No Gravestone Left Unturned (A Jane Ladling Mystery 2)

Uh-oh. Was that...no, surely not. But what if it was a stab of jealousy? Had the Ladling curse already struck? Even though she’d only fallen into like with him? Yep. Definitely only like. Had he already moved on from the two-time murder suspect? They hadn’t spoken since Ana—

“Hey, are you okay?” Billy asked, now wide-eyed. He was staring at her hand...because she was gripping her fork.

Oops. Jane released the silverware and forced another smile. “Please, go on,” she invited, “you were being honest with me.”

He squirmed a bit, and she had to admit she enjoyed his fidgeting. But only a little. Not enough to feel guilty. “No one really expects forever anymore.”

Had Ana searched for her forever, or just her big break?

Thanks to the curse, Jane herself didn’t expect forever from anyone. Except, sometimes—occasionally—she thought she might, maybe, possibly wish to share something meaningful with… another person. No one specific, though. Not that it mattered.

Get this back on track. “Have you enjoyed many, um, fun nights with the other daters?” With Ana, perhaps? Maybe he’d tried something, and the journalist had rebuffed him, and he’d ended her life as a means of getting revenge.

A sheepish grin was his only response before the buzzer sounded. Oh, thank goodness! She had two minutes to move to the next assignment. She hopped to her feet, fork in hand as commanded by the hosts, and detoured to Beau’s table, bending down, getting right in his face. “Why aren’t you talking? You’re just sitting there staring at the girls like some hot, dumb dummy.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “I’m doing what you told me to do. Looking a woman in the eye when she’s speaking.”

Jane dragged in a deep, calming breath. “No woman is gonna spill her secrets with you glaring daggers at her. Just bring it down a notch, okay? Your goal is to look attentive but not too attentive. Really, Beau. At least try. For me.”

Charlotte made a hurry motion at her from the sidelines.

Jane completed the journey to her next table, plopped into her seat, and dropped her silverware, done with it for the night. She couldn’t trust herself not to use it as a weapon.

The man across from her glanced up to meet her gaze. “Hi.” He stole a peek at her name tag. “Jane. I’m Gus. So. Um. Have you, um, attended many of these?”

He wrung his hands, as if uncomfortable. Why? She’d seen him earlier, before the event’s official start. He’d used his smoky gray eyes and chiseled jaw to smoothly charm several ladies. So why be unnerved by the unintimidating Jane? Unless he suspected the reason for her presence—because he was somehow involved in the crime.

Okay, maybe she sometimes believed the worst of people. But in her defense, nearly everyone lived up to the expectation.

“This is my first time to speed date,” Jane said. “My friend Tatiana recommended I come.” Too obvious?

“Tatiana—oh, you mean Ana, right? Yeah. I remember her.” He didn’t miss a beat, going from too nervous back to too smooth. “The pretty redhead. She died, right?” His cheeks flushed bright red. “I mean, I’m sorry for your loss. She dated my friend—small world—and I liked her. Very sweet.”

“Who’s your friend?” She tried for a casual tone. She failed. “Maybe Ana mentioned him.” In her notes.

“Oh. Uh. Robby Waynes. He met Ana here, actually.”

Robby Waynes. Older brother of Abigail Waynes-Kirkland, another former suspect. Which meant the friend was legit—and he too, had a motive for pinning Ana’s murder on Jane. Like the others, Jane had accused his sister of being involved in Dr. Hots’s murder.

“Why did Robby quit coming? At least, I’m assuming he quit coming since he’s not here.” Time wasn’t gonna get the better of her with this date. When you wanted forthright answers, you must ask forthright questions.

“Oh, uh.” Gus got nervous again, shifting in his seat and pulling at his clothes. “Rob’s still recovering from their breakup, I guess.”

“Heartbreak is never fun.” She rested her elbow on the table and chanced a glance Fiona’s way. Her friend grinned from ear to ear as she spoke with a guy Jane’s age. “Ana broke up with him, then?”

“I’m not sure how things went down.”

Truth? Jane shifted her gaze in Beau’s direction—the next “date” in her own lineup. Currently he hosted a lovely brunette who appeared as nervous as Gus sometimes did. And yet, Beau practically ignored the woman, giving her nothing but a nod as he typed on his cell phone.

Well. Taking instruction wasn’t his strong suit. How many times had Jane asked him to cash his paychecks for security work at the cemetery, and how many times had he done it? Zip. Zilch. Zero.

Beau’s date bravely carried on, her voice rising in desperation. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to drive a stick.”