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“—the Headliner,” Beau was saying, pulling her from her musings. “It’s there. That’s all I’m saying on the matter,” he added amid the sisters’ protests.
Jane barely stopped herself from patting her friend on the back, so proud of him and his ability to weave mysteries. He kept everyone intrigued while offering nothing in return and—she sucked in a breath. Tony! He was in the ballroom. He’d just approached the bar, entering Jane’s line of vision as he exchanged an empty glass for a full one.
Tony, the lawyer who’d seemed a little too determined to irritate Agent Hightower, to demand the police charge Jane or let her go, was a speed dater. He’d most likely known the victim, and he’d kept the information to himself.
No need to ponder his nickname. Hello, Sir Drinks A Lot.
Once again, Jane reeled, her thoughts whirling. What if the crime had nothing and everything to do with Ana’s research? The killer could have two motives. The last one certainly had.
Tony is buried so deep in guilt, he’ll need a shovel to get out.
The shovel! The key. Her heart leaped. As Fiona continued gossiping with Aubrey, gathering intel, Jane focused on Charlotte. “How do we earn a gold shovel key?”
“What are you even talking about?” Charlotte asked, her nose wrinkling with confusion.
She held up the paper ticket she’d printed. “I was led to believe we’d get a gold key in the shape of a shovel with the price of admission?”
“Girl, where in the world did you hear that? We give our clients a good time, but that’s it. No free drinks either, so don’t ask.”
Had Ana gotten the engraved key from a dater? Jane nudged Beau, then nodded toward the guest list on the table and spoke from the side of her mouth. “Memorize the names.”
She expected him to do some covert maneuvering to steal a couple peeks at the attendees. He simply reached out and snatched the clipboard.
When Charlotte complained, Beau smiled tightly and said, “If one of the other two names is on this list, I’ll let you know. We don’t want you or your guests in any danger, do we?”
“No. No, we don’t.” The other women all but melted. “Good thinking.”
Okay, see? Now that’s how you get things done, Beau!
He scanned every page in the stack. Might as well seize this opportunity. Jane withdrew her phone and stealthily snapped a picture of the names as she pretended to answer a text. Man, if the law ever caught a glimpse of her photo album… Thankfully, they’d only gotten a warrant for the security feed, not her personal device.
Oh, look. Tony had indeed attended several events with Ana.
Jane ground her teeth. “Okay, Beau. We’ve used up enough of the kind ladies’ time.” She stored her phone and plucked the clipboard from his grip. She kissed Fiona’s cheek, then left her behind to finish the information quest and nudged Beau around the table. They entered the dating hot zone.
“Have fun, hon,” Fiona called. “I’ll be in shortly.”
As Jane and Beau stood in the doorway, she scanned the twenty or so other participants who’d already arrived. Her goal was simple: make nice with everyone and figure out who was who. Only forty-nine to go.
“Are you ready to get your flirt on and help keep me out of prison?” she asked Beau, smoothing the skirt of her polka dot dress.
“No.” He offered no more.
She rolled her eyes. “Do it anyway.”
Fiona sidled up to her other side and sighed, as if weary.
“Everything okay?” Jane asked her, immediately concerned. “I expected you to stay with them another five minutes. Minimum.”
“Yeah, another dater stopped at the table and the Berdize fount of information dried up.”
“Well, I for one am glad you’re here. After witnessing Beau’s lackluster performance with our hostesses, we need to give him a few go-to lines sure to impress the ladies. We don’t want him to bomb this golden opportunity.”
Her dearest friend brightened. “You’re right.”
Beau looked between them before pointing a finger at his chest. “I’m the one worrying you? Me?” He hiked his thumb at Jane. “When you’ve got Ms. Mistrust here? I’ll have you know I’ve never gotten a complaint.”
Fiona and Jane burst out laughing.
He frowned, and Jane sobered. “Oh,” she said. “You’re serious.”
Fiona snatched his name tag from his grip and applied the sticker to his chest, telling him, “Look a woman in the eye the entire time she’s talking to you. Except don’t stare. That’s rude.”
He blinked at her. Slowly.
“If the conversation is rolling, go with the flow,” Jane added. “But don’t allow the flow to move too fast. Or too slow. That’s boring.”
A groan left him as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Are you listening, young man? We’re giving you gold!” Fiona wagged a finger at him. “Whatever you do, stick to tried-and-true topics exclusively. They encourage comfortability. But also pepper in unexpected observations to jazz things up. Something sure to dazzle.”
