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“Denise Allen, owner of the Gilded Scissor Beauty Shop. If there were others, we haven’t uncovered them yet.”
Perhaps Jane should speak with the stylist ASAP. She could really use a trim. Considering she’d interviewed and cleared Denise for the last case, requesting an appointment shouldn’t be too awkward.
Conrad gave her nose another tweak. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. Add Allen to your list if you are so inclined, but I don’t think she’s our killer. Barrow and I chatted with her. She dated the deputy a few months, but broke up with him two weeks ago. Said he was obsessed with uncovering the Gentleman’s identity. Apparently, Gunn firmly believed he’d get a string of convictions to catapult himself to the position of sheriff, gaining the power to run me out of town.”
Jane went still. “Deputy Gunn didn’t like you?”
He shrugged, unconcerned, and took a drink of his sweet tea. “Believe it or not, he isn’t the first.”
“Well. Clearly he was a terrible judge of character. The worst! Why, if Garden of Memories wasn’t landlocked, and he’d purchased a plot, I would refund his money and turn his corpse away!”
“Thank you for defending my honor, sweetheart.” The teasing note in his voice sent shivers cascading down her spine. “Barrow and his team are going through the wealth of evidence they found in the deputy’s home. In the morning, he’s interviewing Thomas Bennett. I’ll be there, but out of sight. Since Bennett works at the Gold Star Lounge, I thought you and I could pay him a visit during his shift tomorrow evening.”
A stake out? At one of the ritziest places in town? Excitement exploded like fireworks inside her. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” She had never rescheduled a chance to devour Fiona’s blueberry pancakes, but just this once, an exception must be made for justice.
Conrad smiled at her, and she smiled back, the moment rife with affection. They finished their meal while playfully arguing about the best dipping sauces for french fries. An unfair battle between store-bought ranch and made from scratch jalapeño peach jam. Considering Jane was the final judge, the jam won.
“All right, Miss Ladling. It’s time to relax. No shop talk for the rest of the evening.”
“Deal.”
After storing the leftovers in the fridge and washing the dishes, they returned to the living room. Together they cuddled and watched a fascinating documentary about two bestselling romance novelists who solved a string of crimes aboard a cruise ship. Rolex slept in his tree.
Jane offered her commentary, outlining different motives for every suspect—at first. Conrad was just so warm. And he smelled so good. And her eyelids were as heavy as boulders. And…
The sweet aroma of coffee lured Jane from the best sleep of her life. Stretching, utterly content, she blinked open her eyes. Sunlight poured through a somewhat familiar living room. But it wasn’t her living room. What—why—realization dawned, and she sagged into the couch. Conrad’s bungalow. The move in. Temporarily! Only temporarily.
At some point, Conrad put a pillow under her head and draped a blanket over her lower half. He’d also abandoned ship.
Rolex hadn’t venture off, though. The little trooper perched atop the tree. Hmm. He was peering outside, reminding her of a vet who’d come home from war to find his lady love had died in his absence.
A pot clanged. Ah. Conrad must be in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. The darling man.
She checked her phone and gasped at the time. 7:23. Like, a.m., as in morning? Seriously? When had she ever slept so late? Six messages awaited her. Three from Beau, the rest from Fiona, Tiffany and, huh. Her oldest half sister June. They hadn’t spoken in several years.
June: Hi.
How was Jane supposed to respond to that? She changed her sister’s text name to Juniverse, just because, then regulated the odd greeting to a back burner, to be dissected and returned later.
Fionality: Well? How’d your first night at Conrad’s go?
Jane shot her friend a swift response.
Amazing! But here’s something not amazing. I have to do the hardest thing ever and postpone our pancake dinner. Conrad needs me on a stakeout tonight!
Tiffinator: I don’t really have to walk around the graves, do I???????
Jane had recently changed the widow’s screen name. Eyes narrowing, lips pursing, she danced her thumbs over the keyboard, typing.
YES! Also, I need you to watch Rolex for me this evening.
Better the feline stay with someone he liked, for whatever reason, than spend the evening alone.
Beaudyguard: I’ll pick you up at 8:00 dull.
Beaudyguard: That means I could be a few minutes late. Or early.
Beaudyguard: You probably want to know why I’m picking you up. You hope to speak with Ashley Katz, right?
Of course Jane hoped to speak with Ashley Katz today. A fellow Gunn suspect/file. Wait. 8:00, as in a.m.? Jane scrambled to her feet, gathered the toiletries from her bag, and shut herself in the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, showered, and dressed in a vintage inspired jersey-knit fit and flare emerald dress. Oh no, she’d accidentally packed her beret instead of the picture hat with a dramatic brim perfect for questioning a suspect. Well, there was nothing she could do about it now.
