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)
Excited, she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Well, I’ve already worked up multiple motives for multiple people. I’m sorry to say I’ve just thought of one for you. And it checks out. Solidly. The logic is bulletproof.”
The charm of this woman… “Please. Do tell.”
“Picture this.” As if she were on a stage, speaking to a large audience, she waved her hands and announced, “Weeks before the murder, you passed through my town, spotted me, and instantly became obsessed with me.”
So far, her story was plausible.
“You would have settled for any excuse to spend time with me,” she continued, clearly warming up to the tale. “When you couldn’t think of one, you supplied one with murder.”
There was no stopping a burst of amusement. He fought a grin, determined not to encourage this kind of behavior. He’d only be asking for trouble later.
“Your bulletproof logic has a hole,” he said, and she braced, as if expecting a blow. “The day we met is the first I’d heard of your town.”
The tension drained from her. “So you say. We both know murderers can be liars, too. But okay. Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth. That just means you saw my picture online and hired an assassin to provide the alibi.” She gifted him with the coyest smile. “Though I notice you aren’t disputing your attraction to me.”
“I don’t think anyone can dispute my attraction to you, Jane,” he intoned, and her breath hitched. “You’ll be pleased to know I gained permission to share other case details with you. But I won’t be doing so until you agree to stop speaking with people of interest.” He opened his desk drawer and lifted a stack of photos. As her eyes lit, he offered the bounty of visual evidence. “Consider the acceptance of these your agreement.” Bribery. His new plan.
More and more excitement emanated from her as she studied the images. “Wait. The fleur-de-lys. Do you think it’s a decoy meant to distract from the murder? That Dr. Hotchkins was truly hunting for gold at my cemetery?”
“It’s a possibility.” More than a possibility. Needing…something, he stood, moved around the desk, and claimed the chair next to hers. Yes. Better. He leaned closer, ridiculously thrilled when he pointed to a photo of plot 39 and their shoulders rubbed together. “Burgundy’s coffin was suspected of holding gold bricks and raided. She’s mentioned at the exhibit. So are several of your other residents. Maybe the doctor believed a stash of gold was overlooked during the raid.”
She turned pensive before shaking her head. “Like I told you, that rumor has surfaced in the past, but longtime citizens know it’s false. Dr. Hotchkins is—was—a longtime citizen.”
Maybe the people of Aurelian Hills considered the rumor false, maybe not. “We believe he met up with a mistress the night of his murder.” Or a partner. Or both. “But we don’t know which one, only that she was a regular dish—his words, not mine. He tracked those regulars with a coded calendar. We’ve identified some but not all.”
Her nose wrinkled. “How many, um, regular dishes are there?”
“Eight. With an assortment of semiregulars and one-night stands mixed in. From what we’ve pieced together, he used the exam rooms as five-minute motels.”
Jane cringed. No, this woman had no business being on Whittington’s list.
“Was Emma Miller one of the known regulars?” she asked. “Because they were definitely having an affair.”
“Yes. But her alibi checked out.” Kind of. Mostly. He couldn’t get over the fact that she’d lied about the affair. “And so did her husband’s.” Solidly. Unfortunately.
Jane’s pensive air returned, quickly tapering into another bout of excitement. “Give me a chance to study the unknowns in Dr. Hotchkins’s code. If his identifiers reflect traits about the women, I’ll recognize—”
“No. I’m sorry, but that’s out of the question.” While seeing what her one-of-a-kind mind did with the symbols intrigued him, he knew Ms. Randall would never approve. Even now, he walked a fine line with what he shared, giving to get while fishing for info, but he never bent or broke the law or divulged too much.
She gaped at him. “You think I might be a member of his rotation? I assure you, I’m not. The doctor wasn’t my type. Which is unwaveringly single.”
Conrad’s top qualification as well. “Until we’ve successfully identified everyone, I’m not allowed to fully rule anyone out.”
“Why are you sharing any case details with me, then, if I’m still a suspect?” she asked, studying him more closely.
His phone rang, but he ignored it to tell her, “I know how it feels for questions to claw at your mind. I swear I will figure this out. You’ll have your answers. Just give me time. And peace. I’ll work faster—better—if I’m not always worried about you.”
Uh-oh. Pure stubbornness etched itself into each of her features. “I have a better idea.” Chin up, she stood–the epitome of bless your heart. “You learn how to do deep-breathing exercises to control your fear for my well-being, and I’ll continue to aid you.” She flashed a smile sweeter than honey. Nope, nothing natural here. That grin was one hundred percent artificial. “Thanks for the nontour, Special Agent Ryan. Let’s not do it again real soon.” Then she was gone.