Game of Gravestones Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
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Conrad grumbled under his breath, and Beau folded his lips behind his teeth, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Aren’t you, boys?” Fee demanded.

“Yes, ma’am,” the two piped up in unison.

A sense of purpose and unshakable determination washed over Jane. Fiona was right. She must do this. For her friends, and the sheriff. For Team Truth. For the Garden. For the entire town!

Jane kissed the other woman’s cheek. “Rest assured, I will cross any line to accomplish our goal. Nothing and no one is safe.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Conrad said.

Reaching out, she patted Beau’s hand. “Keep me updated. And don’t forget to bring me those crime scene photos.”

“I won’t.” A firm nod accompanied his words.

Conrad piped up again, saying, “And I won’t try to stop you. It’s never done me any good. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Twisting, she focused on her boyfriend. He appeared resigned. Her heart began to pound, and she wasn’t sure why. No, not true. She knew why. She was putting on her big girl panties and canceling their date. This wasn’t the time for romance.

As if he sensed her intention, he slid a strong, calloused hand to her nape and wound strands of her hair around his fingers. To keep her in place? Warmth cascaded down her spine, and her lips parted.

His pupils expanded, spilling over those whiskey-rich irises. “I won’t let you do it,” he rasped with a rough voice. “You aren’t backing out of our date. If the sheriff’s condition has taught me anything, it’s to seize the moment while I can.” He tightened his hold. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. Say yes.”

Tremors invaded her limbs. A dinner. In public. While dressed up. Engaging in flirty conversation. All kinds of romantic. More than being frivolous at a serious time, she risked falling deeper into like with him.

She risked everything.

City boy, city boy, city boy.

Curse, curse, curse.

The Cemetery Maiden and the Prince of Spices.

In the end, she croaked, “Yes.”

CHAPTER SIX

“If kale can be a super food, victory is always achievable.”

Raymond Moore, Sheriff of Aurelian Hills

Jane changed into her most comfortable pajamas and padded to the living room, where she settled on the couch and draped her lower half with Grandma Lily’s knitted throw. A glass of sweet tea waited on the coffee table.

Determined, she opened her laptop. She’d promised to work this case like a boss, and she would. Waste time stewing about the sheriff? No. Worry wouldn’t help him or the investigation. Nor would she consider the gleam of satisfaction in Conrad’s eyes after she’d agreed to go on a first date with him. If she did, she’d start shivering again. Instead, she planned to study the most minute details of the cemetery’s security footage.

“You ready for this?” she asked Rolex as he cuddled up beside her.

He yawned and stretched, flaring the cutest little murder mittens in all the world. She’d take that as a yes.

Very well. “We begin.”

For what seemed both an endless and too quick an eternity, Jane watched two hours of video. As planned, she examined every detail. Took notes. Restarted. Rewound. Rewatched. Fast forwarded. What she learned? Aurelian Hill was more of a hotbed of scandal than she’d realized.

Leo Ewers had kissed the second Mrs. Ewers while the third Mrs. Ewers searched for a game clue at a booth. Resident hoarder Wren Coburn apparently liked to collect items belonging to other residents. Taylor Milton committed the worst offense of all, throwing his trash on the ground, dirtying the immaculate Garden. First a gum wrapper, then a candy bar wrapper, then soda can.

Finally, Jane spotted the beefcake Lucy and Conrad had mentioned. Six feet four of muscles, exactly as advertised, in a stylish 1920s suit. A quick search of the Med and Care Clinic’s website showcased a picture of a smiling Dr. Frederick Price, confirming the beefcake’s identity.

After spending good money to purchase a ticket at the door, the doctor had slinked from shadow to shadow, enjoying nothing. Very unusual behavior, Dr. Price. Of course, his name shot to the top spot on her suspect list.

Why not stop by his clinic after her visit with Mr. Hagger tomorrow and ask a few questions?

Jane scribbled a reminder in her notebook, then turned her attention to Lucy to track the loan officer’s every move. Hmm. She’d left the bank’s booth five minutes and thirteen seconds before the scream rang out. Enough time to rush to the Valley of Dolls and commit a murder?

Emma, who’d worn a dark purple flapper dress and black boa, spoke with Lucy about ten minutes before the loan officer’s mysterious departure. Had Emma searched for a game clue—or had the two women plotted to take out a mutual enemy?

When a group of three clue hunters converged on the stall next to Lucy’s, Dr. Garcia among them, Emma moved on to the booth staffed by Daisy’s, a diner famous for magical chicken noodle soup and the universe’s most delicious hand cut chips. No other sign of Emma or Lucy until after the murder occurred. Neither acted guilty or fearful, only confused.


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