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“Are you kidding? Because I wasn’t looking forward to being accused of committing another murder.” Several daters glanced in their direction with wide eyes and slack jaws, and Tony flushed. “Neither of which I committed,” he added at a louder volume.

Exactly what a murderer would say! And exactly what she had said to Agent Hightower. But, in Jane’s defense, she hadn’t committed the crime.

“Let’s say I believe in your innocence.” She didn’t, of course. He now occupied the number one slot, edging out Tiffany and Jake. Also, Jane was seriously considering firing him. But she probably wouldn’t. His pennies on the dollar rate couldn’t be beat. “Why would someone else kill Ana?”

His eyes bugged out. “You met her, right? Always snooping through everyone’s business. Following people around town. Taking pictures. Secretly posting her crackpot theories on the Headliner.”

“I’m still waiting to hear a reason for murder.”

As he sputtered, Jane’s thoughts clung to the Headliner. Ana had posted her theories? “How do you know she posted, if she posted in secret?”

“I saw her do it,” he grated. “And before you ask, it’s not my fault if I accidentally see a screen name over someone’s shoulder. Which is EDTKTT, by the way.”

A new lead! Jane almost bounced in her seat. Before she mixed up the letters, she swiped up her phone and texted the username to Fiona and Beau. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this, either? Or the cops!”

“Like I really want anyone and everyone scouring the app, pretending to be a detective and investigating every rumor, destroying other families,” he said, his tone drier than Jane’s first Thanksgiving turkey without Grandma Lily’s aid.

Murmurs erupted around them, and Jane scanned the tables, curious. A movement at the corner of her eye drew her gaze left—she gasped. Conrad! Her heart rate went from zero to sixty. Well, not zero. She still lived. But if she’d been a corpse, she might have spontaneously resurrected. The special agent had just strolled inside and paused all casual like.

What was he doing here? And why did he have to look so delicious? He wore a dark suit and a blue tie, and an almost-smile. No earthly being could have assembled a more perfect man.

He moved deeper into the room. When he reached an empty table, he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, just as Tony had done. Unlike Tony, he left her drooling. No man had better forearms than Conrad. Strong, with a light dusting of black hair, tattoos on full display. Stick figures, clouds, and awkward houses; images a little kid from his past might have drawn. A well-cared for Rolex rested against his wrist.

She’d never asked about the tattoos, but she’d wondered. Was the artwork created by someone he knew—or had known? If so, why wouldn’t he just say? Would he make her ask? Did he want her to ask? He was so closed off when it came to his past. Although yes, okay. He had tried to talk to her about personal matters at the conclusion of the last case. He might have spilled all then. To be honest, he’d looked ready to spill. Why, why, why had she panicked and shut down the conversation?

His gaze zoomed to her and narrowed, and she jumped to her feet. There was no stopping the action. He seemed to steel himself for a blow before stuffing his hands in his pockets and closing the distance.

When he stood before her, he stopped and traced his gaze over her face. His expression revealed little. But gradually, his features softened, and she could breathe again.

Finally, he gifted her with a lopsided grin. “Have you found the man of your dreams yet, sweetheart?”

CHAPTER SIX

“Rotate a date!”

Happy Corner, New Hampshire - The Old and the Beautiful Mingler

11 Matches Made

Forget fake dating for a case. Forget the case entirely. When Conrad drew her into his arms, Jane drew him into hers as well, thrilling. Oh, how she had missed this man. Nothing beat his strong, comforting embrace.

No, not true. His spicy scent infiltrated her senses. This. This beat everything. She might—might!—have gotten high again. Possibly higher. If he bottled this fragrance, he’d make billions.

“How did you find me?” she asked, a lump growing in her throat.

The look he gave her—baby, please. “Hunting people is what I do.” He offered her a there-and-gone smile. “Also, Beau texted me, keeping me updated.”

He had? Without enlightening Jane? She didn’t know if she should be irritated or delighted. “How can you associate with me tonight when you couldn’t before?” Gasping, she raised her head to peer up at him. “Is my good name cleared?”

“I couldn’t associate with you and remain on the case. I wanted a look at the evidence, so I decided to go with option two.” He threaded fingers in the hair at her nape and rested his other hand on her lower back just as the buzzer sounded. As people got up and shuffled about, Conrad told her, “You are no longer a suspect… at the moment.”

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