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“I hope you’re right,” the other woman muttered.

Jane heard the sentiment she didn’t utter: Otherwise you’re destined for the worst heartbreak of your life. As if by habit, a sense of foreboding swept over her.

No! Do not give into fear. That had been her MO for years. If she wanted a different future with Conrad, and she did, she must start making different decisions. And those different decisions started now. Or restarted, since she’d had the same conversation with herself before. But that was the MO of fear—always try to come back.

“You’ll see,” she promised, surprised by the amount of affection washing through her. Affection. For Tiff. Ugh.

They found a parking space right on Vermeil Street. The cold air stole her breath as they emerged and rushed into the eclectically cozy Treasure Room. A tinkling bell and the sweet scent of vanilla greeted them as they stepped inside. Hannah Thorton, the owner, stood behind the counter, mixing different types of tea leaves.

“Tiff!” Hannah hurried over to hug the brunette, strands of her lovely hair slipping from the loose knot on top of her head. “I just made the most amazing blend. I’m calling it Sweetheart’s Delight. Rose petals, dried citrus, and mint with the perfect dash of vanilla.” When they parted, she offered Jane a half-smile and a nod. “Miss Ladling.”

Jane wouldn’t let the cool greeting faze her. After all, the only time she came in lately was to ask questions about a murder. It wasn’t her fault when a homicide pointed her in the shop owner’s direction.

Tiffany took charge. “As much as I’d enjoy catching up with you, we’re here to—”

“See Jessica, I know. Come on. I’ll take you back.” Hannah led them to a tall bookshelf cluttered with jars of dried tea. With a firm push, a portion of that shelf opened up, revealing—

Jane gawked. “There’s a secret room?”

Tiffany crossed the threshold and Jane followed, reeling as she tried to take in everything at once. Bathed in warm light, mystery and intrigue blossomed. Shelves brimming with antique teapots. Delicate cups and saucers lined the walls. The scents of tea, dried flowers and polished wood scented the air. Soft music filtered through the room through unseen speakers, blending with the gentle clinking of a spoon against a porcelain teacup. But the biggest surprise? A window to the other side. Patrons of the secret room had a one-way view into the tearoom. The guests outside had no idea they were being observed. A voyeur’s ultimate pleasure. Fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Hannah said, closing the door to give them maximum privacy.

A million questions flashed through Jane's mind. How had they kept this secret for so long? Who else knew? Did Hannah accept reservations?

Ms. Jessica occupied one of the Queen Anne chairs at the only table, a stunning piece of furniture with intricate carvings that depicted flowering vines. A ceramic vase the color of a moonlit night graced the center of the table, filled with fresh yellow and pink tulips.

After replacing her teacup in its saucer, Ms. Jessica gracefully rose to her feet. The woman could give lessons in elegance. Her hair was a luxurious chestnut and impeccably styled; no flyaways dared break from the arrangement meticulously framing her face.

“Tiff. Darling. I’m so glad to see you.” She kissed the widow’s cheeks, one after the other. A glance at Jane dimmed her smile. “And you are?”

“Jane Ladling, ma’am.” For some reason, she felt the overwhelming need to curtsey. She nearly pinched the hem of her dress before stopping herself. A blush heated her face. “Yes. Well. I’d welcome some tea, thank you.” Gah! Another faux pas. She hadn’t been invited. Even still, she sank into a chair at the table and poured herself a cup.

“Yes, please do. This is my own special blend, created by Hannah just for me.” Ms. Jessica lowered to her own cushioned chair and studied Jane with narrowing eyes. “You’re the cemetery girl who solves crimes.”

“Yes. That’s me. I refuse to stop until I get answers. So let’s get straight to the point.” She sipped her drink, blinked, and sipped again. Oh, wow. Tasty! And look. Sponge cakes, scones and clotted cream beckoned her from a small rolling cart. How had she missed those? Don’t mind if I do. She filled her plate.

Wait. The case! “Did you kill Deputy Gunn to protect your lover, Tom Bennett, from going to jail?”

Tiffany took the seat at Ms. Jessica’s side and propped her head on her hands as if she feared what might happen next. “She’s kidding. Of course she’s kidding.”

Ohhhh. Were they playing good cop, scared cop? Because game on!

Ms. Jessica ignored the widow, remaining focused on Jane. “How dare you besmirch my good character.” Fury emanated from her. “As if I would ever lower myself to consort with a bartender. If you say otherwise to anyone anywhere, I will sue you for defamation. Do you understand?”

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