Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Another laugh escaped him. Anyone else would have layered those words with sarcasm. Not his Jane. She meant them in earnest. “Goodnight, Jane.”
“Goodnight, Conrad.”
He climbed into his car. His headlights flashed over her as he maneuvered from the driveway. She remained on the porch, a vision sweeter than the tea she liked to serve.
Relationship complications plagued him the entire drive home. Better to deal with his feelings from the start. Yes, he had fallen for her. No, they’d never even gone on a date. No, he didn’t know how she felt about him. Not officially. But he recognized special when it showed up in his life. Why not fight for it? Despite the distance between them. Despite the curse, whatever it was. Finally he could have everything he hadn’t known he wanted. Because yes, he would succeed with her.
Something he’d learned: Never enter a battle thinking you’re destined to lose. Always go in confidant you won’t stop until you win.
He just needed to solve this case. A crime had been committed and a price must be paid. Then he could concentrate on his personal life.
After parking in his condo’s garage, he checked his messages. Ah. A voice mail from Mrs. Miller’s attorney.
“This is Devin Hagger. I’m representing Emma Miller. You want to talk to her, you have to talk to me first. We will not be meeting you bright and early in the morning. But I will accept your apology for overstepping when you call. We can discuss scheduling a formal conference mid-afternoon.”
The guy came across as gruff, but it was nothing Conrad hadn’t dealt with in the past. He knew the hiring of a lawyer meant little in terms of guilt or innocence. When heat turned on and pressure built, human nature sought a strong defense. He just wished people told the truth, whatever the consequences, because it was the right thing to do.
Conrad exited the car and headed inside his home. The quiet space with no character. Not something he’d ever resented… until now. After stripping to his underwear, he got comfortable in bed and opened his laptop to log into the Headliner. It wasn’t long before he lost himself in a tsunami of gold-themed messages.
A little after 4:00 a.m., a notification popped up on his phone. The Garden Girl had just posted photos of—no she did not. But oh, she did. Filling his screen were images of an open casket. With a body inside it. A skeleton with hair, to be exact, dressed in a long black jacket, matching slacks, and a whiteish shirt with a wide, flat lapel. A silk bow circled the corpse’s neck.
She’d actually dug this thing up. Next to the photos, she’d typed: See? No gold at Garden of Memories. RIP Silas Ladling.
Conrad counted to ten. Didn’t help. Comments flooded in. As his blood pressure spiked, he collected screenshots of his top three favorites.
John Langston: Believe Cemetery Girl’s staged pictures? Try again.
Mayor Donahue: You obviously removed the gold before taking those photos.
TripleR: Hahaha good one. Guess what? I’m a pro at Photoshop too.
TripleR then reposted a photo, except his version contained the coffin with gold nuggets spilling from its sides.
Conrad texted the screenshots to Jane before dialing her number. The second she picked up, he grated, “You dug up a body? With help from a certain someone, I’m sure.” Enablers sucked!
A soft intake of her breath, barely detectable. “Why isn’t your first guess looters,” she asked, “since everyone in town has heard rumors about the gold?” Her low volume couldn’t mask her curiosity. “I might have taken photos of their crime. In fact, I might be calling a certain special agent right now to report said crime. But however it happened, I think we can both agree it was my billion-year-old relative, my decision.”
A rough sound escaped him. He’d lose his mind before they ever even went on their first date, and that was a fact. “We wanted to douse the flames of interest in the cemetery, not fan them.”
“The coffin had no gold. Consider the flames doused. You’re welcome, by the way.” The irresistible mischief maker was patting herself on the back, wasn’t she? “You can repay me by opening up my cemetery and removing the police tape.”
He cringed. He’d forgotten to let her know he’d removed it. “First, I planned to call you in the morning and tell you the cemetery is cleared for visitors.” He would have remembered by then. “Second, check out your text messages. I sent you multiple screenshots. Comments from your post.”
Silence stretched between them as she complied. Then a new hitch of breath crackled over the line. “So that didn’t go exactly as planned,” she hedged. To his consternation, she still sounded hopeful. “How would you prove there’s no gold here?”
He hid a groan within a sigh. She might have phrased those last words as a question, but he didn’t miss the iron determination inside them. If that determination merged with her hope…look out world.