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“Not more than a dozen times.”
“So hardly at all.” What sweet progress. “I’d say your medal of bravery needs to be downgraded to a participation certificate.”
He snorted. “Brat.”
“I agree with Jane.” Fiona leveled her fork at him. “You’re growing on the little darling, Conrad.”
“Little darling?” he echoed. “Are you referring to Jane or the hellcat?”
“Both, I bet.” Beau buttered a biscuit. “So. You two met the real estate guy. Do you think he’s the one who stole from Robby and framed Ana?”
“Never in a trillion years,” Fiona burst out. “That poor boy is heartbroken. Ana was wrong to accuse him of a crime he didn’t commit. Wrong I tell you!” She added the last while waving her knife around.
The men stared at the older gal as if she’d grown a second head.
“Fiona is passionate about her opinions,” Jane explained before sipping her sweet tea.
Conrad placed his fork on his empty plate and stared at Jane, then Fiona, then back at Jane. “You’re both adrenaline junkies, aren’t you?”
“Us?” Jane sputtered.
“Who can say, really?” Fiona pushed the platter of chicken closer to him. Her eyes twinkled, making her look years younger and more carefree. The way she used to look when Grandma Lily still lived.
See? This investigation was good for her, too.
“Here’s the real question,” Jane continued. “Did Ana accuse Blake because of false evidence against him or on purpose? If she did it on purpose, I have to wonder if Ana herself is the Savings and Loans Thief–villain name pending–and she blamed Blake to cover her own tracks.”
“And if it was because of false evidence, as I suspect?” Conrad asked, draping his napkin over his plate to signal there’d be no third helping of food.
“Then Ana might not be the Savings and Loans Thief.” Well, that circled back to nowhere fast, didn’t it? “Why do you think Ana is innocent?”
He shrugged. “Robby strikes me as the lying type.”
“Agreed,” Beau said. “Him and everyone else.”
“Don’t you worry. Team Truth will prevail.” Jane shook her fist toward the ceiling. “And Beau, I like where your head’s at—suspect everyone, especially the Waynes. Maybe Robby used Ana to steal Blake’s money, then turned around and blamed Ana for robbing him, a crime no one had committed. Then, when Ana began to figure out the scheme, bam. Bye-bye hard-hitting journalist.”
What was it the real estate agent had said concerning the bank footage? He was there, but not there.
Robby was close in height with a similar hair color. Maybe he’d strolled into the bank pretending to be Blake and simply withdrawn the money. No muss, no fuss. Though why go to so much trouble and risk, putting your reputation on the line for a few, what? Thousand dollars?
Fiona tossed her napkin on the table and stood. “All right, everyone. I believe it’s time to say bye-bye to the leftovers, and get these dishes washed.”
Beau shoved back his chair. “I can handle that.”
“I’ll help him,” Conrad said, only to wink at Jane. “To be honest, I’ll just stand there while he does all the work, so get that dreamy glaze out of your eyes.”
She almost laughed as he walked away.
“What nice young men.” Fiona winked at Jane, as if she had successfully executed a complex plan. “Be a dear and grab the yarn, hon. We’re running dangerously low on funny bunnies for Sunbeam Children’s Home.”
As the boys puttered around the kitchen, Fiona and Jane settled in the living room with Rolex to knit. Fiona occupied her usual chair near the hearth. Jane took the couch for once, hoping a certain someone chose the spot at her side.
“You can’t exchange two nickels for a dime and think you’re rich,” Fiona said under her breath. “And that’s a fact.”
“What does that even mean?” Jane replied with a matching volume. “First bears, now pocket change.”
“You know dang good and well what it means. You keep upping the ante. Soon, play time will end.”
Conrad and Beau strode into the living room, earning hisses from Rolex, who sat on the coffee table. The perfect interruption because she’d had no idea how to reply. Upping the ante?
She held her breath. Would Conrad…
He claimed the spot right next to her. Like, right, right next to her, with no space between them, and draped a muscular arm behind her. His decadent heat poured over her like honey, and her needle slipped on the strings of her half-made rabbit.
“I love that you make these.” A slow smile bloomed on his rugged face, stealing her breath.
A promise lurking in the dark depths of his eyes left her stomach fluttering. “Knitting is what does it for you, huh?” she teased.
“Yes. Who knew?” He leaned closer and tweaked the tip of her nose. “No, my little brother had a toy just like it. A gift waiting on his bed in a group home.” He rubbed at his chin, seeming to get lost in his thoughts and grow a touch sad, which made her chest tighten.
