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He jolted, as if the words packed a punch. “You’re making a difference in a kid’s life. That’s…nice.”
He sounded genuinely touched. Choked up, even, and affected in a way Jane hadn’t expected.
She opened her mouth to ask something. She wasn’t sure what. A thousand questions bubbled up. Then he turned those dark eyes on her and her mind blanked. Think!
When a guest arrived, a good host offered…come on, I know this one. Drinks! Right. “Would you like some sweet tea, Conrad? Agent? Special Agent Conrad.”
“No, thank you, Jane. And it’s Conrad, remember?”
His voice had dipped, sending shivers down her spine. When his eyelids dipped, too, she gulped. Why this change in his demeanor? What did that hooded look mean? Why were her limbs going weak? Not knowing what else to do, she returned to her rocker.
“And what are you making?” he asked her.
“Mine is also a bunny.” She tapped her toy with the tip of her needle. “Obviously.”
“Ah, yes. Obviously. The ears are quite…noticeable. And the colors…”
“I know! I wasn’t sure pink, orange and red would go together, but the end result is quite stunning.” She examined her adorable creation. It wasn’t finished, but it definitely, without question, looked like a bunny. Maybe. Probably. Possibly an elephant with two trunks. “I’ll make one for you. To remember me by. Or because it’s the polite thing to do. Yes, that one. I’m polite.”
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth curving up ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to deprive a kid of their only toy. Maybe you can teach me to knit so I can contribute to the haul.” His biceps flexed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you think you’ve found the murder weapon?”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up a little. Had he just arranged a future date?
Breathe! “Beau and I discovered a crowbar as we walked the grounds.”
His brows drew together. “Is Beau another pet?”
A pet project, maybe. “Beau is not. He’s the owner of Peach State Security. A long-lost and recently found friend. We went to school together.”
The soldier returned from the bathroom, the three mentions of his name seeming to summon him. He’d splashed water on his face, droplets clinging to his lashes. “That’s me. I’m Beau Harden.”
Conrad looked between them. “You’re staying with Jane?”
“When requested,” Beau replied, nodding. “And when needed.”
The two males faced off, as if sizing each other up animal-kingdom style.
“That is magnanimous of you,” Conrad said.
“Isn’t it?” Beau lifted his chin.
Polite words, and yet tension crackled in the air. Rolex sensed it and hissed at a shadow.
Jane glanced at Fiona, hoping for a heads-up about what was transpiring between the two guys, but her friend was too busy trying not to laugh. She probably believed the two men were fighting over Jane. Which kind of made sense. But also mostly didn’t make any sense whatsoever. Beau didn’t even smile at her anymore, and Conrad sometimes suspected her of murder. Although the special agent did smolder at her upon occasion.
Her pulse leaped. Focus up! Time to step in and take over the conversation.
A little nervous but determined, Jane shot to her feet and stepped in the middle of the pair. “Like I was saying, Beau was with me when I spotted the crowbar. I asked him to stick around in case you needed a statement.”
Conrad wrote the other guy’s address in his notebook and offered a humorless smile. “A statement won’t be necessary at this time, Mr. Harden. You are free to leave if you’d like.”
Oh no. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Beau. Please add every second to my bill.”
“No problem.” Beau gathered his things and left the house. Her determination to find him a girlfriend returned and redoubled. Operation Make Him Smile. He was helping her, so she should help him.
Conrad met and held her gaze, his emotions still erased. “Why don’t you take me to the weapon?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll just be a moment.”
He quirked a brow. “A hat?”
“What can I say? I protect my skin in style.” Jane raced up the stairs.
“Not the purple one. Or the black,” Fiona called. “To be safe, pick none of them.”
Jane rolled her eyes. Fiona had a serious bias against headwear. Now, then. Which one, which one? The yellow. Definitely. To match her dress. The edges were a bit frayed. So what?
She returned to find an empty living room. Even Rolex had abandoned ship. Her guests, at least, had migrated to the porch. Fiona and Conrad chatted in hushed tones. What in the world could they be discussing?
Though Conrad’s expression was harsh, whatever he said charmed the older woman. Fiona smiled and pressed a hand to her heart.
“I’m ready,” Jane announced, stepping outside. Warm air enveloped her, the scent of magnolias as inviting as ever.
He glanced in her direction, his eyes glittering with what looked to be mirth. Seriously, what had he and Fiona discussed?
