Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Rolex prowled behind the pair, as if stalking his prey, and nothing, anywhere, in any period of time, had ever been cuter.
“Goodnight, ladies,” her roommate called as he led his good boy toward the back door. Did he feel Jane’s eyes upon him?
“Goodnight, Conrad.” She didn’t want to say she watched his backside as he moved off. No, she certainly did not ever want to say it out loud.
“Jane Ladling,” Fiona chided softly, swiping up a ball of yarn and batting it in her direction. “You are stripping that boy with your gaze, and I’m not having it. Not after you broke his sweet, darling heart when you ended things.”
Cheeks red, she forced her attention on her friend. “Yes, ma’am. But, um, I didn’t break his heart. How could I? You’ve seen him. He’s already over me!”
Fiona spread her arms and gaped at her. “Over you? Sweet goodness. How can you see so much and so little at the same time? That man has got himself more feelings than I ever realized. Hello, he’s living in your house and adopted that dog you insisted he needed. I don’t mean to spoil your surprise, but honey, everything he’s doing, he’s doing to win you for the long haul.”
What? No! Surely not. He wouldn’t…she couldn’t… That …that…made no sense! Did it? “If that’s what he’s doing–”
“It is. And I’m rooting for him. Maybe a part of you is too? Tell me you’re reading Lily’s letters, at least.”
“I am. But Conrad isn’t trying to win me.” He couldn’t be.
“He is,” Fiona insisted.
She swallowed a groan. “Well, if he is, he’ll fail.” She would make sure of it. For his own good.
The next morning, Jane planned to sit down with Conrad and chat about things. His intentions. His feelings. The curse. Except, when she woke up at 5:00 a.m. to start breakfast, he and Cheddar were already gone. She checked her phone while brewing coffee. Nothing.
Was he handling the Case of the Heisted Hearse solo? But, but… Why not shoot his new roommate a quick message? If he cared for her at all, he would have texted her, yes? Perhaps they didn’t need to have that chat, after all.
Sighing, she straightened up the cottage and performed her morning rounds. And, yeah, okay, she might have checked her phone a dozen more times. Still nothing from Conrad.
No matter. Jane turned her attention to Benjamin’s list of names. She stopped by all seven gravesites, starting with Samuel Lee, aka mule easel and the first name on the list. Nothing appeared unusual.
Conrad must be right. The names were more than anagrams; they were clues. Clues within clues within clues. But clues to what, exactly?
Could ‘mule easel’ point to artwork featuring a donkey? Hmmm, should she stop by the library or the museum to search? But how would said artwork relate to Mr. Lee, the cemetery or the hunt for gold? Wrong angle?
Perhaps another clue was hidden somewhere around Mr. Lee’s gravesite?
Not knowing what else to do, she cleared wilted and weather-bleached flower arrangements from his plot. What she didn’t do? Consider Conrad and what he might be doing…well, not the whole time.
She moved on to the next grave and the next, doing the same. Thoughts rolling and rolling. Was this a clue? Was that a clue? Hours passed. And oh wow, the sun started sinking low on the horizon, darkness quickly replacing light. She’d spent the day outside, depriving Rolex of the pets he deserved. Less importantly, she hadn’t eaten. And where was Conrad? Why hadn’t he returned from…whatever he was doing?
Streaked with dirt, she headed to the front of the property and closed the gate, barring visitors. Then she aimed for the cottage. Pleasure surged when she spotted the former agent on the porch, waiting for her despite the chilly breeze. He stood, leaning against the banister, wearing faded jeans and a tight, short sleeve T-shirt that revealed his tattoos. He’d always looked amazing in a suit, but casual fried the circuits in her brain.
“You must be freezing,” she said after swallowing a sudden lump in her throat.
He came down the stairs to stand before her. “You’re the one who’s been out in the elements all day.”
She waved her hand. “I’m used to it. When, um, did you get home? Not that I spent the day wondering where you were or anything.”
“A little after five,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.
Her jaw slackened. Hours ago, yet she hadn’t noticed. “Where did you—” Her stomach rumbled, protesting the lack of sustenance. Her cheeks flushed. “Um. As I was saying…uh…” What had she been saying?
“Come on.” He stretched out his arm. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t change his mind and pull away, either. “Let’s feed you. I’ll explain where I was while you eat.”
Unable to stop herself, she slid her hand in his. She only realized what she’d done when his long fingers laced with hers. A total couple thing to do. But disengage? As if. Tonight, she simply didn’t have the strength to fight her attraction to him. She’d resume the battle tomorrow.