Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
She gulped. “Um. Exactly.” And how did ‘mule easel’ fit into anything? She scanned the map. Her shoulder brushed Conrad’s, and they both stilled. Her breath hitched. She hurried to the shadows, putting distance between them. “There’s no, um, X marks the spot that I can see.”
“Of course not. That would be too easy.”
Silence stretched as she forced her mind to focus on the matter at hand. “Do you get anything for the phrase inhaled mist? Island is gall? Wailing milk?”
“Let me think for a second.”
“I see Operation Infiltrate is a go,” someone else announced.
The familiar voice registered. Conrad turned as Jane exited the dark alcove. Beau, another dear friend she cherished, towered in the mausoleum’s open doorway. A blond beefcake with a craggily outer shell and a soft, gooey center.
“Hey, Beau.” Jane and Beau had met as children. He’d moved away a few years later, then returned to town as a smoking hot war vet who owned Peach State Security, the company overseeing the Garden’s safety. He must be doing his morning rounds. She smiled and waved.
“Jane,” he said, lifting his sunglasses, revealing piercing green eyes. “I didn’t see you there.”
“What’s Operation Infiltrate?” And why was she just now hearing about it? She preferred to be on the ground floor of every mission, whatever that mission happened to be.
“My move to town and bid for sheriff.” Conrad strode over and plucked the sunglasses from the other man’s grip, then fit the shades on his own face. “What else?”
“Right,” Beau said. “What else?”
They were almost as cute as Rolex and Cheddar. And dang. Bromances must be in the air. When would it be girlfriend season?
“Find anything in the security footage?” Conrad asked the other man.
Beau shook his head. “I didn’t. Jane parked in a blind spot for about half an hour. However, here’s the name of a deputy and the woman he ticketed.” He handed over a folded sheet of paper. “They were parked nearby for fourteen of those thirty minutes. Maybe one of them saw something without realizing they saw something.”
Oh! A promising lead. “Why don’t you two go on?” Jane shooed them both outside before joining them. Standing between them, she shut the mausoleum door. “I’m going to do my own morning rounds and study Benjamin’s journal.” Let the boys handle the vehicular sabotage without her today.
Being Conrad’s friend was a bit tougher than she’d imagined. She could use a break from him. Besides, she didn’t need to hear townspeople speculate about all the reasons someone might wish to harm her.
“Who’s Benjamin?” Beau asked.
“She’ll explain later.” Her new roommate stepped in front of her, blocking her path. The dark lenses hid whatever emotion glimmered in his eyes, but the compression of his lips said plenty. Something had irritated him. “How can you learn my investigative methods—or tell me what I’m doing wrong—if we aren’t together?”
Ah. Okay. She understood his attitude now. Conrad Ryan possessed pride in spades, and he balked at the thought of not paying the agreed upon fee for his room and board. “Fine. I’ll go to town and tag team witnesses with you and Beau.” The vet could serve as a friendship chaperone. “But. From now on, you’ve got to include me in all things Operation Infiltrate. I have skills you know nothing about. I add value to any team, I promise.”
He unveiled a slow, devastating grin. “Deal. Except Beau is busy, so he’s staying here.”
“Busy,” Beau echoed. “So much stuff to do.”
What? They’d be going alone? Just Jane and Conrad?
Forget car accidents, gold hunters, and murder times three. She feared her heart might not survive this.
CHAPTER THREE
French hens are tasty birds. Do you know what else is tasty? Romance. Served on a platter of love and sprinkled with trust and loyalty.
–Lily Ladling’s Holiday Advice for Ladies Cursed in Love
Conrad’s beast of a car roared to life with the push of a button. Used to his boring Georgia Bureau of Homicide standard issue sedan, Jane had almost lost her footing after spotting the sleek, black roadster parked in front of her cottage. The vehicle looked like nothing she’d ever seen before: raw, powerful and utterly unique. He’d once mentioned how he enjoyed restoring old cars. He’d even rebuilt the hearse after the Incident. Had he pieced this beauty together all on his own?
She shouldn’t ask. The less she knew about him the better. Except…
“Did you build this car?” She had to know.
He fiddled with the screen on his dash. “Stella is more than a car.”
Ahh, so Jane had another woman to compete with for his attention. Wait. Nope. You’re single. He’s single. Stella wins this game. “Tell me about her.”
He obliged. Oh, did he oblige. He spent the entire ride into town talking about direct fuel injection and increasing downforce. His enthusiasm was infectious. She caught herself smiling and asking questions about aerodynamics even though she knew nothing about the subject. When it came to cars, the only thing she cared about was whether it had gas. But dang it, did he have to speak of the other woman in his life so enthusiastically?