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Rolex and Tiffany watched from her bed. The black cat was curled up on the widow’s lap, purring with such force he nearly shook the entire cottage. Jane was overjoyed he’d found love again; his last crush, Cartier, had been taken from him unexpectedly—long story. But did he have to enjoy the attention of his mother’s nemesis so much?

“You’re wearing the wrong dress for the Gold Star Lounge,” Tiffany announced. “You need something that screams money and whispers secret dreams. Preferably tight and black. Zero frills.”

“This dress is perfect for any location.” Jane smoothed her hands down the cotton A-line. She’d purposely avoided her preferred fit and flare style. Which was totally different from an A-line, thank you.

“It’s too cutesy. I mean, really, Jane. You’re wearing smiling hamburgers.”

“Yes, and they are adorable,” she stated, adjusting her pillbox hat with netting the color of ketchup. She treasured this dress. Grandma Lily made it for her. In fact, Jane had an entire section of her closet devoted to the “happy” collection her amazing grandmother had sewed. Smiling pancakes and kittens and hats.

Tiffany gave her a pointed look, as if no other words needed to be spoken. “Why are you visiting the lounge, anyway? The drinks are overpriced, and the food is snobby.”

“Food can be snobby?” Wait. The beautiful brunette might know some of the workers personally. A valid reason to do what she’d previously refused to do and name a name. “Do you know Thomas Bennett, a bartender?”

“Thomas…” Tiffany’s eyes widened. “You mean Tom Cat? The guy who eavesdrops on private conversations because he’s constantly on the prowl for a sugar momma, the older and richer the better?”

“Maybe?” And hmmm. If Mr. Bennett was indeed this “Tom Cat,” he’d had plenty of motive to kill Gunn. Being forced to become the deputy’s CI had probably screwed with his prowling and endangered his life.

Tiffany shuddered. “He’s a creep to the bone. You’re in for a miserable night.”

Miserable while solving a murder with Conrad at her side to watch her do it? Hardly!

A hard double rap sounded at the front door. Jane jolted, her heart leaping. Conrad!

Grinning, she rushed over to give Rolex a scratch behind the ears. “Momma loves you, baby. Never forget that.” Her gaze shot to the widow. “Call me immediately if there’s a problem. And don’t forget he eats dinner at eight. And ten. And sometimes 10:57 on the dot for reasons he’ll explain when he’s ready. Remember, he likes fresh water before, during and after each feeding. Oh! And the volume on the TV should be between twelve and fourteen, never lower and never higher. If he stands at the front door and meows, he wants you to go outside so he can have the house to himself. It’s his private time, and he works hard for it.”

“He’s an extra special good boy, I get it,” Tiff replied, her tone dry as sand. “He’ll be fine, promise.”

“He deserves better than fine.” Jane blew the precious kisses as she backed out of the room.

Once the feline and his crush were out of sight, she drew in a deep breath. Let’s do this.

Down the stairs she went. Conrad waited in her living room. To her surprise, Beau and Isaac were with him. Before allowing herself to gobble up the future sheriff with her gaze, she greeted her friends with hugs.

Beau looked gorgeous in a pair of well-tailored blue pants and a crisp white shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Isaac also stunned in sleek, charcoal gray slacks and a light blue dress shirt, his impeccable style on full display.

As for Conrad… Their gazes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The man stole her breathe. A tailored ivory shirt and black trousers graced his solid frame. From his dark hair to his polished shoes, he radiated confidence.

He slid his baby blues over her, a smile curving one corner of his mouth. “You are a gift.”

She preened, loving the way he looked at her. Anyway. No need to bring love into it. Moving on. Rising on her tiptoes, she kissed his stubbled cheek. He wound an arm around her waist, surrounding her with his warmth and scent. Goosebumps broke out over her limbs.

“Will you be as foolish as our dear friend Beau and ask me to stay home where it’s safe from possible crime bosses and their employees?” she asked, sifting strands of his silken hair between her fingers.

“I will not,” Conrad replied. “I’m a good boy today. I even set up a campaign interview with Ashley Katz, as you so sweetly demanded I do. It’s happening in two weeks.”

“You guys suck,” Beau said with a bona fide man-pout. “Every other case, you told me I needed to learn how to tell Jane no.”

“And I stand by that.” Conrad grinned at her. “I learned to tell her yes.”

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