No Gravestone Left Unturned (A Jane Ladling Mystery 2)

“Don’t bother me again,” he muttered.

“Okay. See you soon.” She smiled brightly and waved. Time to check the display documents.

Jane navigated the streets of Aurelian Hills, heading home. Her hat rested in the passenger seat, and she sipped the iced coffee. Extremely bitter, almost undrinkable. No wonder Ana hadn’t known her beverage had been laced.

Between drinks, Jane sang along to golden oldies that cranked from a playlist of her Pops’s favorite songs. At each stoplight, she reflected on her next tasks. As soon as she had access to her computer and the journalist’s notes, she planned to:

*Compare the photos she’d taken of the Gold Fever! exhibit with the photos of her donated items.

*Learn everything she could about Blake Crawford, the real estate agent, and Jake Stephenson. (Blake, Jake. Jake, Blake. Was there something there?)

*Crosscheck everything she learned about the pair with the sixteen daters as well as the list of Dr. Hots’s serial bangs.

Interspersed with all of that, she anticipated cuddles with Rolex. Later, she intended to have dinner at the cottage with Conrad, who was staying at Beau’s another night. Although… maybe Conrad would come over early and help her. With the tasks, not the cuddles. He was her boyfriend, so being at her beck and call was kind of part of the deal.

And okay, yes. That usage of boyfriend hadn’t been as difficult as the others. Having a significant other didn’t have to be scary. She would guard her heart. People dated without falling in love all the time. Anyway.

Filled with renewed hope, Jane turned into the cemetery’s driveway. Oh, wow. Um. What was happening to her heartbeat? Because dang. The organ banged in her chest. Raced. Thudded. Sweat beaded on her brow and her upper lip. She panted her breaths. Was she dying? Tripping on more thorn apple? No, the only thing she’d ingested was…the coffee!

This was how Ana had lived on the daily?

Despite being a short distance from home, her most comfortable PJs, and her precious fur-child, Jane felt as if she were coming out of her skin. So jittery, in fact, she’d be calling Conrad and demanding he come over to calm her the heck down.

At the halfway point in the driveway, sunlight glinted off a piece of metal, and her mind screamed, Wrong! As wrong as her body. She knew this land forward, backward, up, down, and inside out. There should be no metal in this section. A loud squeak rang out as she slammed on the brakes with more force than necessary. Perfect timing. A guy streaked with dirt, glistening with sweat and holding a shovel stepped from behind a large, purple-flowered hydrangea bush.

He froze as she rolled down her window to shout at him. The crank usually required great effort on her part. Not today. Somehow, the coffee had given her superhuman strength.

Mr. Shovel lurched into a mad sprint. Off to the side waited a sedan, clogging the narrow drive threading through Autumn Grove.

The front of the vehicle faced her, granting her a good look at the driver. Abigail Waynes-Kirkland leaned over to open the passenger door, allowing Landon Kirkland, her on-again, off-again husband—Mr. Shovel himself—to dive inside. Tires peeled out, smoke rising as the car shot past hers.

Fury rose white-hot and blistering. A fury Jane had never experienced before. Two people had dared to enter her property in broad daylight to dig up a grave and search for gold. Something they would only do if they’d spotted her leaving the grounds—and verified her chief security officer was on a break.

Operating solely on emotion, caffeine, and the heat of a thousand suns, Jane put the hearse in reverse, turned around as swiftly as possible, and gave chase. They thought they’d get away with this? Think again.

Pedal to the metal, she followed the sedan onto the main road. Air gusted through the open window, dancing locks of hair before her face. Her hat flew out, sucked from the seat.

The sedan snaked around a corner, and Jane followed, tires squealing. Had Robby known what his sister planned? Maybe not; he hadn’t attempted to keep Jane close. On the other hand, he could have called the couple and warned them of her return. If Jane had arrived just a few minutes later…

She banged a fist against her steering wheel. Should she call Conrad? He was spending the day with Beau—Beau! He had access to the security cameras. What if Abigail and Landon had entered the house before wandering the grounds, scaring Rolex? Or worse!

Panic replaced fury. As she flew down the street, Jane frantically pressed the screen in her console. Beau had installed it as a surprise when he’d removed the old AM radio. Another task he’d refused to accept payment for.

He answered after two rings. “Hey, what’s up? What’s that noise?”

She screamed over the roar of wind, the words leaving her in a rushing, endless stream. “Where are you and will you please stop whatever you’re doing immediately and tell me if someone entered the cottage and did something unspeakable to Rolex before they dug up a body or I will do murder for real?!”