Hey! Jane frowned, realizing she and Beau were back on Vermeil Street. They’d stopped next to her car, which she’d parked beside a pole with a flier advertising a Halloween party at Tiffany Hotchkins’s house. Big, bold letters proclaimed, “NO ONE WILL DIE.” Considering the events of the past few months—and Tiffany’s entanglements in them—the widow might be making a promise she couldn’t keep.
Jane humphed. “I think we’re walking in circles.”
Her companion faced her, giving her a genuine smile she loved to see. “This is where we part.”
Oh. Darn him! Was there any better secret keeper in Aurelian Hills than Mr. Beauregard Harden?
With a heavy sigh, she hugged him, careful not to disturb the bag of food. “I hope you have a wonderful day, even though you are currently the most irritating man in the world.”
“I consider that high praise,” he said as she climbed into the hearse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jane made the drive to Med and Care, only to find an empty parking lot. Closed? Why?
She drove to the other clinic, but both Dr. Garcia and Emma were out to lunch. Together?
Frustrated, Jane journeyed to the store to get those groceries for Fiona and the sheriff. Afterward, she would go home, bake, check out Reggie Belfry, and read through Lucy’s correspondence with Tony. The loan officer might not have committed the murder herself, but there was still a chance she’d worked with a partner. Perhaps someone she’d mentioned to the lawyer.
This was a better plan anyway, Jane decided. She would question the physicians tomorrow, armed with new information. After all, Conrad had promised to share what he’d learned from the doctors during their interviews with Agent Hightower.
Her heart thumped against her ribs. Conrad. Their date. A night that would end with raging success or unmitigated disaster.
CHAPTEREIGHT
“Hot off the press. Your only competition is yourself.”
Ashley Katz, The Headliner
At 7:00 p.m. sharp, a hard double knock sounded at Jane’s door. Eek! Conrad was here.
She hadn’t yet chosen a hat. Nothing matched her bright blue and white dress with half sleeves and a flowing skirt. She shouldn’t have spent so much time watching internet videos of Reggie Belfry, but each one had been more fascinating than the last, providing insight into his character.
He was definitely capable of murder. Impulsive. Someone who made lightning-fast, last-minute decisions to use incompatible ingredients. Unwilling to tolerate a single question from those there to help him. A risk-taker who thought of himself as a ladies’ man. How many times had he purred his words and winked at his audience after dishing some wild innuendo? Any errors he’d blamed on his sous chef.
“Behave while Momma is out with Conrad, all right,” she told Rolex, who stretched out on the bed amid the myriad of outfits she’d tried on and discarded. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to fall for him.”
His paw pointed to a headband with a small white bow on the side.
Oh! How perfect. “Thank you, darling.” Stomach in knots, she anchored the headband in place, then made her way to the front door. Her hand trembled as she turned the knob…
And there he was. The city boy slash fairy tale prince of her dreams and nightmares.
He stood on the porch, framed in fading sunlight, a golden halo seeming to shine above his dark hair. The perfectcontrast for the determined gleam in his amber eyes. He’d shaved, yet she detected a shadow of scruff on his strong jaw. A charcoal gray suit fit his broad shoulders and muscular build in the best way.
He absolutely stole her breath. Even better—and worse—he held the most amazing funeral arrangement she’d ever seen. An array of pink, purple and red roses, carnations, and mums, mixed with lighter accent flowers and lush green foliage.
Voice a bit rough, he said, “You are exquisite, Jane.”
A flush burned her cheeks. “Thank you. And you are…all mine. No!” she rushed to correct, even as she imagined dropping into a six-foot hole. “I mean, you are beautiful. No, I mean, you are handsome. A real grade A beefcake. Yes, that’s the phrase I was searching for.”
“I liked your first description best.” He winked and unveiled a genuine smile. “Are you nervous, sweetheart? Don’t be. I won’t bite. Unless you ask real nice.” As she floundered for a response, he laughed and offered her the flowers. “These are for you.”
“Thank you,” she repeated, clutching the bouquet to her chest. “Come in while I gather my things.”
After placing the colorful arrangement in Grandma Lily’s prized crystal vase, Jane displayed the masterpiece on the mantel. Rolex watched her from the couch. He perched at the top, gargoyle style.
She skipped over to give him a scratch behind the ears. More interested in their guest, he leaned to the side to peek around her.
“Remember what we discussed, young man.” Jane padded to her bedroom and snatched up her purse. Her phone rang. Ugh. It was the reporter again, wasn’t it?