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“I didn’t know if the lead would pan out. Brilliant pun intended.”
He appeared far from amused. “I want a copy of any documents you have.”
“Sure. Because you requested so sweetly.” Anyway. “Abigail knew all about the new gold supposedly stashed in my cemetery, and she zeroed in on the clearest shot of the Order of Seven symbol. The same symbol is carved into the caskets of Rhonda Burgundy and Silas Ladling.”
She scooted to the edge of her seat, getting into her story. “Silas Ladling’s son was rumored to be a member of the Order. But he took a devastating financial hit when our mines petered out and gold was discovered in California. In a matter of weeks, Aurelian Hills lost half its population, businesses suddenly without paying customers.”
“And you think, what? That the Order is active again, the members searching for hidden gold?”
“Not necessarily. But Dr. Hotchkins did dabble in hunting gold. You said so yourself. What if he had a partner who found some—outside my land—and didn’t want to share?” It was an angle she hadn’t fully explored because she’d gotten stuck on the doctor’s affairs. An angle she hadn’t abandoned. “To be honest, though, my gut is telling me a scorned lover did the deed.” As Conrad had said, the motive for murder was usually love or money.
“Almost eighty percent of killers are male,” he informed her. “That favors the gold angle.”
“Wow. A woman is as capable and likely of committing a murder as a man. We’re just better at hiding it.” She tried to hide how she relished competing verbally with him. Who was wrong about the murder’s motive, and who would have eternal bragging rights?
He leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head. The glitter of amusement had returned to his irises. “That’s a brave thing for a former suspect to say to an officer of the law during an ongoing investigation.”
“When did I become a former suspect?”
He flicked his tongue over an incisor before admitting, “When you looked at me with those big blue eyes.”
Gah! He needed to shut his sexy mouth. Already Jane feared melting into a puddle of goo. “Am I a former suspect who now qualifies for a tour of the crime lab?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Your thought process fascinates me, but no. No tour. However, when this is over, I’ll exchange a visit of the building for a visit of your mind. I’m taking a vacation and sitting down with you. I will ask questions, and you will answer. For days. We’ll do other things, too, but one way or another, I will learn all of your secrets.”
Mind blown. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught, speech impossible for a moment.
His amusement only intensified. “Go home, Jane. Plan your event. I’ll see you soon.”
She coughed to clear her throat and forced her mind on the matter at hand. Which wasn’t Conrad’s confession. “Right. See you soon.” Too soon. Jane had three days to find the perfect costume with a matching hat, write her script for the tour and spread the word about.
As she stood, she winked and told him, “Don’t forget to buy your ticket and pay your out-of-town fee, agent. You won’t be allowed in the cemetery otherwise.”
“Jane, I doubt anything can keep me away from you.”
Jane reeled all the way home. Not ponder about Conrad’s confession? Impossible. He’d hinted at the big R. At a relationship. Getting to know each other. Spending days and nights together. Developing feelings.
Losing everything.
A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed it back. Nope, it remained. Sweat beaded her brow. Why, why, why did the thought of a murder investigation invigorate her but the thought of caring for someone terrify her? Why couldn’t the Ladling women ever fall in love and be happy? Just for a little while?
Deep breath in. Out. Jane pasted on a smile and offered Rolex his preferred greeting. As he purred, the fear faded, and her mind cleared. So much to do! She checked phone messages, looked over the graveyard trust, then sped through the day’s security feed. All was well at Garden of Memories. Excellent.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she settled into her living room recliner with Rolex and a laptop to post to the Headliner. After several attempts, she came up with, Come one, come all! Take an adults-only midnight tour of the Garden of Memories. Hunt for ghosts...and gold. Glimpse a murder site... Order tickets today! No ticket, no entry.
Along with the reluctant help of Sheriff Moore, Fiona helped spread the word, passing out the new pamphlets Jane printed.
Each day, she grew giddier. Ticket sales climbed beyond her wildest dreams–and consternation. She’d wanted suspects to attend, not everyone in town. Even Tiffany Hotchkins had signed up. And okay, yes, Jane experienced a twinge of guilt when she imagined discussing the doctor’s death with his wife, but sacrifices must be made. A crime had been committed, and someone must be brought to justice.
