No Gravestone Left Unturned (A Jane Ladling Mystery 2)

Maybe if she repeatedly said the word, it’d be easier to accept. Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend.

Her…boyfriend looked from the photos to her face again and again. Nope, not easier. “Do I want to know how you photographed the contents of a dead woman’s purse?” He glanced over toward Beau. “The zoom on Rolex was a nice touch, by the way,” he muttered. “I will be viewing the footage in its entirety before I leave tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Jane began. She didn’t want to get Beau in trouble.

“Tough. It’s happening.”

She heaved a sigh. “Fine.”

Beau shook his head, as if saddened. “You are the worst criminal.”

“Are you saying I’m as bad at committing crime as you are at flirting?” Jane asked with her snottiest tone, earning a snicker from Fiona. “If so, I think I might be offended.”

Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “Moving on. I think we can all agree the Waynes siblings should be questioned.”

“Which Hightower will do,” Conrad piped up. “I think we can also agree Jane shouldn’t do any of the questioning.”

“I believe she should.” Fiona gave him a pitying look. “Considering she and I are co-captains of our team, you boys are overruled.”

Jane blew her best friend in all the world a kiss, then ruined the gesture with a jaw-cracking yawn. Oh, wow. Fatigue was catching up with her.

“All right, time for us to go,” Conrad said, standing.

Everyone helped her clean up and left shortly thereafter; her agent was the last one through the front door, however. He cast her a lingering glance and brushed his fingers against her hand.

“I’m the world’s worst cook,” he told her. “I’ll prepare you a meal one day and you’ll never again worry about falling in love with me.”

“You’d think. But an apron probably makes your muscles pop. How am I supposed to resist you then?”

His lopsided grin was in place as he headed for Beau’s truck. Jane sighed soulfully. Mournfully. Dreamily.

That night, she snuggled Rolex, as usual, but for once, she couldn’t sleep. Her mind stayed busy. Every time she thought of Conrad, which was often, she forced herself to switch tracks and make plans. Plans she executed the next morning, after preparing a cup of Ana’s coffee.

The cold brew specialty blend needed to steep for an extended period, like tea. So, Jane let it steep in a large travel mug as she drove to the Gold Rush Museum. Her second trip to the place in less than two months. Conrad and Beau would protest as soon as they found out, but so what? They were too intimidating to pull this off. Who would open up to them? And also, Jane kind of looked forward to rubbing their noses in her success. But only kind of, so it was okay.

A blast of cool air ruffled her bangs and the brim of her hat as she stepped through the heavy oak doors of the Gold Rush Museum, escaping glaring sunlight and intense heat. Once a courthouse built to impress, now home to the town’s most beloved artifacts. Each year, guides enticed school children to examine the red brick walls for the specks of gold rumored to embed the clay.

She paid for entry, disappointed that neither Abigail nor Robby staffed the counter. During her last visit, she’d noticed a help desk nestled amongst the displays inside. Maybe she’d have better luck there.

Jane made her way down the now familiar portrait covered hallway. The click-clack of her low heels announced her presence, drawing the gaze of other patrons. A mother gathered her two children close, keeping an arm slung over each, as if protecting her cubs from a vicious beast. An older couple drew closer together and whispered.

Oookay. So. Rumors that Cemetery Girl might be involved in another murder had clearly spread.

Jane hardly cared. Truly. Her chest grew tight for a different reason; she just didn’t know what it was.

As she passed the Gold Fever! exhibit, she wondered if Ana had been right. Had Abigail stolen and replaced certain documents? Specifically, the documents Jane had donated. Journal entries from her ancestor’s days in the Order of Seven, a secret society of gold worshippers. Checking out the display would be her next task.

The Waynes siblings first. With four strikes against her, Abigail had sailed straight to the top. (1) Suspected side slice for Dr. Hots. (2) On the hunt for the cemetery’s supposed cache of gold. (3) Disdain for Jane. And (4) Her brother’s connection to speed dating and Ana herself.

Maybe Abigail had acted alone. Maybe her brother had helped her or even led the entire operation.

Maybe the pair were innocent…but probably not.

Jane spotted the help desk, the round stand covered in peach drawings made by schoolchildren. A colorful mural of men mining gold decorated the wall behind it. Oh! Robby staffed the counter.

Jane hurried her pace. He sat alone, perched in front of a computer, his attention focused on the screen. Same thick dark hair she vaguely remembered from their days at school.