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)
Conrad groaned.
Whittington rushed over to check on Jane. After a swift evaluation, she proclaimed, “You’ll come, too.”
No. No, no, no. Absolutely not. What did his gravekeeper think she’d be able to do, tagging along with two murder suspects? “I’m sure you’ll recover. I can’t leave until my team arrives.” Where were they? They should have shown up already. “You’ll stay here with me.” Especially if he officially detained her. Which he would absolutely do. Unless there was something wrong with her. An inner bleed she knew nothing about. Had Whittington discovered a problem during that thirty second exam?
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Allow her to suffer with what is clearly a legitimate ailment?” Beau showed him no mercy, only amusement. He jogged over to gently scoop Emma into his arms. “Don’t be so cruel, Conrad. I’ll drive Jane to the clinic. Since she isn’t under arrest, she’s free to go. Isn’t she?”
He couldn’t legally detain her, and he wanted her checked out ASAP. But he didn’t trust Whittington or Miller, who moaned as she woke. On the other hand, he had no concrete proof—yet—of either woman’s guilt.
“She is,” he admitted reluctantly.
Jane beamed a smile at him, not displaying a hint of pain. He pursed his lips.
“I’ll take care of things,” the vet said before starting off with Emma. Whittington followed, with Jane close on her heels. Along the way, she glanced back at Conrad.
He maintained eye contact but stayed put. He couldn’t leave the scene, not with the attorney bound.
Jane raced back, slamming into him. His heartbeat sped up as he wound an arm around her, holding her close.
She kissed his cheek, batting her lashes at him. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“You better be.” Frustration razed his nerves. “I know you consider Emma the killer, and you want to remain by her side. For my peace of mind, stay here.”
“Conrad,” she rasped, flattening her palm to his chest, “you don’t ask a star to stop shining. You make a wish and hope for the best. And Emma isn’t the only reason I’m going.”
How could anyone argue with a woman like this? How? “When this is over, I’m placing you under immediate house arrest. Just see if I don’t. I’ll be your jailer.”
A toothy smile appeared. “Maybe.”
“Jane,” Beau called in the distance, and she gasped, as if remembering another world existed beyond them.
Maybe Conrad did the same.
“I’ve got to run,” she said as he tensed, not ready to let her go. Hesitating, she chewed on her bottom lip. “Listen. Don’t be mad, but I think Caroline is guilty of something major. Maybe murder, who knows? But don’t worry. I’m gonna get answers. Okay, see ya. Bye!” Off she went, leaving Conrad sputtering.
Had he just made a huge mistake, letting his cupcake leave with two women suspected of committing violence? Sweat broke out along his nape. Was she right? And why, why, why did she insist on putting herself in harm’s way? Must get to that clinic as quickly as possible.
Finally, agents and deputies arrived on the scene. Conrad might have trouble corralling Jane, but he had no problem taking control of the situation and spitting out orders. To Hightower, he barked, “Pick two agents and head to Hotchkins’s clinic. Keep your eyes on Whittington, Miller and Ladling at all times.” To another agent. “Take Mr. Miller’s statement and let him go.” Another agent. “Calm Tiffany Hotchkins.” Deputies. “Escort the guests to the parking lot. No one leaves without making a statement.”
A flurry of activity erupted. “Where’s Barrow?” he demanded.
“Still in front of the screens,” a random agent replied.
Conrad hurried to the old business center near the back of the property. His partner had cleared the accumulated knickknacks in the foyer where he’d set up. He’d also dusted. The air smelled of pine cleaner.
“Tell me,” Conrad commanded as he joined Barrow at a makeshift desk laden with equipment.
“Emma Miller accidentally on purpose put herself in front of Tiffany Hotchkins a dozen times, actively attempting to be noticed by someone who was obviously in a daze. Anthony Miller chased after Caroline Whittington, who navigated the cemetery like a pro. I made a judgment call and sent a couple agents after them. She was clearly searching for something. The lawyer lost her once, but hung back as soon as he found her. When the shouts erupted, both headed your direction in a hurry.”
What had everyone searched for? “Why are you still here? What are you looking for?”
“Gold. Jewelry. Something to prove Ms. Whittington has been here before.”
“Show me the feed,” he intoned.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A dry sense of humor will take you far. Maybe even deep into a gravekeeper’s heart. I said MAYBE.
–A Gravekeeper’s Guide to Dating
Barrow punched in a few commands on a laptop and four different panes appeared on the screen, a separate part of the cemetery highlighted in each. He fast-forwarded to the point Caroline Whittington broke from the crowd and discarded her yellow jacket behind a cluster of bushes. No doubt she’d hoped to hide her activities in the darkness.