best friend, I flip my collar up and stroll out into the evening.
“Justine?” Garrett’s voice echoes through the long, dark corridor, wariness lacing his tone.
“Back here. Close the door behind you.” Wouldn’t want any surprise visitors this time.
The heavy wooden entrance shuts with a bang, sealing us into the basement of Todd’s old building. Garrett’s footfalls sound along the dirt floor. “How’d you get in here?”
“You think a mere lock can keep me out?” It just so happened that Todd found a spare key when he was clearing out the last of his old office. He hadn’t had a chance to turn it over to HG, and after an hour of me badgering and promising that my intentions were not felonious, he handed it over.
“What’s going on?”
“We need to talk.”
“Right. Look, I know we left things off …” He appears around the wall of crates and falters, his gaze dragging down the length of my all-black outfit. He looks positively delicious tonight, dressed in tailored navy-blue pants and a crisp white shirt. He’s even wearing a tie.
“Take a seat.” I point at the sole chair, the sturdiest of the four.
He surveys the crime scene. “I thought you wanted to preserve this?”
“I saved what made sense.” I snapped a dozen pictures and then tucked the playing cards and ashtray into the cardboard box. The rest, I wiped down. “Apparently, a century-old murder of criminals isn’t high on the museum’s priority list.” The lady I spoke to suggested I drop the furniture off at Goodwill.