Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“Wait.” Fiona pointed to a tree-lined residential street. “There’s Beau. He’s headed straight for us, and he’s got a stack of flyers under his arm. Think he noticed the totally accidental and not at all subconscious error?”
Please no.
Fiona made a funny noise. “Oh, wow. Tiffany replaced Trick.”
“Trick is irreplaceable.” A one-of-a-kind computer whiz. But Beau, a wildly attractive blond giant did in fact walk beside Tiffany Hotchkins, Jane’s nemesis. The elegant brunette looked adorable in a dusty rose knit cap topped with a white and silver pom pom.
Beau said something to the widow, and Tiffany laughed while batting at his arm.
What in the everloving what? Were they flirting with each other? Jane swallowed the sour taste in her mouth and marched toward them, determined to end… whatever this was. The last two men romantically linked to Tiffany had ended up dead or in jail. A fate not happening to Beau, thank you.
The other woman spotted her and waved a flyer as she approached. “Inquiring minds want to know. Did you marry Agent Ryan in secret?”
Gah! Having a nemesis sucked. They always gloried in your mishaps. She and Tiffany had clashed in elementary school, and things had only grown worse from there. Didn’t help that Jane was the one who’d discovered the widow’s philandering husband’s dead body. Or that she’d later connected Tiffany’s fiancé to a murder, exposing the scandal to the whole town.
“No, I most certainly did not,” Jane said in a snippy tone. “Anyone who suggests these handbills say otherwise is being ridiculous.”
“What happened to Trick?” Fiona asked Beau, cutting off any further suggestions of marriage. “He requested a chicken pot pie casserole as soon as we returned to Jane’s cottage.”
“Got a call for a job.” The vet’s delivery held a note of apology, but his expression hinted at glee. “I’ll eat his portion of the casserole, don’t you worry. Not one bite will go to waste.”
Beau owned Peach State Security, and Trick handled all the tech stuff. “Will Tiffany be joining us for lunch?” Jane pushed the words past gritted teeth.
“Oh, yes. Where he goes, I go,” Tiffany answered. Flashing an over-bright smile, she linked her arm through his. “I hired Beau as my bodyguard today. Just in case you were wondering.”
Hmm. According to gossip Jane heard inadvertently, the Widow Hots was broke and desperate for money. When she put her family estate on the market, she’d only added fuel to the rumors. So how could she afford Beau’s services?
“Where is Conrad, anyway?” Tiffany asked, glancing around.
“That is a private matter I won’t discuss.” Because Jane didn’t know! He’d recently moved into a charming craftsman bungalow only minutes from her home. They called each other every morning and met up at least once a day. Today he’d texted instead.
Running some errands. I’ll explain later. Maybe. Before your brilliant mind cooks up twenty different scenarios about what I’m doing, I’ll admit it involves a surprise for you.
What surprise? Finding out had been her next task after the campaign leaflet distribution, which must be put on hold now. “Since the flyers are missing a period after my last name—which is a perfectly natural grammatical error,” Jane rushed to add, “we’re going to gather–”
“Oops.” Tiffany winced as at least fifty of her flyers fluttered away in the wind. The papers—went—everywhere. “I’m sorry,” she said, and yes, okay, she did sound remorseful. “It wasn’t on purpose, I promise.”
With a humph, Jane gave chase, the soles of her winter boots thumping against concrete and grass. She snatched every paper to cross her path while Fiona, Beau and Tiffany grabbed the others.
Oh! There! One determined page flew just out of reach, up the porch steps of a ranch style home, ending its journey trapped against a door.
Realization punched her. Uh-oh.
Jane drew up short. This was no ordinary house; it belonged to Josh Gunn. The competition. She’d avoided the property only minutes ago. No sense rubbing his upcoming loss in his face.
She stared at the single-story modest abode shaped in an L and painted a rich caramel. The sage green door remained closed. No movement in either of the large windows flanking it.
Was a hidden camera recording her every move? More and more people were installing those these days. She knew because she had one, thanks to Conrad and Beau. Would she wake up tomorrow to discover Deputy Gunn had given the feed to Ashley Katz at The Headliner, the town’s most hopping message board and weekly publication. The reporter had it out for Jane.
She could already imagine the article title. Cemetery Girl Six Feet Deep in Sabotage!
A panting Tiffany halted at her side, breath misting in front of her face. “Why are you staring at the door?”
Jane shook her head, jolting from her thoughts and into the present. “Let’s grab the flyer and go.” She reached out and—