He motioned toward the cobblestone path. “Please. Lead the way.”
“Don’t forget what I told you, agent,” Fiona called as they headed into the thick of the cemetery.
“What did she tell you?” Jane asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
“Several things. The most memorable is the threat to castrate me if ever I’m mean to you.”
“Awww.” She pressed her hand over her heart, just as Fiona had done. “How sweet is she?”
“The sweetest,” he deadpanned, and Jane chuckled. “She also offered me a bit of advice.”
“And?” she prompted when he went quiet.
He rolled his eyes. “Vague idea, vague results.”
Her brow wrinkled. “What does that mean? Vague idea about what?”
“What I want.” Did he give her a pointed glance?
Shivers rained over her. Could Conrad be interested in Jane romantically? Despite her name being on the suspect list? Had he been, maybe, jealous of Beau earlier?
The moisture in her mouth dried. Nerves suddenly on overdrive, she changed the direction of the conversation. “Will any of the other investigators be joining us?” Should she make a fresh batch of sweet tea?
“Wanted to check things out before bringing a unit out here.”
Did he think she’d made a mistake? This might be her first murder investigation, and she might not have any formal or informal training, but…she couldn’t remember why this irritated her. Whatever. “What do you know about the fleur-de-lys signs appearing in town?” she asked.
He ignored her question. “Tell me more about the tours you conduct.”
Oh. Did he suspect a guest? Or just hope to refocus her attention? “Do you want to know the different kinds I give? What areas of the cemetery I highlight? A list of those who have recently attended?”
“Everything.”
He, for sure, suspected a visitor then. Now, she did too. Every. Single. One.
“Well.” She cleared her throat to warm up her vocals, getting into guide mode. “In 1829, gold was discovered in the North Georgia mountains. That’s when my ancestors moved here from Pennsylvania. Silas Ladling was certain he would find his fortune panning in the babbling brook that runs between Autumn Grove and Eden Valley. Instead, he wound up finding—”
“Jane,” Conrad said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I don’t require the cemetery’s entire history.”
Oh. How disappointing. Giving tours was her sweet spot. The moment she truly shined. “I’m merely recounting to you what I tell everyone else. If the killer has participated, shouldn’t you hear what he or she—or they—heard? I mean, I don’t mean to tell you how to run your investigation or anything, but this seems like Solving Crime 101.”
Looking as if he stifled a laugh, he nodded. “You’re right. Please do continue.”
She jumped back in without missing a beat. “Trouble. Silas found a whole lot of trouble. He was ready to pack up his family and move on but suddenly, his fortune turned.”
“He struck gold, after all?”
She gave a sad shake of her head. “Unfortunately, no. His luck got even worse. He was shot in a duel. As you can probably guess, duels were outlawed back then. Ladling lore suggests Silas was the first to be buried after Muffin the dog, courtesy of Silas’s eldest son. In fact, it’s believed the first twenty-three burial plots contain men who died because of gold. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Aurelian Hills is mad for the stuff. When Silas’s grandson ran the Garden, rumors spread suggesting his father had hidden gold in some of the coffins.”
“I can’t imagine that was good.”
“No,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Within a matter of weeks, looters raided every grave. If there was gold, it got snatched. Now the Gold Rush Museum is featuring journal passages from different miners who lived back then. I provided a few passages from one of my own ancestors.”
If only she could find a bit of gold. The Garden of Memories could use an influx of cash right now.
Gold. Hmm. The idea poked and prodded at her. Something there? She stole a glance at Conrad, awed as the sunlight turned his skin to molten gold.
“What do you do out here?” he asked. “Exactly.”
“For starters, I inherited caretaking duties from my grandma. Lily.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“Both are gone,” she told him as they rounded a corner.
His rugged features softened. “I’m sorry. I know the pain of losing your family. I was ten when I lost mine.”
Sympathy welled, choking her. “Oh, Conrad. That must have been horrible for you.” Beyond. He’d said family, not just parents. Who all had he lost? “But, um, I meant neither of them live in Aurelian Hills. Or even Georgia, for that matter. They met and had me while in high school. My dad moved to New Mexico instead of marrying my mom. He’s never really been part of my life. My mother wasn’t ready for me either, I guess, so Grandma Lily raised me.”