Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“So it’s not likely the treasure hunt was a cover for an affair.”
“That’s my guess,” she said with a nod. “No one recalled spotting Tiffany Hotchkins, Anthony Miller, Emma Miller, Caroline Whittington, Julian Garcia or Jane Ladling at the display.”
Adorable freckles, big blue eyes and an outrageous hat popped into his mind, stealing his concentration.
Focus on the dead body, not the brunette.
Easier thought than done. Conrad stood, stretching the kinks from his back. “I’m grabbing a coffee before diving into the backgrounds of our people of interest. You want one?”
Hightower glanced at the clock showing 11:11 p.m. “Go home, Ryan. Get some rest. That’s what I’m doing.” She closed the notepad and also stood. “You’ll be no good to anyone if you fall asleep on your feet tomorrow. Trust me, it’s the best way to tick off Randall and earn grunt duty.”
So late already? He’d lost track of time. Though the thought of going home and pretending to rest held no appeal. No matter how hard Conrad tried, he couldn’t sleep. And it wasn’t like he had any family, pets, or plants in need of tending. He had no real friendships outside of Wyatt Murray, his foster brother. But Conrad did have a recording of the Hawks game. That should help pass the time at least. And keep his mind off a charming vision in purple and her menacing cat.
“You’re right. I’ll walk you out.” He escorted Hightower to the parking garage, drove home…and gathered intel all night, the game forgotten. The quicker he solved this case, the sooner he could take a certain groundskeeper to dinner. And serve justice to a cold-blooded killer, of course.
The next morning, Conrad beat everyone to the office. He put investigators to work as soon as they arrived, pushing them to the limit with his demands for information. Where was the autopsy report? Why hadn’t the court orders come in yet?
“You’re grouchier than normal,” his boss remarked after a quick briefing.
“My apologies.” He was gruffer than usual and wouldn’t waste time denying it. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I’m eager to close this one.”
“You always are. What’s different now?”
Miss Ladling’s visage popped into his head once again. “Everything? Nothing?” Only time would tell.
CHAPTER FOUR
Try not to hide your gooey center beneath a hard candy shell. A girl can keep herself from taking a bite for only so long.
–A Gravekeeper’s Guide to Dating
Conrad planned to drive to Aurelian Hills after completing a series of interviews with the doctor’s baby mommas. If he happened to stop by the cemetery, well, that was simply part of his due diligence, right? But only fifteen minutes into the first conference, Barrow knocked over a mug of lukewarm coffee, soaking Conrad’s pants, making him look as if he’d peed himself.
Left with no other choice, he returned home to shower and change. What were the chances the autopsy report came in while he was out of the office?
As he wiped steam off his bathroom mirror, he noticed a missed call on his cell, from a number he didn’t recognize. Mr. Miller finally ready to talk?
Conrad pressed play, only to jolt when a familiar feminine voice emanated from the speaker.
“Hi Conrad. It’s Jane. Jane Ladling. From Garden of Memories.” Pause. “The cemetery.” Pause. “In Aurelian Hills.” Pause. “Where the murder occurred. Ringing any bells? Hello. Um, I’m calling to ask if you’ve made any progress with the case. I haven’t heard from you, but seeing how the crime occurred on my property, I should probably be kept in the loop. Maybe? The crime scene tape is still intact, by the way. Not that I’m double checking every couple of minutes. Okay bye!”
He added her name to his contact list and decided to call her back as soon as he had information he could share. Or his will power failed, whichever came first. But honestly, he couldn’t stop smiling on the inside.
Conrad returned to GBH headquarters to learn the coroner’s report hadn’t come in but Barrow and Hightower had completed the rest of the interviews. Forget the trip to Aurelian Hills. He needed to watch over the recorded feed. Which meant he might be looking at an all-nighter.
Hightower knocked on his door soon after he settled into his chair, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Someone spray painted a fleur-de-lys sign on multiple cars in Aurelian Hills. Many of the owners are associates of our victim.”
“Do you have pictures?”
“I do.” She stepped inside, placing a sheaf of paper on his desk, each depicting an expensive vehicle desecrated with three distinctive neon-blue petals joined at their base. “The quality is grainy because I downloaded the images from the message board the locals use. Good news is, the sheriff’s office is investigating, and we can piggyback off their findings.”
“Any idea why the artist chose a fleur-de-lys?”