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)
“I know this tone, Jane.” He’d heard it every time she prepared to whisk him to the brink. “It means you’re already plotting something else.” He’d do whatever proved necessary to out-plot her. Even drive to the cottage and exhaust her with more self-defense lessons. Train until she dropped. “Stop it. Stop it right this second.”
“I think I need to launch a sting operation,” she stated, utterly unfazed. Truly, she sounded giddy.
He tried a different route. A simple, unmistakable negation, leaving no room for argument. “No.” Wait. He was dealing with Jane Ladling here. Better to leave nothing for interpretation. “No sting operation, Jane.”
She rolled into her next statement as if he’d never spoken. “I’ll host a tour, like I’ve done countless times in the past. Business as usual. Except I’ll charge double. Triple!” The giddiness intensified as she warmed up to her topic. “Prices so exorbitant they weed out the merely curious. Only people invested in the case or the gold will pay. And you can’t forbid this, because the cemetery is still cleared for business, yes? Mourners gotta mourn, Conrad.”
Hello, brink, my old pal. Though he hated to admit it, he grated, “Yes. You are still cleared to open your business.” He must talk some sense into her. “What do you hope to learn from this?”
“Who’s interested in the gold or the murder, as previously stated. Who’s interested in the gold, period. If someone attempts to snag the murder weapon. Finally ending the mystery about the gold for everyone in town, making myself and my cat safer. Gaining a chance to look my home intruder in the eye. Revenge. Finding out if there’s someone paranoid enough to double check that no evidence was left behind. Shall I go on?”
He huffed with irritation and grumbled, “How do you make sense?” Whatever. She did. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” But. “Come to my office first thing in the morning. Eight sharp. If I can’t stop your tour, I’ll help you as much as I can.” In fact, he would request a meeting with Ms. Randall at 7:00 a.m. to define his limitations.
“Thank you, Conrad. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Jane’s renewed excitement spilled over the line.
He smiled. He would never not enjoy causing such a reaction from her. “Goodnight, Jane.” He tried to make himself disconnect the call but failed. He wasn’t ready.
Thankfully, she didn’t hang up, either. “Something else you wanna say, Conrad?” A mix of hesitation and anticipation radiated through the phone.
This woman… she was the calm in his chaos. “I’m really glad I met you, sweetheart.”
At first, she said nothing, and he wondered if he’d admitted too much too fast. Then she softly stated, “I’m glad I met you too.”
His chest tightened. No, he wasn’t in this alone. They hung up at last, and Conrad eased against the mound of pillows. Jane…in his office again… wearing a hat… He closed his eyes to savor the image.
The next thing he knew, the alarm on his phone erupted. Conrad bolted upright, confused and dazed. He’d slept two hours uninterrupted? Because he’d felt so close to Jane… whom he would see in only a matter of hours.
He shot a text to Ms. Randall, and sprang from the bed, energized. Today would be a great day.
CHAPTER TWELVE
You should forget to shave some mornings. But only if you want your five o’clock shadow to make you the hottest man alive.
–A Gravekeeper’s Guide to Dating
Conrad strode from Ms. Randall’s office and into his own, now armed and ready for his confrontation with Jane. Mostly ready. She had a way of throwing him for a loop during each and every interaction.
He removed his jacket, freed the top button of his shirt, ditched the cufflinks, and rolled up his sleeves. Then he sat behind the desk, his beloved tattoos on display. His gravekeeper seemed to have a special fascination with them.
Eight minutes and sixteen seconds until her arrival. If she arrived early, as usual. An attribute he greatly appreciated.
To check another item off his to do list, he phoned Devin Hagger and scheduled the meeting with Mrs. Miller for later that afternoon. And no, he did not apologize for doing his job.
Four minutes and forty-seven seconds.
Conrad fished his phone from his pocket and set the device on his desk. A message dominated the screen.
Wyatt: How are things going with hat girl? Better than how things are going with Esme, I hope. She’s my ex-ex-girlfriend BTW.
Hat girl?
What would it take to free Wyatt from his cycle of breakups? For that matter, what would it take to free Conrad from his?
He winced. He had a similar pattern. Only difference was, he never committed. He dated and ditched, sticking to what he knew. Being emotionally unavailable. Afraid of giving pieces of himself to someone he would lose later. Then Hurricane Jane had blown into his life, tearing the blinders from his eyes and ripping off prison doors in his mind, forcing him to face the truth. A relationship wasn’t something to fear but embrace. A relationship meant… more. With Jane, he wanted, needed, what he’d never allowed himself to have. Connection.