Conrad – Falling For the Gravekeeper – A Jane Ladling Mystery Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
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There had to be a connection.

Conrad’s phone vibrated, drawing his attention. A text from Beau.

B. Harden: FYI. We spoke with Miller at a bar. Before you complain, don’t. This was needed. Now he knows someone is watching Jane’s back.

Beau needed to learn to tell the beautiful brunette no.

A subtle shakiness invaded Conrad’s limbs. He typed, If you want to keep something, you do what’s best for it even when it hurts.

B. Harden: What does that even mean? And what are you still doing up?

Conrad: What are YOU doing up?

Two could play this game. Don’t ask what you don’t want to answer.

B. Harden: Moving on. What will you do if she solves the case first?????

Conrad: I don’t know. Probably marry her.

He meant the words as a joke. Of course he did. There was zero reason to ponder anything else about the matter.

As minutes passed without a new text, he fell back on his pillows and scrubbed a hand over his face. He and Jane would have a sit down tomorrow. He’d explain how things must go from here on out, and she would fall into line. And that was just how it was gonna be.

Should I pound my chest now or later?

He snorted. Jane Ladling might require a bit more finesse on his part. Might? Ha! But he learned, and he adapted.

Eager to begin, he rose with the sun, showered, and dressed, then drove to the GBH headquarters, taking back roads to bypass traffic. After speaking with Ms. Randall, he shut himself in his office and plopped into the chair at his desk. Already brimming with satisfaction, he keyed up Jane’s number.

“Why, Special Agent Conrad Ryan,” she cooed upon answering. “As I live and breathe.”

The sugary sweetness of her voice broadcasted a thousand watts of sass. His timbre dipped of its own accord. “Is raising my blood pressure a new game you’re playing?”

She gasped with genuine astonishment. “Wait. You know about Tony, don’t you? How?”

“I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he told her with a wry tone.

“Did Beau tell you? He did, didn’t he?”

“The tattletale doesn’t matter. You’re visiting me at my office today. Two hours. Don’t argue. I’ll text you the address. Don’t be late, either.” Okay, so, he lacked finesse of any kind.

“A tour? For me?” she squealed with so much happiness he felt as if a sun dawned inside his chest.

“See you soon, Jane.” Click. Instant regret. He missed her voice. But so what. He had a lesson to teach.

Waiting two hours for her arrival—one hundred and twenty endless minutes—proved excruciating. He survived only by focusing on his main objective: solving the case. Conrad dissected statements he’d already dissected, hoping to glean something new.

Twenty-seven seconds before his internal timer went off, he noticed a pacing shadow through the crack under his door. Jane, thinking about running?

Amusement mingled with relief. “Are you planning to stand outside or come in?” he called.

“I’m debating,” she called back. Moments later, the knob turned. With her head high, she strolled into the room wearing a shorter-than-usual dress of black-and-white. Dark hair fell loose and curling, with a small hat pinned to her crown. Her baby blues glittered. A blush already painted her cheeks.

Punch. He struggled to maintain a stern expression. “Sit,” he commanded, motioning to a chair in front of his desk. Safety first.

She scrunched her nose, as if she didn’t understand his language. “What about the tour?”

Did she have any sense of self-preservation? Well, outside of the supposed curse. Which she had never fully explained. “There won’t be a tour.” He used his flattest tone to let her know he meant business.

Instant disappointment radiated from her. “But I want to see the crime lab.”

“Then you should have gone home after the memorial service.” How he resisted the urge to give in, he might never know. “GBH tours are only offered to well-behaved murder suspects.”

“Guess that means the cybersecurity unit is out too,” she grumbled. Dragging her feet, she moved to the chair he’d suggested and plopped down. “Am I here so you can scare me straight?”

“Someone needs to.” There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in her demeanor. “You have no business following leads. You’ll only go down the wrong roads because you aren’t privy to all the facts.”

“You’re right. I’m not privy to all the facts. And I think we can both agree that is one hundred percent your fault.” She humphed in accusation. “But I’m from the town, and I know the people. I’m a resource. Why aren’t you making use of me? Think about it. You’re a straight line, and I’m a squiggly one. More creative. I can help you see things from a different perspective.”

That, he believed. “Like the flying turtles.” What are you doing? Softening? Maybe? He formed a steeple with his fingers in front of his mouth, doing his best to look as reserved as possible. “Go on. Elaborate.”



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