Chapter 6

"That's different," Conrad said, staring at the rollaround board Jane wheeled into her living room.

Rolex meowed loudly, as if to agree.

"Thank you." Jane had spent the night building her characters and drafting an outline for her novel, doing far more than she'd expected. "I brainstormed everything that will happen in my book except the ending, outlined the cast and even crafted the most sublime setting. And it's all brilliant, if I do say so myself."

Conrad's eyes got big as he looked over her notes. "Your plotting reminds me of your casework. A mental connect the dots inside a maze scattered throughout three different dimensions."

"Thank you," she repeated. "I've realized solving a murder and plotting a book are pretty much exactly the same. Suspect everyone of everything. Except…"

"Go on." He handed her a cup of coffee.

Breathing in its fresh scent, she stared hard at the board. The list of questions. The lines and arrows. "I mentioned my lack of ending. It must be perfect. But who's the real killer? How do I write the big reveal?"

He kissed her temple. "If there's something I'm certain of, you'll figure it out."

Warmth spread through her. She'd also penned chapter one. After having an in-depth conversation with a tree, a hotshot detective who'd never let a dead client down stumbled upon five bodies. The words had flowed from her as easily as breathing.

Conrad motioned to a list of questions she'd written, reading aloud, "What's the killer's endgame? Why is Grave Actually heroine the ultimate kill? Revenge? Fun and games? Prison rules in action? The ole defeat the town's greatest expert sleuth to prove you're the hottest new murderer in town? What should I serve guests at the wedding reception? Is a blueberry pancake feeding station possible?" He turned to her, the corners of his mouth lifting. "You've mixed your personal life with the case."

She blinked tired, burning eyes and hid a yawn. "Yeah, I think that happened around three in the morning. Things began to mesh."

"Your dream of a blueberry pancake feeding station is absolutely possible. It's our wedding day. You should have whatever you want."

No words in the English language had ever sounded so wonderful tied together. "Fiona will already have so many duties as matron of honor." But was Jane certain Fiona was her first pick for matron of honor? Gah! She didn't know. Something held her back, but what?

"Drink your coffee." Conrad's happy command pulled her from her thoughts. "I'm meeting Maggie Johnson this morning, and you're coming with me. We're partners today."

"You just don't want to let me out of your sight," she said, stretching. He'd been uber protective since she'd discovered the card in her vehicle. After showing up with a deputy to collect it, he'd asked a ton of questions, then assigned an officer to drive by her residence for the rest of the day. But this worked out in her favor. Actually meeting with Maggie via police business was better than making an appointment to service the hearse.

"I plead the fifth," he replied.

As she took her first gulp of morning perfection, she noticed her phone on the coffee table. A line of texts filled the screen.

Oh! Beau must've sent what he'd learned about Maggie Johnson. Jane returned the mug to Conrad and swiped up the phone to read. Whoa. Beau wasn't her only messenger.

"I need five minutes," she muttered, scrunching her features. "I'm a popular girl today."

"You're a popular girl always. But don't concern yourself with me. I'm highly entertained watching your expressions." He was grinning as he sipped from her mug.

Why Guy: I know you're busy, that's why I'd like to come up this weekend. Conrad mentioned camping is out, so the three of us need to sit together and talk all things wedding parties. Boundaries, that sort of thing. It's no problem, I'm happy to do it. Yay!

"Wyatt wants to stay with you this weekend," she muttered. "Or us, since I sorta moved in. He's eager to learn our boundaries for the bachelor party."

Conrad scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'll speak with him."

Jane canted her head. "What are our boundaries for the parties?"

"Sweetheart, I'm not interested in a farewell party for my single life. My celebration begins after I make you mine."

Good answer. Honestly, it was as if he'd stepped straight out of a romance novel. Maybe they could do a joint event? She was grinning as she read the next message.

NewsKatz: Come on. Let's meet up. You want this tidbit, trust me, and I want the scoop.

Jane's lips pursed. "Ashley Katz claims she's got info on Hannah. I'm setting up a meeting for us. Does today work for you?"

"Sure. Make it for ten."

Type, type, type.

Jane: All right. This morning. 10. But this better be good!

Next order of business.

Tiffinator: You know what will really make your wedding invitations stand out? Adding shakers. I can picture it now. A flower or something behind a little window, with sequins and teeny tiny beads. Maybe even tiny bells. Wedding bells. Get it?

Oh, good heavens.

Jane: I think it's time for you to start dating again. And you've come to the right person for help. Other people's relationships are my sweet spot. Let me solve this case, and I'll find your ideal match. Be thinking of your must haves in a SO and nothing else.

Next.

Fionality: I've been considering your bestselling story. What if you add a ghost? I did a little search and I'm pretty sure the paranormal stuff is super-hot right now. If not a ghost, berserkers. Yes, yes, I'm loving berserkers more and more. Or double down and go with a ghost berserker.

"Do you have any desire to meet a ghost berserker?" Jane asked Conrad as her brows drew together.

He rubbed his fingers over his mouth. To hide a grin? "In what capacity?"

"A fictionalized nonfiction autobiography slash cozy mystery slash true crime slash rom-com slash paranormal romance. Never mind, I know how to respond."

Jane: Done!

She envisioned it now. In chapter two, that ghost berserker would emerge from the talking tree and help the hotshot detective piece the clues together. And then, a slow-burn love story would unfold…

Next.

Beaudyguard: Where's that chapter? I got the goods. Do you?

Dang him!

Jane: Fine. Just remember, this is a rough draft.

"I need a couple more minutes. Beau is forcing me to send him the chapter I wrote last night," she told Conrad, kneeling in front of the couch to power up her laptop.

"CC me. For the case." Conrad took another drink of coffee before sauntering off, whistling the rest of the way.

"You boys are incorrigible," Jane admonished, but she did include him in the email.

Once sent, she shot her friend a new text.

Jane: I emailed you. Pay up!

The text arrived only seconds later.

Beaudyguard: Margaret "Maggie" Selene Johnson is a twenty-seven y.o. mechanic who co-owns Golden Gears Auto Shop with her brother. Co-workers refer to her as "the Breaker of Lanes." Reviews are a mix bag. The good ones praise her straight-forward manner, the bad seem to come from those who asked her out and got turned down. She's been a member of the book club for six years.

She sounded interesting, and not at all like the rich jetsetters Abigail usually preferred.

Although Maggie was a business owner. Perhaps she made enough money to garner Abigail's interest.

Mulling over the information, Jane hurried through a shower and dressed in a casual, pale rose A-line dress with a hem that skimmed her knees. Once again, she forewent a hat. And once again, Conrad had breakfast prepared when she exited. Avocado toast with poached eggs. He was such a wonderful man.

After they'd eaten their fill, they hopped into his SUV and drove to Golden Gears. The building had been refurbished from Aurelian Hills's first filling station, retro signage evoking a sense of nostalgia. Classic gas pumps flanked the parking lot entrance. Four large service bays were equipped with vintage-inspired rolling doors. Past them, skilled mechanics utilized state-of-the-art diagnostic machines and equipment.

"Is this a good cop, bad cop situation?" Jane asked as they unbuckled.

He softly chucked her under the chin. "This is an I talk, you listen situation."

Fair enough. "Well, do us both a favor and remember my cover. I'm Jane, the future bestselling author now."

"Got it." He exited and rushed around to open her door.

They headed inside. Conrad flashed his badge to the man behind the counter. "We'd like to speak with Maggie Johnson."

The guy paled but nodded, led them into an office, and mumbled, "I'll go get her." He closed the door on his way out.

Only a few minutes later, a short, curvy brunette with arms sleeved in tattoos and smears of oil on her cheek strode in. She wiped her hands on a rag and peered between Conrad and Jane with big, blue eyes. "May I help you?"

Jane did a double take. Minus bangs, the mechanic epitomized the murderer described in the killer's manuscript. Same dark hair and crystalline eyes. She thought Conrad might have performed a double take too.

Surely Maggie wouldn't be foolish enough to describe herself? Or maybe she'd done it to throw off suspicion?

"May I help you?" the mechanic repeated, taking a seat behind the desk.

"I'm Sheriff Conrad Ryan, and this is AHPD consultant Jane Ladling. We're investigating the murder of Hannah Thorton."

No mention of Jane's authorly endeavors, but it hardly mattered. She preened under the "consultant" description.

"I understand you're a member of the Golden Page Book Club scheduled to meet at Ms. Thorton's shop this past Saturday at ten," he said.

"I am." Maggie's shoulders rolled in. "It's pretty tragic, what happened."

"It is," Jane concurred. "I was slated to speak to the group that morning."

Her brows knitted together. "No. That's not accurate. I help Jacob Thacker, our club president, line up our speakers. We discussed approaching you, but no matter how much I wished otherwise, he ultimately opted to go another route." She winced, adding, "Sorry."

"No big deal." Big deal! Obviously, the club was real, but Jane's invitation had been faked. Ouch. It must've come from the killer.

She gripped the arms of her seat. Had Conrad connected the same dots? His expression remained impassive, but she knew he had. The man was brilliant. But also, bombshell! The mayor's son had discussed Jane with her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend.

"Just so we're clear, you're referencing Jacob Thacker, your neighbor, as well as the son of Mayor Thacker and Jessica Thacker?" Conrad asked.

Jessica Thacker, the woman in jail for shooting him and threatening Jane's life. Huge motive for Jacob. Who just happened to be Maggie's neighbor. How interesting.

"Correct," Maggie said before refocusing her attention on Jane. "I admit I recognized your name before Jessica's case. Chris mentioned you dated him a few years before me."

"That's right." Play it cool. "Christopher came to my rescue so bravely at the tearoom. He stayed with me until the ambulance arrived." He may have rushed in, thinking the injured woman mentioned via the phone call was Maggie, but his kindness had kept him by Jane's side. And yes, okay, also his job. "He couldn't stop singing your praises." She seized the opportunity. "I hear we're both writers." Bam! Important detail added to the conversation.

Excitement sparked in Maggie's eyes. "What do you write?"

"I'm still finding my voice and searching for the right critique group," Jane said, thinking she remembered reading something similar somewhere, "but for the time being I'm pre-published, crafting a fictionalized version of my life and how I've solved some of Aurelian Hills's most complex crimes. Your turn. I'd love to hear your book's elevator pitch." Man, she was nailing the lingo.

Interrogating suspects really was easier than the average citizen might think.

"I'm writing a series featuring a plucky heroine who fixes cars by day and solves crime by night. Very high concept." Maggie grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, then wrote something down. "You should come to my house tomorrow evening at seven. I'm hosting a special book club meeting to honor Hannah."

Jane almost shouted, "Yes!" Somehow, she managed to smile politely and say, "I will do everything in my power to clear my schedule." But, um. Surely Abigail had mentioned her absolute loathing for Jane at some point. And then there was Christopher. Yet, Maggie had offered the invitation so easily. Did the gals want her to attend to further the game?

Maggie leaned over to hand Jane the paper. Ah. An address.

"You and Hannah were close?" Conrad asked, taking control of the conversation.

"Once. Then her ex-husband showed up during a meeting, and they fought about their kids. That's when he met my friend Abigail. The two started dating. Hannah held grudges, and she never fully forgave me for refusing to get involved and kicking Abigail from the group. And no, I don't think Abigail or Mason killed Hannah. They're good people."

Other than having great taste in speakers and terrible taste in friends, Maggie might be innocent. Emphasis on might!

Jane rearranged her suspect list. In the number one spot remained Abigail, however, where she would stay until proven innocent. Mason was second, the mayor's son third, the mayor fourth, and Maggie now fifth. She might have jealousy issues, considering she hadn't fought harder to invite Jane to speak at a writer's meeting.

If Holden ever got around to finding Lucy, things would be easier. Jane could learn the identity of her attacker.

"—but I know nothing more than that," Maggie said, and Jane realized she'd lost track of the dialogue. Oops.

"Why weren't you at the grocery store with Abigail before the writer's meeting?" Jane asked.

Surprise flickered inside Maggie's eyes. Because Jane knew such a detail? "I was running late. Lost track of time while working on an Audi."

Hmm. Plausible. But honest?

"Please call me if you think of anything that could help us find Ms. Thorton's killer," Conrad said, handing over his card. "No detail is too small."

He stood, and Jane did the same. They headed outside without saying a word. Rather than crossing to the parking lot, he drew her along the sidewalk.

"We can talk about what we learned later," he said, wrapping an arm around Jane's waist to draw her closer. He'd grown dead serious. "Right now, I need you to listen to me. All right? I clocked the mayor twice this morning. He's following us, and I'm going to catch him in the act. Beau's office is two streets down. I know he's there. Text him and tell him to go outside and wait for you. As soon as you're in his orbit, I'll backtrack to apprehend the mayor."

The seriousness of his tone sent Jane's heart into overdrive, but she obeyed without protest or hesitation, sliding her phone from her purse to send the message.

While Conrad steered her, she typed, 911! Being followed. Get outside. I'm coming to you.

Send.

"You'll be safe?" she rasped.

"Always."

Beau responded as they turned the second corner, with a straight shot to the Peach State Security Building at the other end.

Beaudyguard: Which direction are you dimint reinvent

Uh…? Had he texted while on the move? Jane squinted, searching for him. "He's there!"

"Go straight to him. I love you, and I'll be back soon." Conrad backtracked swiftly, disappearing around the corner they'd just cleared.

Fighting the urge to follow him, she picked up the pace, eager to reach Beau. Had he seen her too? He stood there, looking left and right—aaah! Someone grabbed hold of Jane's wrist and yanked her into an alley. She pulled back her elbow, ready to throw a punch.

"It's me, it's me," the offender rushed out.

"Lucy?" Jane gasped, lowering her arm. Her body acted before her mind gave permission, and she hugged her former friend. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay, too." Lucy hugged her back, relief heavy in her voice.

The last time Jane had seen this woman, she'd opened her mouth as if preparing to scream. "You tried to warn me, didn't you?"

"Yes." Easing away, Lucy launched into a swift pace in front of her. Gone were the pencil skirt and heels. Her dark hair no longer fell in an elegant cascade, but was anchored in a haphazard ponytail. But kindness still dominated her brown eyes. The same kindness she'd displayed in school.

Sitting alone in the cafeteria? Don't worry, Lucy would plop right beside you. Your friends ditch you in the parking lot as a joke? No need to fret. Lucy always gave you a ride home.

"I wish I'd alerted you sooner." Lucy kicked a rock on the uneven asphalt. "I didn't think…hoped…"

"Hey, it's okay. I'm good, and I'm grateful." Jane bit back a smile because man, oh man, was Holden gonna be mad she'd found the former bank employee first. "Why are you here in Aurelian Hills? Returning to the scene of the crime is dangerous." The fact that she'd stolen fifty thousand dollars of Emma Miller's money hadn't changed.

Lucy stopped pacing, glancing from an employee parking lot to a delivery truck parked at the rear entrance. Anywhere but Jane. "Being on the road was tough. The money ran out quickly and–"

"Whoa! You spent that much cash in less than six months?" Jane demanded.

Her friend resumed pacing. "The money wasn't for me. I just…I needed a friend, so I came home. And besides, Cartier really misses Rolex."

"Well, Rolex misses Cartier too." Was Hannah the friend?

Lucy flinched, as if the news was too much to bear.

"You gotta give me more info," Jane said. "Who or what did you need the money for?" Only one scenario made sense. "Is Cartier okay?"

Another flinch. "Cartier is fine. I desperately required the cash for a person I loved. I'll explain some other time."

Loved, past tense. Meaning that person had died? Jane's chest squeezed.

Lucy glanced toward the parking lot again. Already planning her escape? "We don't have a lot of time. Here's what I know. I was living in the secret room at the Treasure Room. Hannah invited me."

"Why would she do that?"

"We were friends. Mostly." The muscles of her throat worked, her swallow audible. "Plus, I helped her with financing when no one else would. When I returned, I promised to take care of her taxes in exchange for secret room and board. The store was locked up, and we were tidying the shop in preparation for the book club. I'd gone to the back to grab specific jars of tea leaves. I heard a man's voice in the secret room as I returned."

Jane's spine straightened. A male murderer then, not a female. Which meant the mayor, his son, the ex-husband, a hitman, or someone she hadn't yet considered had done the deed. Or someone she had considered, then forgotten. Maybe someone new to town. Someone off like that Donnie guy. "Did you recognize anything about him?"

The other woman shook her head. "I snuck inside just in time to witness her death." Tears streaked down Lucy's cheeks. "As he rearranged the room, I stayed hidden. Then you showed up, and he hid. I didn't know what to do. Didn't expect you to enter… When I saw him sneak up on you, I reacted. When you went down, I ran, hoping to draw him away and find help. I knew I couldn't overpower him."

Jane's blood flashed cold. "What can you tell me about him?"

"He's tall. Fit, I guess. On the lean side. He wore gloves, so I didn't get a look at his hands. Every inch of him was covered up."

Tall and lean described both the mayor, his son, Mason and yep, Donnie too. "You didn't recognize his voice?"

"He used some kind of vocal disguiser." She nibbled on her bottom lip. "I'm scared, Jane. Whoever he is, I think he's after me. I feel like I'm being watched all the time."

"You need to come in and talk with Conrad," Jane told her. "He'll keep you safe."

"Safe? Hardly. Conrad will lock me up for taking that money," she cried.

"Jane!" Beau's frantic cry reached her ears, and her breath hitched.

Lucy went still and croaked, "Please hurry and solve this. Lives depend on it." She bolted, vanishing in the distant shadows as if she were the ghost Fiona recommended Jane weave into her story.

Beau caught her by the arm and pulled her behind him. He looked left, right. "What happened? Talk to me."

Jane took a moment to breathe. "The mayor followed Conrad and me. Our wonderful sheriff gave chase. I made my way to you and found Lucy. Well, she found me. She witnessed the murder. I just learned the killer is male and built like the mayor, Jacob Thacker, Mason Thorton and Donnie the fireman. So? What are we waiting for? Let's go rescue our mansel in distress."

"There's no need."

Conrad's rich baritone reached her ears, and she gasped, spinning. There he stood, in the entrance of the alley, his expression grim.

She raced over and threw her arms around him, repeating Beau's words. "What happened? Talk to me!"

"Someone followed the mayor in a car. The son, I'm guessing. As soon as the mayor realized I had spotted him, he hopped in and the two drove off. I noted the vehicle's make and model, but they made sure I couldn't see the plate number. Which isn't a crime, but I'll still be hauling in Mr. Mayor for questioning. Not that it'll do much good. He'll lawyer up and say nothing." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "The investigation needs Lucy's testimony on the record.'"

Conrad had heard what Jane said regarding the loan officer. Good. "Let's go see Ashley and find out what info she's got on Hannah. Then I'll speak with Jacob tomorrow at Maggie's book club party." She'd also do a little online sleuthing to dig into Donnie Eggerson's past. No one was that creepy without a reason.

The boys groaned, which Jane took as enthusiastic approval. Maybe the buck stopped with the Thackers, maybe not. But if they had started this game to punish her for testifying against Jessica Thacker, well, they'd just have to deal when Jane ended it.