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)
“Be quiet and let me think,” Whittington demanded, tension surrounding her like a shield. She may be a killer, but it didn’t come naturally to her.
In a shocking rush of movement, Jane threw back her head, slamming her skull into the PA’s nose. Blood spurted–another bull’s eye. The gravekeeper expertly executed a move he’d taught her, clasping her attacker’s wrist and pushing.
Whittington wheeled backward, releasing the weapon. Conrad wasted no time, hurrying over to immobilize the offender and arrest her. Beau lay mere inches away, glaring and gritting his teeth as he fought to mobilize.
“Radio for an ambulance,” Conrad told an agent as Hightower read Whittington her rights. He checked the vet’s pulse. Strong. Excellent.
The agent finished the radio exchange. “They’ll be here in less than five.”
Good. Very good. He straightened and turned, tenderly cupping Jane’s cheeks. The sweetest relief rained over him. She was alive and well, and nothing else mattered. “You and Beau will be checked out without argument. Once you’re cleared, go home. I’ll wrap up and drive to you. Tonight we talk.”
“Yes, please,” she said, melting against him.
They went silent as they clung to each other. No words were necessary at this time.
When the paramedics arrived, they transported Jane and Beau in one ambulance and Whittington and Conrad in another. Though he didn’t see Jane again, he spoke with the agents who took her statement and learned Whittington injected her with a neuromuscular inhibitor. The kind used in general anesthesia. No lasting side effects. Jane got a gold star bill of health, and his knees almost buckled with the force of his relief.
He also checked on Beau and his ultra-short shorts, who got their own gold stars.
When Conrad was able, he texted updates to Fiona. Mostly complaints about Jane’s expert ability to reach the danger zone, whatever the situation. Her replies helped keep him sane.
Fiona: What do you mean the doctors won’t tell you about Jane, despite your badge? Marry her right there in her hospital room, and they’ve got to tell you everything!
Fiona: Yes, she lacks personal safety awareness but who doesn’t? I seem to recall you agreeing to participate in tonight’s shenanigans. Speaking of, now that the case is basically closed and you’re obviously pursuing Jane hard core, shall I set you a plate at the table tonight? I’m making those pancakes I promised you.
Fiona: Might I give you a bit of advice? Since I’m certain you just said yes, here it is—when she cuts you from her life, and she will, don’t get offended. She’s fighting fear, not you.
He needed to hear more about this curse.
He texted back: Jane says she’s a victim of the Ladling curse. Care to elaborate?
Fiona: If she hasn’t told you then it’s not my place to say.
Conrad figured as much.
Upon Whittington’s medical discharge, he escorted her to the GBH offices, where he oversaw a tearful confession.
“Have you ever loved someone so much you’d do anything to make them happy?” she asked with a sniffle, a protesting lawyer beside her. A woman she ignored. “I never meant to hurt him.”
Her attorney heaved a heavy sigh. “Ms. Whittington, once again I must advise–”
“He ruined everything,” the physician assistant said, talking over her council. The desire to finally explain her side of the story must be too strong to resist. “He made me feel like the only person alive. I’m the one he planned to leave his wife to be with. Me. But all the while he was cheating on me.” Bitter laugh. “And yes, I recognize the irony. The cheater cheated. I could have forgiven him for the infidelity. The others were a means to an end. They meant nothing to him. But I couldn’t forgive his attempt to steal my gold.” Rage sparked in her watery eyes. “I came to this awful town after reading an article about the museum’s exhibit. I did the research and grunt work, and some playboy doctor thinks he can keep my reward?”
So much for cancer research. “Are you saying you killed him after he found gold?” Conrad asked, offering her a tissue.
She accepted and dabbed at her face. “Yes, but only because he deserved it. He was so smug. Thought there was nothing I could do to stop him. Well, I showed him there was plenty I could do.”
The attorney shook her head. “Just tie the whole case up in a bow for him,” she muttered.
“I hit him, and he fell,” Whittington said, powering on. “I tried to clean up the mess as best as I could.”
“You lost the nugget in the process.”
She gave a jerky nod. “It’s mine. No matter where I am, it’s mine. If Jane or anyone else finds it, I want it back. I pieced together the steps taken by the Order of Seven. Me. Not him. Me.”
“I’m sure something could be arraigned,” Conrad said. Or not. “Tell me how you pieced things together.” So he could stop anyone else from doing the same.