Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
He hadn’t spoken much since his return from town, and she hadn’t asked how things had gone. Yet. She didn’t want to worry Fiona with talk of the Incident. The dear woman had enough fodder for stress on her plate ‘o life, considering her boyfriend, Sheriff Raymond Moore, recently suffered a heart attack. The reason for his retirement and Conrad’s plan to take over his job.
Although, since both Fiona and the sheriff had passed the sixty year mark a while back, the term “boyfriend” struck Jane as wrong. Manfriend? Romantic partner in crime solving?
Oh, to be one of the curse-less and fancy free.
Her gaze returned to the rumpled and relaxed Conrad. The gorgeous man hadn’t batted an eye when Fiona arrived. He’d hugged the precious woman like a long, lost grandmother and mentioned his hunt for a place to live. Of course, despite his mysterious “lucky cat” comment, he’d walked away from Jane as easily as he’d walked away from his past relationships. Why care about keeping her all to himself?
I deserve this, I really do. As often as she’d attempted to cut Conrad from her life, he deserved a chance to cut Jane from his. Her just desserts. But honestly, did he have to look so good while serving her tit for tat? He’d exchanged the suit for a bicep hugging T-shirt and worn jeans. Talk about a delicious slice of–
“Hello, hello, hello,” Fiona prompted, waving her hand in front of Jane’s face. “Five minutes ago, you asked me what I know about Opal and Benjamin. I’m guessing you’d like to hear the answer at some point tonight.”
Eek! Caught ogling her roommate! “Yes. Right. So? What do you know?” Fiona and Grandma Lily had grown up with Pops, and the trio had been super close. Both women had been given an open invite to family dinner, ensuring they’d spent quality time with his parents.
“Let’s see. I met the second husband but never Benjamin. I remember Opal being a wonderful mother to your Pops. Very welcoming to Lily and me. Sometimes quiet and sad. She loved telling your Pops stories about his adventure loving father, the incredible Benji. I think she still loved the man even though she had remarried.”
The poor woman. A victim of the curse, forever doomed to live without her true love. Not that “the incredible Benji” had been so incredible after all. “Did Opal ever mention a woman named Elise Dansing? Or better yet, did you happen to meet Elise, Tiffany Hotchkins’s great grandmother?”
“No and no.” Fiona tilted her head to the side, her expression thoughtful. “What’s this about, hon?”
“Jane hasn’t told you?” Conrad piped up, flipping a page of his book. “We’re on a treasure hunt. Among other things.”
Her cherished friend gasped, grinned and clapped. “We are? Oh! How exciting. Tell me everything!”
With pleasure. “I found a journal written by Benjamin, who believed a former gravekeeper did, in fact, bury gold here. On the night of his disappearance, he thought he’d cracked the code and found the stash. And maybe he did. Maybe he ran off with his newfound wealth, abandoning his wife and child.” As well as his (possible) mistress.
“Hmm.” Fiona made tsking noises. “I would agree with you, but I doubt a darling woman like Opal would mourn such a sorry excuse of a man so long. Or speak so highly of him.”
“Well. I don’t think she knew what kind of man he was. He was likely hiding an affair with Elise. Which, as we all know, is the absolute worst crime in the history of mankind. A total betrayal of trust.” Thanks to Lily’s holiday advice, Jane knew her grandmother would agree.
Perhaps, though, Jane’s earlier suspicions had a higher likelihood of success than she’d theorized. Benjamin could have found the gold and met up with Elise, thinking to skip town together. Then Elise killed him, stole his gold, covered up the crime and spent a fortune that rightly belonged to Opal.
“Well I’ll be. A secret affair.” Fiona shook her head, clearly saddened. “What a scoundrel.”
“Agreed. But this particular scoundrel left us clues in his journal,” Jane said. “Tell me if these terms mean anything to you. Ready? Here goes. Wailing milk.”
Fiona pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Mule easel.”
Another shake.
“Sunken ice naps. Island is gall. Inhaled mist.”
Her friend started nodding.
A thrum of excitement sparked inside Jane. “You’ve got something?”
“Maybe.” Wide-eyed, the dear woman set her knitting needles aside. “Island is gall is prodding at me.”
Oh, oh! They needed to strike while the iron was hot. “Team Truth assemble!” she called, pumping her fist toward the ceiling. “We can figure this out together, I know we can. I’ll grab the whiteboard from the office and a couple of markers.”
As she flew into action, Conrad placed a bookmark in his book rather than earmarking the page. Wow. She admired him even more. But that was neither here nor there. In less than two minutes, the three of them stood before the board as Fiona wrote each phrase in bright green ink.