Romancing the Gravestone (A Jane Ladling Mystery 1)

Hats—Negative 2 Million Dollars

The feast—8 Billion Dollars

The View—Everything I own

The Smiles—Priceless

Jane blinked back tears and swallowed. Then swallowed again. When she’d first reconnected with Beau, he’d been unable to relax. So much tension had radiated off the man, it had inspired her quest to find him a girlfriend and a buddy—she planned to set him up with Eunice or Ana. And yet, Jane was the one who’d given him the gift of a smile. Laughter, too. She’d even helped him relax. If she could do it, anyone could.

The fine lines around his eyes were no longer etched as deep. Not constantly, anyway. His spine had softened, no more a rod of unbending steel. This was exactly what she’d dreamed for him. Only better. Because they were friends, and there was nothing better. Ladling didn’t lose friends to curses.

Now, her goal for him shifted. He deserved more relaxation and laughter. He deserved a happily ever after. And Jane could help him find it. With the case solved, that double date might even happen next weekend.

“For your information,” she said when she found her voice. “Time with Rolex is worth at least a million on the plus side.”

He gave her a look that conveyed a clear message: You know better. “I was being generous with the negative million.”

She tried to maintain a stern expression but laughed. “Fine! You’re hired. But this time I am paying you, and you are accepting every dime, and you are not ripping up the checks. The moment you stop taking my money, you’re fired.”

He opened his mouth to argue but changed his mind. “I don’t need the money,” he grumbled.

He didn’t? Well, well. A new mystery to solve. “I don’t care, Beau. No pay, no work. I mean it.”

“Fine,” he said, echoing her agreement.

“Now that that’s settled, why don’t you two go wash up and change into clean clothes. I need a few moments of privacy to add my secret ingredient,” Fiona said, mixing and heating her brown sugar butter syrup in a pot. “Beau, you’re staying the night, of course. Or morning. Whatever. You’re sleeping here. Feel free to raid the closet in the guest room. That’s where I’ve stored Gary’s other shorts.”

His cheeks turned bright red again. “I’m good. As Jane can attest, I always keep spare clothes in my truck.”

She lost track of their conversation as her mouth watered. Mmm. Vanilla teased her nose. Leave the kitchen when she was mere minutes away from tasting pancake heaven? She nearly whimpered, but she followed Fiona’s request anyway. She and Beau stood and shared a soft smile before branching off in different directions. He jogged outside while she flew up the stairs.

During the fastest shower of all time, Jane was careful not to wet her bandage. As the warm water rained over her, she noticed cuts and bruises she must have received during her battle royale with Emma. Aches and pains began to make themselves known too, muscles protesting.

She yawned as she dressed in a soft fitted white tee and flowing pajama pants and stuffed her feet into her favorite house shoes: kitten heads bobbed with every step. Her eyes burned with fatigue, her adrenaline crashing fast. Suddenly she only wanted to crawl under her covers and sleep for days.

Miss those blueberry pancakes? Never! And okay, yeah, maybe she hoped to see Conrad, too. Where was he?

Jane descended the stairs, deep in thought. She’d been separated from the agent for six hours. That was six hours too long! She really, really, really needed to see him again. To burrow against his strong chest and breathe him in. To finally utilize her bragging rights. She’d identified the killer before he had, and she had every intention of rubbing the information in his face.

Fiona had just turned off the burner as Jane soared into the kitchen, unable to stop smiling. Beau had beat her there and already occupied his chair. Rolex hadn’t moved from his spot in the center, glaring at the man who’d invaded his house. Jane stopped, just stopped, and drank in the sight. What a beautiful family. A sight she wouldn’t mind viewing every day for the rest of her life.

And Conrad? Did she want to add him to the picture forever? Would the Ladling curse ever lift?

A knock sounded at the door. A hard double-rap, and her breath caught. Conrad! She would bet hard earned money on it. Who else nearly beat down a door with a simple double tap?

Beau made to rise, but Jane waved him down.