Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Is something wrong?” she asked when the silence became too much.
“Nothing I can’t handle. A few hiccups with my renovation.”
“You mean your Murder House.” Beau had purchased the home of a deputy who’d accidentally shot himself, setting off a complicated investigation into his death. A mystery Jane had solved, thank you.
“I’ve got some competition with the new owner of the Clayton Boarding House, whoever they are.”
“I still can’t believe two people engaged in a bidding war for what’s basically a shack on a hill,” Jane said. “I wonder if the new owner knows how many men took their last breath there in the 1920s.”
Beau gave an exaggerated shudder. “Or that it’s haunted.”
She cocked her head. “Beauregard Thomas Harden, please tell me you don’t believe in ghosts after working in a cemetery.”
His shoulders began to shake. “You used my full name.”
“Only because this is serious business. But if I know my Bo Bo, and I do, you’ll come out of this competition thing on top. Besides, the recent slaying that took place in your new house beats a fake haunting every time. Also, here’s something guaranteed to brighten your day. Beauregard Thomas Harden,” she repeated to stress the importance of the moment, “will you be my bridesmaid?”
He grinned so big. “Jane Eleanor Ladling, I would be honored.” He opened his mouth to say more after she squealed with delight, but they’d reached her cottage. He parked his truck next to three vehicles surrounding her hearse in the gravel driveway.
Recognizing each, she emerged into the warm afternoon sunlight and hurried into the cottage to find out what was going on. Tiffany sat with Rolex on the couch in the living room, eating something tasty looking from a bowl. Fiona and Susan, Conrad’s foster mom, lounged in recliners near the fireplace.
“—and then my darling Raymond issued me a citation for being too adorable,” Fiona was saying.
Tiffany and Susan laughed. A long length of white lace draped the lap of Conrad’s foster mother. The dear woman was usually quick with a smile, but today she beamed.
Fiona noticed Jane first and hit her with an adoring grin. “Jane, my dear girl, I didn’t want you to have to worry about food after your awful ordeal, so I brought you and Tiff a few casseroles.”
“Twelve,” Tiffany interjected, her green eyes glinting with amazement. “She brought us twelve casseroles.”
Fiona shrugged. “I needed a distraction. Now then. The meals can be stored in the freezer and thawed before baking. I remembered to include the loaded red potato casserole you enjoy so much.”
Jane’s heart swelled with love. Needing an outlet, she passed out hugs to one and all. Even Tiffany. Rolex got a thousand kisses too. Her fur-baby finally recalled his great love for her and bumped his face into hers, making her the happiest woman on Earth.
“Beau,” Trick called from the kitchen. “You gotta try this cornbread and sausage casserole Fiona brought. I’m eating manna, dude. Manna!”
Beau licked his lips. “Ladies.” He offered the combination greeting and farewell, then hustled to join his buddy.
There was no way she was gonna miss out on Fiona’s delicacies. Jane hurried behind him and scanned the food spread across the peninsula that separated the kitchen from the living area.
“I’ve been meaning to ask why I have to be a writer, too.” Beau handed her a plate.
“Because writers only hang out with other writers and readers. It’s science. Therefore, I’m not the only one who needs to start drafting my manuscript right away to better blend in. That way we can discuss our characters, plots, and so on with confidence.”
He shrugged. “I’ve always heard everyone has a book in them. How hard can it be?”
“Let’s find out. And you know,” she continued, typing into her phone, “as long as we’re each drafting a book for the case, we might as well sell the stories to the world and rake in millions of dollars.” Hello, perfect wedding!
Fiona’s sweet chuckle filled the room as she and the other ladies entered the kitchen. “You two are ridiculous.”
“Right?!” Tiffany clucked her tongue. “I’m glad I’m not the only person seeing it. Think, guys! If it were super easy, everyone would publish. Besides, I’ve already tried. Nobody had any interest in my chronicle of a gloriously beautiful trophy wife pining for some hulking beast man to come crashing into her mansion and sweep her into a fantastical fairy tale world.”
“I’ll read it,” Jane and Fiona piped up in unison.
Pleasure tinged the widow’s cheeks. “I only wrote the first paragraph. But my point is valid. Writing is hard, guys.”
Well, now Jane had something to prove. The sweetest victories came after the toughest battles. Since there was no need to cook, there was no time to ponder. Guess she’d jump straight into the writing. As soon as she finished visiting with her friends, of course.