AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Let’s backtrack to Deputy Gunn and his files,” she said, stirring the beans. “You mentioned Sheriff Moore documenting Gunn’s screw ups.”
“More and more of his arrestees were claiming a set up. The very reason Raymond recommended me for sheriff rather than his own employee.”
“Also because you’re amazing.”
“Well, that too. But his endorsement apparently infuriated Deputy Gunn.”
The timer on the stove rang, indicating the peach cobbler was done. Perfect timing. The dessert would cool as they ate other dishes that were ready to devour.
Instead of placing the food on the sideboard as she had with yesterday’s breakfast, she served from the countertop, spooning a little bit of everything onto Conrad’s plate.
As she settled in beside him, he said, “This is our day off. From this moment on, we are two normal people without a single care. No murder investigation. No campaign. Okay?”
Normal. She could do normal. Jane stored her mental case files and cleaned the office in her mind, then beamed a smile at the man she’d only just realized she loved beyond reason. A shock among shocks she had yet to fully process. “Okay.”
But what did normal people discuss?
Oh! Without case details crowding her brain, she recalled the errand he’d run the morning Deputy Gunn died. Had Conrad, perhaps, done something special for Valentine’s Day? The most magnificent and wonderful and horrifying of gestures because she still hadn’t figured out the perfect gift for him. “We can describe our ideas for Valentine’s Day. You will go first, of course.”
“Of course,” he deadpanned before one of those soft, adoring smiles lifted the corners of his beautiful mouth. “I’m thinking we’ll have dinner and exchange gifts.”
She gulped. How was she supposed to glean any helpful information from such a vague answer? “Yes. Um. Sounds good.” But what was she supposed to do about his gift, dang it?
Jane was still internally agonizing over the gift the next morning as she stood behind a two-way mirror, gazing into an interrogation room, Sheriff Moore beside her.
Hugh Garfield and his lawyer, Barbie Garfield-Johnson, sat on one side of a table. She wore a charcoal suit paired with a lovely lavender silk top. Her shoulder-length brown hair framed a pretty face. Cat eyeglasses completed her look, rendering her the picture of professional sophistication.
In strode Barrow and Conrad, and Barbie’s jaw went slack. To Jane’s amazement, her boyfriend looked no worse for wear after being shot. He wore his usual suit, his bandage hidden beneath his shirt. His color was good, his motions mostly smooth. The biggest difference, he hadn’t shaved. A thicker than usual shadow complimented his strong jaw, and oh, did he knock her socks off.
But she wasn’t here to ogle him. Their day off had ended. Now they worked to solve the case and save her man. If the shooter tried again…
Jane balled her hands into fists. I will burn this world to the ground! After she saved the mascots and members of Team Truth, of course. And maybe Tiffany too. Possibly a handful of others. But no more than that! She’d also salt the land where the culprit lived.
Conrad and Barrow made introductions before settling in at the other side of the table.
“That boy loves you, you know,” the sheriff said, after sipping his cup of coffee.
It was as if her heartbeat skidded to a halted before pounding into a sprint.
“If you’re going to dump him because of some foolish notion that you’re doomed,” her companion added, “do it sooner rather than later.”
Her gaze strayed to Conrad’s handsomely rugged face. Warmth spread through her chest. She swallowed the lump growing in her throat. “I’m not dumping him because of the curse.” She aimed for a neutral tone, but her words came out like a promise. Time to change the subject. “When will they start?”
“Soon. Those GBH agents have a number of tactics up their sleeve, and delay is one of them,” the sheriff replied. “Most people can’t bear it.”
A full minute passed before Barbie cracked. “You’re wasting our time.”
Finally Conrad spoke up. “Let’s get to it then. Tell me about your relationship with Thomas Bennett.”
“I told you,” the elder Garfield griped before his daughter could stop him. “I have no relationship with the guy. I don’t even know who that is.”
“I wasn’t addressing you,” the former special agent said with a cold smile Jane never wished to receive. “I’m talking to you, Ms. Garfield-Johnson”
The younger Garfield blinked rapidly. Oh snap. Had Barbie been a victim of Tom Cat?
Would she spin a story laden with excuses or clam up like the mayor’s team? Earlier, Conrad had interviewed the mayor, his wife, and their three lawyers. But they’d said little and revealed nothing before leaving.
Mr. Mayor had been informed of his wife’s alleged affair, but he’d defended her without batting an eye. Had he already known and worked to cover it up?
