Robby. Blake. Jake. Something about the photos of those particular guys drew Jane’s gaze, one after the other. What was she missing? What was that niggle in the back of her brain?
She didn’t mean to, but she worked through lunch. Plus her first snack. And the second. Also the third. When she ultimately pulled herself from the sleuthing spiral, she realized she only had an hour to prepare for her date. Worse, she almost burned her fried green tomatoes.
After storing the food in carriers that doubled as plate warmers, she rushed through a shower, dried her hair, and applied a bit of makeup. Rolex watched from the bed as she donned a dark gray pencil skirt every hard-hitting female reporter wore in the comics. And, because she took dressing up seriously, she added a zebra-striped top with a kitty-cat bow. Luckily, she had the perfect black fedora hat. She printed the word “Press” on flowery cardstock and tucked it into the hat’s band.
A knock sounded at her front door. A hard double rap. Conrad! He’d beaten Beau here.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. “Behave,” she told Rolex, rushing to the entrance. Only it wasn’t Conrad on the other side but Beau with his three friends, all big, all muscly, all giving her a once over as if she were on display at a zoo. Muted sunlight framed them.
Might as well get into character. “The name’s Solva. Solva Case from the Headliner. Tell me your biggest secrets, boys,” Jane said with a wink.
Beau looked her over and grinned. “You are…wow.”
Wow was good, right?
“Hate to interrupt, but what’s that I’m smelling?” one of the friends asked. He closed his eyes and groaned. “Is it Heaven? I’m smelling Heaven, aren’t I?”
Beau cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand through his hair, disheveled and sheepish. “Apologies for the knock. I just wanted to see—never mind. We are reporting for duty, boss. Jane, meet Trick, Isaac and Holden.”
“Welcome, welcome. I don’t know what Beau has told you about my hourly rates, but I pay in pennies, dinner, and dessert. I whipped up a little something if you guys are hungry.” Jane sure hoped there was enough chicken and dumplings in the 12-quart pot. Good thing she’d added the three cheese potatoes, garlic green beans, those fried green tomatoes, as well as fried squash medallions, yam casserole, homemade rolls, the two puddings, the whiskey cake and peach cobbler. “Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
She stepped aside. The men filed into the living room, each nodding and mumbling, “Ma’am,” as they passed. And oh good gracious, the foursome took up a lot of space. They all exuded the same high intensity.
Rolex allowed Beau to pass without hissing. His friends did not receive the same courtesy. To her immense relief, no member of the trio seemed perturbed by the ferocious feline.
“Jane,” Beau said. “The door.”
Right. She should close it. She turned—whoa! There Conrad stood, holding the loveliest funeral arrangement she’d ever seen, with white carnations, creamy pink chrysanthemums and delicate peach roses. The stomach fluttering started up all over again. The heart racing too.
He offered her the flowers, and she accepted, hugging the blooms to her chest. Her first bouquet.
“Thank you,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “I love them so much.”
He wore a dark suit, as usual, but he’d added a vest and polished antique cufflinks, giving him a vintage vibe. Perfect in any era. Dashing. Sophisticated. Devastating.
“We’ll be in the kitchen, stuffing our faces,” Beau said behind her.
Jane’s attention remained locked on her date as footsteps flared and faded. She waggled her brows at Conrad. “You said hardened detective, not the world’s sexiest bachelor detective.”
“I thought that was a given,” he deadpanned. His dark gaze slid over her slowly, heating, and her stomach dipped. “You are the world’s most beautiful reporter, determined to write a story on me and get straight to the heart of the matter.”
His words seemed to suggest a thousand things at once, and she struggled to catch her breath. “Let’s put these in water before we go.” She led him to the kitchen, leaving the guys to introduce themselves.
She gave the blooms another hug before placing the stems in Grandma Lily’s favorite crystal vase.
Manage your expectations, Jay Bird. Deep breath in, out. This was a first date, yes, but also a night undercover. Two people who sometimes imagined kissing each other, secretly interrogating a widow and her new boyfriend, while having fun in the process. It didn’t have to be a huge deal.
Head high, Jane faced her guests. Everyone spoke comfortably in relaxed postures and tossed back the fried medallions as if they were candy.
Conrad winked at her, and a white-hot flush spread over her skin. “You ready?”
“I am.” She kissed Rolex, patted Beau’s cheek, and waved to his friends before linking arms with Conrad and heading to his sedan.