Twelve Graves of Christmas – A Jane Ladling Mystery Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Novella, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
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She circled the word gall, then tapped it with the end of the marker. “This word is the key.”

Jane’s lips twisted. “No one with the last name of Gall is buried here. I even checked known causes of death to see if gallbladder showed up. Nothing.”

But Fiona appeared unperturbed. If anything, she seemed even more triumphant. “You know that Lily, Pops and I all went to school together. Gary, your pops, loved puzzles and creating codes. All you Ladlings do. I think he was the first kid to earn his morse code badge by the age of nine. On rainy days when we had inside recess, he’d rewrite our names using ciphers or turn them into anagrams. In fact, that’s how he proposed to your grandma. He turned the phrase ‘Marry me, Lily” into ‘My lil ram Rye.”

“Ohhhh. Anagrams,” Jane said, a light beginning to dawn.

Fiona nodded with enthusiasm. “She loved it so much, she tried to turn his name into an anagram. Called him Dray Galling. She didn’t have Gary’s flare, but she gave it her best shot. When you mentioned island is gall, memories started coming to me, since Gall is part of an anagram for Ladling. In case you’re curious, with my maiden name of Drake, Gary dubbed me Adora Knife, which sounds like a bona fide superhero to me.”

Yes, yes, yes! More excitement sparked through Jane, creating an inferno. Everything made so much sense. She kissed the other woman’s cheek. “You are indeed a superhero. And a genius!”

Conrad peered at the board, with his head tilted to the side. “So, we need to figure out which Ladling.”

“One older than Benjamin,” Fiona added. “There are just so many.”

“No need. I’ve already unscrambled the letters.” Jane snatched up the red pen and wrote Silas Ladling on the board. The first person buried in the cemetery.

Grinning, Fiona clapped her hands. “You did it! And on your first try. Seems like there are two geniuses in this room. Three, if we grade Conrad on a curve.”

He snorted. “Funny.”

Jane settled back on her heels, some of her excitement fading. “My immense brain power aside, this is looking like an old mystery already solved. Remember when Beau and I dug up Silas Ladling’s grave after the gold rumors resurfaced again…um, allegedly dug up his grave,” she added for the former agent’s benefit. “There wasn’t any gold in his casket.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean the gold was found. It could mean the names themselves are clues, rather than spots where the gold was stored,” Conrad said.

Oh! “Yes! Of course.”

Fiona’s grin made a reappearance as she patted his shoulder. “Well. Look who just joined the high IQ club?”

Didn’t take Jane long to identify the other names.

Mule easel—Samuel Lee

Barreling dads gin—Dr. Gabriel Dansing. Jane ground her teeth. Another relative of Tiffany’s.

Inhaled mist—Daniel Smith

Wailing milk—William King

Sunken ice naps—Sueann Pickens

Bury handgun rod—Rhonda Burgundy

Fiona’s phone buzzed, and she winced as she scanned her text. “Uh-oh. I promised Raymond I’d check in on him an hour ago. He’s getting antsy. I better go.”

“Yes, of course,” Jane repeated, already shooing her friend toward the door. “Go take care of our beloved sheriff.”

“I feel like things were just getting good, though.” The older lady clucked her tongue before wagging her brows. “Granted, the same can also be said of Raymond.”

With a groan, Jane plucked Fiona’s coat off the hook. Conrad, ever the gentleman, claimed the garment and held it open for the older woman to slide her arms through the sleeves.

Fiona paused at the door. “Oh, Conrad, I just thought of the perfect home for you. My friend Beverly told me that her son, Tucker, is about to sell his house. Can you believe it? Spending three years restoring it to its former glory only to be relocated by his job. Anyway, it’s a 1930s art deco, so it will probably remind you of your apartment in Atlanta. There’s an in-home theater and outdoor kitchen containing a built-in gas grill. Plus a towel warmer in the bathroom and head-to-toe shower jets.”

Lose her roommate so soon? And to the wrong home? “No way.” Jane shook her head. “He doesn’t want to live in a house with a pool. Think of the maintenance. You’d hate that,” she assured him.

Fiona’s hand flew to her mouth to cover a sudden cough.

“Jane’s right. The maintenance,” Conrad said, clearly trying not to grin for some reason. He raised his arms over his head to stretch. The hem of his T-shirt rose over the waist of his low hanging jeans, revealing a patch of his bronze abs.

Mmm. If he wasn’t just the tastiest snack in the house…

He snapped his fingers at Cheddar, who still reclined on the couch, jerking Jane from her illicit thoughts. “Let’s go, boy. Potty then bedtime.” The former agent paused and shook his head in wonder, muttering to himself, “Wow. Not a sentence I ever thought I’d say.” He didn’t wait to see if the dog felt like obeying or not; he simply walked off, expecting the precious to follow. Which he did.


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