Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
On the second row: Ashley, Hugh Garfield’s children Barbie and Ken, and Hugh himself. On the final row: the mayor, Jessica, a faceless outline with a cut out of brown hair, and Denise Allen, the ex-girlfriend.
Most of the pictures had come from a driver’s license, a database Gunn had mined for his own personal gain. Did the faceless outline represent the Gentleman? Or did that honor belong to the top hat wearing Oliver Bennett, whose driver’s license photo that must have been issued several years after his death.
But that license hadn’t bore the name Oliver Bennett. It couldn’t. Otherwise Gunn wouldn’t question his identity. So what name had the maybe living Oliver used?
Conrad and Barrow flanked her sides, studying the deputy’s handiwork.
“What do the colors represent?” the special agent asked.
“I’m not sure—yet.” Jane motioned to the photo of Tom’s brother. “But we might have two Bennetts running around town.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thou shall always be ready to provide a witty comeback for every complaint or suspicion.
–Jane Ladling’s Campaign Companion Code
While Conrad and the GBH team doubled their efforts to hunt down the Bennett brothers and unearth the mystery man, Jane picked up Rolex, then Tiffany, and headed to Fiona’s. Her thoughts refused to settle.
Was Oliver alive? Was he the Gentleman? Had Jane discarded every credible theory during her investigation to pursue duds? Barrow considered the case solved. He believed Thomas and Oliver worked together to kill Deputy Gunn, who had discovered their secret. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Her gut remained silent.
And what about BOSS? What did those different colored yarns mean? Green, as in monetary connection? Red might point to passion and romance. There was a crimson string linking Jane to Conrad, after all. Only, there was also a crimson string connecting the brothers. So, a blood tie? Except, Jane and Conrad weren’t related, thank goodness.
Maybe the colors meant nothing? Deputy Gunn could’ve used what he’d on hand, and they all represented the same thing. But why were there multiple strings connecting the same people, just in different colors?
Argh! Had anything ever been as frustrating as this case?
“Earth to Jane,” Tiffany said from the passenger seat, petting Rolex as he soaked up the attention. “Okay if we finally go in?”
She blinked, the present world overtaking the mental one. Goodness gracious. How long had she sat behind the wheel of the hearse, parked in Fiona’s driveway without uttering a word or moving a muscle?
“Yes, yes, of course,” Jane rasped. “My apologies for the delay, baby.”
“Oh, no need to apologize to me.” Tiffany kissed the top of Rolex’s head. “I’d wait forever to see Fiona.”
Um… “I was obviously speaking only to Rolex.”
“We both know that’s not true,” the widow replied primly. “Oh! Is it okay if I have Jessie over for breakfast tomorrow? She isn’t mad at me anymore!”
“It wouldn’t matter if she was.” Why did Tiffany like such an uppity person? “She isn’t a true friend. You know that, right?”
The widow gave Rolex another kiss. “I do know that, yes. But she’s a power player in this town, and I need her on my side if I’m going to rise from the grave that has become my life and succeed.”
“Well, making true friends might be a better place to start.” What would Jane do without Conrad, Fiona and Beau?
“I hear you, okay? Now enough heavy stuff. Let’s go enjoy the day.”
They exited the vehicle, entering the cold. Fiona opened up and welcomed them inside with a bright smile. They hugged and settled in the living room, where their amazing hostess had set up an array of delicious snacks, drinks and knitting supplies. Rolex plopped down between Jane and Tiffany’s feet, as if he couldn’t choose between them.
Was Jane being punished? Had she inadvertently insulted her precious fur-child? Forgotten third breakfast or fourth dinner too often?
“Eat up, ladies,” Fiona said, motioning to the refreshments–mini quiches, pigs in a blanket, cucumber sandwiches, veggie spring rolls and meatballs. “First, we eat and chat about Jane’s problem, then we focus on our task.”
A groove formed between Tiff’s brows. “What’s Jane’s problem?”
Might as well answer for herself. “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, remember?” Cupid’s Jubilee. Love Fest. The big V. “But I still haven’t gotten Conrad anything.”
“This again?” The widow groaned. “Get a trench coat, get naked, and get busy. Boom. Done. Problem solved. He’ll be putty in your hands.”
While Jane sputtered, Fiona laughed and clapped. “While that will be a magnificent birthday gift once they’re married, it lacks something for a holiday that celebrates emotional commitment. No, Jane, Conrad means more to you than any other man, so perhaps give him the best gift you can.”
The moisture in her mouth dried. “What do you mean?”
“What else?” Smiling sweetly, Fiona handed them both a sweet tea. “Your heart. Open it up to possibilities.”
“Oh, Fiona,” Tiffany said with a sigh. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted anyone to give me. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” A teasing light entered her eyes. “If Jane has an open heart to give.”