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)
Well. Rolex must have mistaken the item for a toy. Silly boy.
Downstairs she went, her belly fluttering. Conrad, Cheddar and Rolex occupied the kitchen. Conrad stood before the stove, flipping pieces of frying bacon in a skillet. The meat sizzled, but so did he. Locks of his thick dark hair were askew. He wore a white T-shirt and dark blue sweatpants. Tattoos decorated both of his arms. Each image looked like something drawn by a child. Stick figures. Unidentifiable animals. A smiling sun, a colorful rainbow, and a puffy cloud.
His biceps flexed with his movements, and Jane fanned her overheating cheeks.
Cheddar sat near his new dad, no doubt praying a bit of bacon fell to the floor. Rolex perched in the centerpiece bowl on the kitchen table, watching their guests with a thousand ideas seeming to churn behind his unwavering glare.
“Good morning, Jane,” Conrad said, tossing her a smile over his shoulder. “My apologies for the racket.”
Dang it. She missed the days he’d called her “sweetheart.”
“Hungry?” he asked.
Her pulse leaped, and she ran her bottom lip between her teeth. “Ravenous,” she whispered. Gah! Get it together, Jay Bird. “Uh. I mean, yes. A little.” She scratched both animals behind the ears before settling in at the counter.
“By the way, I have a contact who was able to dig up an old town newspaper article about your great grandfather’s disappearance.” Conrad cracked a couple eggs into the same pan as the bacon. “There’s not much detail in it. The most interesting part is a quote from your great grandmother.”
Instantly intrigued, Jane leaned over the counter and made grabby hands at him. “Tell me faster!”
He tossed another smile over his shoulder. “I like you eager.” As she reeled over the innocently suggestive statement, he returned his attention to the food and continued, never missing a beat. “She said her husband woke her up in the middle of the night excited about something in the mausoleum. He dressed and hurried off, and she went back to sleep. He never returned.”
“The mausoleum? I’ll return in a jiff.” She jumped to her feet and raced to the back of the cottage. Benjamin’s journal rested on the old desk, right at home amongst the archives of a cemetery dating back centuries. A swift grab, and she was on her way to the kitchen. On the stool once more, she told Conrad between panting breaths, “I remember seeing a passage about the mausoleum.”
While she attempted to skim the pages to find the reference, he finished cooking breakfast, made her a plate and claimed the seat beside her. Not concentrating on him fully proved difficult. He just…he looked so casual. So at home. So perfect.
Why, why, why did the breakup have to be for the greater good?
“As for our other case,” he said after swallowing a bite of eggs. “I’ve got Beau looking into security feed from businesses near the places you parked the day of your car accident. And that’s Professor Ryan’s first lesson in Investigation 101. Never hesitate to delegate a task to a trusted source with a better skillset.”
Ohhhh. Professor Ryan. You get an A for effort. “Delegate, meaning to allow someone else to horn in on my investigation? No, thank you. And that is the first lesson in my class, The Right Way.” She glanced up from the journal. “Well?”
He arched a brow, his amber irises sparkling. “Well what?”
“Aren’t you going to write down my pearl of wisdom? My class has pop quizzes and semester tests.”
Now he snorted. Tweaking the tip of her nose, he said, “Brat.” Exactly what he used to do when they’d dated.
Her chest clenched with longing. Moving on. “I’m not sure I’ll ever believe someone hated me enough to rig my hearse to blow carbon monoxide in my face.” A horror now known as “the Incident.” She’d passed out, crashed, and woken up in an ambulance.
Voice like granite, Conrad told her, “I’m certain I won’t stop until I find the one responsible.”
A dreamy sigh threatened to escape. Focus on the journal. Right. Jane skimmed the pages until…yes! “Here.” The folded note with the list of nonsense. She explained the phrases as she spread the ends and tapped the mention. “Benjamin circled and underlined the words mausoleum and map with three question marks beside each.”
“You want to check out the mausoleum after we eat?” Conrad asked.
Not before? Fine. “A thousand percent I do.” Jane shoveled bites into her mouth, one after the other. Scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and buttery toast. Not bad. In fact, kind of delicious.
And he’s a breakfast aficionado too? How was that even fair to womankind? If he mastered the fine art of blueberry pancakes, the greatest food known to mankind, she would have no choice but to beg him for another chance.
As if reading her mind, he said, “None of my famous cinnamon sugar french toast for you. You aren’t ready.”