Grinning, she steered Conrad their way to stop the group on their trek toward the podium to check out the gold.
The tall, slender, elegant brunette stuck her nose in the air. “Jane. Everyone else.”
Abigail’s version of a greeting.
“Nice to see you without ski masks,” Jane said, sugar sweet. And, okay, yeah. A part of her might greatly anticipate the confrontation to come.
Landon blanched, rocking back on his heels.
Abigail raised her nose higher. “What are you even talking about?”
Robby bowed up, and the unfamiliar girl on his arm projected confusion. “I hear you were arrested—twice,” he said with a sugar sweet tone of his own. His gaze darted to Conrad, then back to Jane, a layer of his confidence taking a hit. Nervous near the special agent? “Too bad I didn’t get to see you in cuffs.”
A tower of ice, Conrad stayed silent. But then, his glare said everything—and The Robber got the message.
“Yes. Well.” Robby cleared his throat. “You’ve monopolized enough of our time.” He led the group around her, moving deeper into the room.
“He is so guilty,” Jane muttered.
Conrad remained silent, in full special agent mode, unwilling to confirm nor deny.
For the next hour, guests arrived and snacked and mingled, everyone dressed to the nines despite this being a last-minute party thrown by Cemetery Girl. She worried her two-time ex-lawyer Tony and Jake, new fiancé to the wealthy widow, had opted to bail, but they turned up within five minutes of each other. Tony had already imbibed, as evidenced by his red-rimmed, glassy eyes and slightly slurred words. Jake was all smiles at Tiffany’s side.
Blake showed up solo, thanks to an “attendance” payment, courtesy of Beau. He appeared more hopeful than before. None of her suspects seemed to notice him, however.
Jane breathed in and exhaled, preparing for her part in the night’s festivities. This is happening! “Phase two is soon to commence,” she said, nearly giddy by the prospect. The launch of the one-man bachelor auction. This would lead to stage three—searching the vehicles of each suspect.
Someone had driven that thorn apple to her home. That someone might have trace amounts of soil in their trunk. Or an errant leaf. Maybe souvenirs that tied the driver to past crimes. Whatever! Perhaps that someone even kept fake IDs in his glove box or something. Worth a look, anyway, if nothing else.
“No throw downs tonight,” Conrad said, squeezing her hand. “Please.”
“I can’t make promises.”
Amid the throng, Jane took stock. Beau’s friends remained on the podium with the gold, allowing no one to get too close. Beau himself shifted his weight from side to side, surrounded by women of all ages. Fiona bustled about, ensuring the top suspects never ran out of their chosen drinks, planning to steal their car keys as soon as an opportunity arose. Who would suspect a little oldish lady of theft?
Currently Blake sat at a table, observing.
Abigail and Robby remained close to the nuggets, whispering together, crafting an elaborate heist, no doubt.
Tony exchanged words with Hightower. Fishing for information about the case?
Gus danced with his date.
Jake never left Tiffany’s side and, shocker of shockers, he never ceased smiling. How could the widow stand all that fawning? He even followed her to the bathroom, patiently waiting outside the door.
Jane and Conrad circled the room, moving from guest to guest. Witnessing the handsome lawman in his element was kind of amazing. He charmed everyone one-on-one while subtly steering the conversations, which allowed Jane to continue her observations of the couple.
They posed for a picture. Jake kissed Tiffany’s cheek, as usual. Then she struck a new position. Again, he kept his face turned into hers. Another pose, another kiss on the cheek. Okay, that was suspicious, right? Almost as if he sought to avoid photographic evidence of his visage.
His vehicle gets searched first.
Excited, Jane kissed Conrad’s cheek. “I’m gonna start the auction. Whatever happens, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Promise. Okay, bye.” She dashed off before he had a chance to respond. He didn’t know about stage three, and she preferred to keep it that way.
Jane hunted down Charlotte, got the mic, and hurried to Beau’s side. They climbed the dais side-by-side, his emerald eyes spitting fire at her.
His friend, Trick, said, “Nice suit, Sandman.”
Sandman? His military nickname?
The other soldiers snickered.
“You or Fiona better be the one to purchase me, Jane,” Beau softly growled.
“And deprive you of a possibly real romantic connection? No, we aren’t that cruel. Plus, Eunice probably plans to be here tonight.” But she had spotted no sign of the beautiful accountant she knew would be perfect for him. “Bonus. The money you make for this date will allow me to reimburse you for this entire shindig.”
The overhead lights dimmed as soon as they reached the center. Next, a spotlight glowed over them. Conversations died, all attention focused fully on the stage.