Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
“And you’ll be grounded from my blueberry pancakes for three months, with no hope of obtaining a pardon,” Fiona added with a nod.
He might have whimpered. “Ladies, consider my silence bought and paid for.”
“Good boy.” Fiona patted his cheek.
Trick escorted them to the rental, then disappeared somewhere in the darkness of the lot. As Jane drove along the highway, explaining everything she’d learned from Belfry, she knew Trick followed. And, yeah, okay, it was kind of nice having some muscle at her disposal, should a need arise.
“I bet Beau and his hacking skills can find out who sent Belfry those texts,” Fiona said with a nod.
“They probably came from those burner phones Tony carried.” But had Tony bought both…or had the killer stuffed one in his pocket? Tony could have planned to kill Belfry, while the murderer planned to kill Tony and blame Belfry.
Tomorrow night, Jane might stake out Emma’s home. Or Hagger’s. Or heck, Belfry’s. Which one, which one? The lawyer desperate to assign blame, the widow with a connection to everyone involved, or the chef who couldn’t tolerate any blows to his fragile ego?
Again Jane wondered if two or more had worked together. Was she missing something? Overlooking a key detail? Gah! Hadn’t her gut told her this was a frame job? But who had framed whom? They all looked guilty!
As she parked under a lamp across the street from Peach State Security, Fiona gasped and proclaimed, “What in the world?”
Jane scanned—and gaped. Beau was striding along the lamp lit sidewalk, carrying a protesting woman over his shoulder, fireman-style. He disappeared inside the building a moment later.
Fiona’s mouth opened and closed. “Should we…?”
“Go in and find out what’s going on?” Jane finished for her, already unbuckling. “Yes. We absolutely should.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Risk everything for the win. The alternative? Lose everything.”
Beauregard Harden, security expert
Jane perched beside Fiona on Beau’s couch. Beau and his new lady friend sat in chairs across from them. No one spoke, everyone waiting for someone else to steer the conversation. Jane was a little too busy gawking at the decor.
Things had certainly changed since the vet bought the building. Not the bank of floor to ceiling windows overlooking Prospect Street or the striking open concept loft with trendy and industrial architectural features. Those were the same. The difference came from the additions. A pair of black stilettos by the front door. A stunning beaded scarf tossed haphazardly over one of the kitchen chairs. Multi-colored bras dried on the coffee table. The new girl had been here a while.
With his pale hair sticking out in spikes and his eyes sharp, Beau appeared frazzled for the first time in their acquaintance. The woman, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease. Delighted, even.
The newcomer wasn’t an Aurelian Hills resident. She seemed to be the same age as Jane, and she was beyond beautiful, with long sable hair, flawless brown skin, and rich chestnut eyes.
Was she Beau’s houseguest? Live-in girlfriend? Secret roommate?
Finally, the usually unflappable vet shattered the silence, saying, “Feeling better, Jane?”
“Much, thank you.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Enough of this,” Fiona burst out. “Someone tell us what’s going on this instant or I’m going to throw a nightmare of a hissy fit.”
Beau ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fiona, Jane, meet Sora Khatri, one of the worst people you’ll ever have the displeasure of meeting. Sora, meet Fiona and Jane, two of the best.”
“Hello.” Not the least bit insulted, Sora gave them an adorable two finger wave. Then she smiled with sugary sweetness at Beau. “Do you plan to hold them captive, too?”
“No,” he grated. “Just you.”
Captive? What the what? Was this, like, a fun little game the two love birds played with each other? Because dang. The air fairly crackled with sexual tension.
“Would anyone like a glass of water?” Beau asked, using the same calm, measured tone. “Maybe tea? A juice?”
“What I’d like,” Jane said, glancing between the pair, “is an explanation. Otherwise, I fear I’ll be forced to launch a whole new investigation while Fiona is busy hissying.”
He heaved a defeated sigh. “Miss Khatri witnessed something she shouldn’t. Now, very bad men want her dead. She’s remaining in my care–”
“Custody,” the beauty interjected. “And please, ladies. Call me Sora.”
“—whether she wants to or not,” he continued without missing a beat. “Though I’m praying I’ll be relieved of this duty sooner rather than later.”
His custody? Was he still active in the military or something? Working for law enforcement?
“I don’t want to remain with him, in case anyone is wondering.” Sora batted long black lashes at Beau and smiled again, as if she’d merely commented on the weather. “But I would like that tea, honey pie. Please and thank you.”
Honey pie? Hmm. Should Jane give Conrad a cute endearment? Something like buttered buns. Or hot pants. Tater tot? Sugar snap pea?