Romancing the Gravestone

by Gena Showalter

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kosta Diakos

  Now The Party Can Start.

  Plot 665, Garden of Memories

  “Put her right here,” Caroline Whittington said as she marched through the clinic.

  Beau and Jane followed. A tower of strength at her side, he and his short shorts were streaked with dirt. He carried Emma as gently as possible and eased her onto an exam table. The paper cover crinkled under her legs.

  Emma had yet to wake up. Which Jane didn’t understand.

  Caroline exited, calling, “Come on, Jane. You’ll be in here. Beau, stay with Emma and shout if she rouses.”

  Jane shared a glance with Beau. He was gearing up to protest. To demand he remain at her side. To claim he could zip-tie Emma to the table and all would be well. Except his big, intimidating presence might prevent Caroline from opening up.

  “I might need to undress,” she told him, not the least bit flustered by the thought of undressing in front of her friend. Nope. Not her.

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ll turn my back.”

  Not. The. Least. Bit. “Stay here. You’ll only be a shout away,” she whispered for his ears alone.

  “I only helped you get here so we can put an end to this and get you out of danger, not throw you into more of it.”

  “One, you need to guard a possible murderer. Two, there’s nothing to worry about. Caroline isn’t foolish enough to attack me with such a strong, concerned witness nearby. Plus, did you see my savage brawl with Emma? I’ve got skills, Beau. Good ones.”

  His brows dropped. So did his voice. “You think Caroline is involved in the murder?”

  “Don’t you?” Jane left him sputtering as fervently as Conrad as she tracked Caroline to an exam room two doors down. A different room than before, though it possessed the same design.

  Did the PA have an affair with Dr. Hots or not? Did she treasure hunt with him, perhaps? Coworkers with mining benefits.

  Did Caroline kill him for cheating on her? Or for cheating her of her share of gold? Maybe she was or wasn’t the one who’d delivered the fatal blow, but she was absolutely, positively involved in the crime. How could she not be? Her name started with a C and Jane wanted to kick herself for not noticing such an obvious clue sooner.

  Had Emma committed the murder or merely participated in some way?

  “Shut the door behind you.” The assistant puttered around the space.

  Let’s do this. As soon as Jane obeyed, a second order rang out. “Lay down on the table.”

  Again, Jane obeyed. Not an easy task, considering the bulk of her dress.

  “Tell me more about your stomach pains, Jane.” Caroline secured her hair in a knot at her nape and tugged a latex glove over each hand.

  “Oh, um, to be honest, I’m already feeling better.”

  “Well, stress can ebb and flow, especially after a traumatic event. And you certainly suffered through a traumatic event tonight, didn’t you? Let’s make sure you’re not feeling simply better because you’re in shock.”

  As Caroline checked her vitals, Jane debated the best way to begin her interrogation.

  Then the other woman asked, “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

  “No,” she rushed out, her cheeks heating.

  “Are you sure? You might not be far enough along to realize it.”

  “I’m very sure.”

  Caroline offered her a fleeting smile. “Did you lose consciousness during the fight?” She swiped a pen light off the countertop and flashed it across Jane’s eyes. “Your pupils are responding nicely. How’s your stomach? Still calm?”

  “Correct,” she said, doing her best to hide her growing frustration. She’d missed the perfect opportunity to delve into the case. If Jane returned the conversation to Conrad, Caroline might suspect Jane’s suspicion.

  “That’s a good sign.” The PA patted her shoulder. “I’m going to palpate your abdomen now. Just want to make sure there’s no internal bleeding.” She pressed here and there, moving garments as needed. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Not at all.” In fact, she eagerly awaited a more personal conversation with the woman.

  “I heard you accuse Emma of murdering Dr. Hotchkins.”

  Jane didn’t hear a question, personally or otherwise. “I did that, yes.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Okay. Not what she’d expected the other woman to say. “You do?”

  “I don’t mean to speak ill of a coworker, but her obsession with the doctor was getting out of hand. When we were together, she talked of him and little else. The morning of the murder, I overheard her planning to meet him. I told Special Agent Ryan, right at the beginning, but he did nothing.”

  Her heart raced. Here it was. Confirmation of her suspicions. Emma. The doctor. Their plans. And yet, her gut wasn’t satisfied. Something teased the back of her brain. Was it all a little too easy? Did Caroline come across as a bit desperate? Overcompensating because she feared the truth might catch up to her, perhaps?

  Wait. Was that…could it be…? A tiny streak of neon blue stained Caroline’s shirt. Oh, sweet goodness, it was!

  Caroline had spray painted something at the cemetery. Just like she’d spray-painted the buildings and cars, tagging her own workplace and vehicle to make herself appear to be a victim rather than a perpetrator. If she were capable of that…what else might she do?

  Am I about to solve my first case?

  Excitement singed Jane’s every nerve ending. In the beginning, she had wondered if Conrad considered her twisted enough to do the crime and insert herself into the investigation. She wasn’t. But Caroline might be. What if the PA hadn’t been accusatory when she and Jane had spoken on the phone? What if she’d been frightened and seeking information about the body or the murder weapon? What if she did all that spray painting to restart rumors about the gold? What if Emma and Caroline had worked together? That would mean the PA had turned on her partner, now that the heat of suspicion blazed hotter.

  Now, to get her talking. “I’m sure Con—Special Agent Ryan investigated every lead,” Jane told her with a firm tone. “He’s very dedicated and super smart. He will stop at nothing to catch the person or persons responsible for this heinous crime. He’ll make sure that someone is thrown into the worst prison in existence for daring to trample my—for daring to kill the doctor.”

  Caroline went as still as a statue, not even seeming to breathe. Just for a moment. Just long enough for Jane’s internal alarm to blast off. She knows I know.

  Jane tightened a fist, ready to swing, and opened her mouth to shout for Beau. But the PA moved with shockingly swift reflexes, flattening a hand over her lips. A sharp prick registered in Jane’s neck a split second later, her entire body going weak. Inside her head, dizziness surged. Her vision blurred.

  “I didn’t want things to end this way.” Panic dripped from Caroline’s tone. She’d done it. She was the one who had committed the murder. The PA eased the pressure on Jane’s mouth, but not before she noticed the tremor. “I only wanted to learn what you knew.”

  And plant more seeds of doubt about Emma? Don’t fear. Think!

  “Please don’t fret. I won’t harm you, all right?” Caroline continued. “I’m not a bad person. I’m really not. Before Marcus, I’d never hurt anyone. You’re going to sleep for a bit. That’s all. Just let it happen. When you wake, I’ll be gone. You can pretend this was a terrible dream.”

  Truth? Lies? She tried to shout for help, but no sound emerged. She fought with all her might. Her limbs refused to cooperate. Helpless? No! But no matter what she did, she remained immobile and silent.

  “I refuse to go to jail for defending my honor.” The self-admitted murderer rushed around the room. Different sounds registered. The rustle of clothing. The squeak of tennis shoes. A clink of…glass? “I loved him. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I shouldn’t have moved to Aurelian Hills, but those decades old rumor
s are true. The proof is in the Gold Fever! exhibit. I was born to find gold, Jane. Marcus caught me studying between patients. I shared things with him I’d never shared with another. My maps. The code.” Bitterness infused her tone. “Why? Why did I do that? All along he planned to steal everything for himself!”

  Ohhhh. This happened for love and money. Jane had absolutely guessed some of this. Hadn’t she? She’d guessed a thousand other things, too, but come on! Give her some credit. You had to explore every angle to find the right one, probably. The fact that Conrad had only been halfway right about the motive, well, Jane could live with that.

  Please, let me live with that. How did Caroline even expect to get past Beau?

  Beau! Jane must warn him of the danger. Fighting...fighting so much harder…her heart slammed against her ribs. “Yew wosh gwet…”

  “Mr. Harden,” Caroline called with a frantic tone. “Help me! Something’s wrong with Jane!”

  “Nnnn,” she tried to shout.

  The door immediately opened, hinges squeaking.

  “She’s having trouble breathing, and I can’t get her dress off her. Help me save her and get that corset off her body.”

  Jane sensed his presence at her side. His head and his clean scent. His strong fingers working her gown. Fighting…a finger moved.

  “Jane,” he cried. “Stay with me. Something’s wrong with her, Dr. Whitting—”

  An intake of breath. A heavy thud. No, no, no. Beau had just hit the floor, hadn’t he, as drugged and helpless as Jane?

  “I’m sorry. I really am,” Caroline said, confirming her worst fears. Once again, the PA puttered about. She moved at a more harried clip, opening and closing cabinets. Taking things she might need? “This is all Marcus’s fault. His stupid affairs! He owed so much money. Did you know he was being blackmailed and paying secret child support?”

  No. And dang Conrad to heck for not telling her. A second finger twitched. Then a third. I can do this!

  “I never should have told him what I’d found at the cemetery,” Caroline continued. “Never should have invited him to help me search for more. Why did Emma have to walk into the room that day? She and her swaying ponytail ruined everything! He ruined everything.” A laugh, just as bitter as her words. “If he’d just kept his word to me, none of this would have ever happened. I had a right to my anger!”

  Anger? No. Rage. A moment of rage had ruined the woman’s life. Well, and Dr. Hotchkins’s.

  What would have happened if Jane had killed Emma when she’d lashed out about Rolex? Her stomach twisted. Lesson learned. Control mattered.

  “I did everything right. I got rid of Garcia for the day and took your appointment. I fed you information, weaving in enough misdirection. The symbol should have worked. The posts should have worked. I gave them too many suspects to ever pick just one. Convincing Emma to break into your home and visit Fiona should have worked. I could have lived my life the way I always dreamed. Now I’m forced to start over. Again.”

  Jane’s hand curled into a fist. The haze over her eyes dulled, bits of color coming into view. With great effort, she angled her head. Yes, Beau lay sprawled on the floor. Caroline stood near the door, zipping a bag.

  A crash sounded, startling the PA, who dropped the bag and stumbled back.

  “Jane!”

  Conrad. Her heart leaped and flipped.

  “Help,” she managed to gasp out. She even pulled herself into an upright position and drew the other woman’s attention.

  With a cry, Caroline swiped up a pair of stitch cutters from the cart and darted behind Jane. As a furious Conrad barreled into the room, a gun in hand and a second agent at his heels, the murdering PA pressed the scissors against Jane’s carotid.

  Panic flared as Conrad took aim. Jane could only sit there, her body not fully her own to command. She gazed at the pallid Conrad, who’d never looked so fierce or terrified.

  He kept his weapon raised and rock steady. “Let her go. Hurting her will only make things worse for you.”

  Panting now, Caroline pressed the tip in deeper, drawing a bead of blood. The sharp prick surprised Jane. A warm droplet trickled down her neck. “I’m leaving with her. I’ll drop her off somewhere once I’m safe.”

  “No, ma’am, you are not leaving here. There is no scenario where I will allow you to harm her and live, either,” Conrad stated calmly. “Letting her go is your only chance of walking away.”

  Still fighting. At last, the rest of Jane’s muscles revived, tingling back to life. What’s more, the drugs were wearing off. She could move with a bit more ease, but she didn’t. Not yet.

  “Conrad,” she breathed, and his gaze darted to her. There and back, then there again. Because she smiled, her fear fading as strength returned to her limbs. “I’ve got this. Trust me.”

  Remembering everything he’d taught her, she slammed the back of her head into the PA’s face while latching onto her wrist and pushing. Caroline stumbled, losing her balance and dropping the scissors.

  And in a snap, the day was saved. Conrad raced over to subdue and cuff the woman, right next to a twitching Beau. His gaze returned to her and narrowed. Relief waged war with fury in their depths.

  “Radio for an ambulance,” he told the other agent.

  “Already done,” was the reply. “They’ll be here in less than five.”

  “You and Beau will be checked out without argument,” he told Jane. “When the other agents arrive, I’ll pass off the PA and find you. Tonight we talk.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vincent Hernandez

  I Give This Place Zero Stars.

  Plot 2300, Garden of Memories

  “Oh my goodness, look at you.” Fiona rushed over to hug Jane as she and Beau trudged inside the cottage. “A torn, dirt-streaked dress. Missing beadwork. Dried blood on the material. No hat?”

  Oh no! She’d lost the hat without even realizing it?

  Jane hugged her right back, clinging. “I’m fine. I promise.”

  Fiona hugged Beau next. “And you, young man? How are you?”

  “Despite my stinging pride, I’m all good,” he told her with the first hint of a bemused smile. Not used to having someone fuss over him?

  “So. Jane’s fine, and you’re good. Neither one of you have an excuse for not telling me everything that happened the second you entered this house.” The best pancake maker in the world glanced between them. “Well? Let’s hear it.”

  Despite the obscenely early morning hour, her friend hadn’t slept a wink, had she? “I will, promise.” She hooked an arm through Fiona’s and Beau’s and led them to the kitchen. “After you feed me.”

  “How about you tell me while I cook? But only because Conrad has kept me mostly up to date.” The other woman offered the information casually, as if she hadn’t just rocked Jane’s world.

  “He has? How? When? You tell me everything,” she insisted.

  Fiona fluffed her hair, clearly thrilled to know more than anyone else. “Well, he told me about the fight and your quote unquote secret wish to spend the rest of your life in personal lockup and total lack of personal safety awareness.” After Jane and Beau plopped into chairs at the table, Fiona poured them a glass of sweet tea. “He mentioned Caroline Whittington’s involvement and subsequent confession. Emma’s confession. The Order of Seven. Your trip to the hospital. And finally, how you both got the all clear from the doctor.”

  Caroline hadn’t lied about the drug she had used. A neuromuscular blocking agent for general anesthesia, with no lasting side effects.

  Rolex came prancing around a corner and hopped onto the table. He sat in the empty bowl centerpiece Jane kept just for him. She scratched behind his ears.

  “Here I am cooking,” Fiona said, puttering around. “Tell me your side of the story. Conrad, as helpful as he’s been, left out the most critical details.” A teasing sparkle entered her dark eyes. “I’m wondering how the nurses at the hospital reacted to your shorts, Beau. Jane’s grandpa neve
r looked so…tightly packed.”

  Pink stained his cheeks, and Jane pressed a hand over her mouth to silence what would no doubt be a ridiculous giggle.

  “I tried not to notice what anyone thought of my shorts,” he grumbled.

  The giggle escaped, despite her best efforts, and there was no stopping it. Soon, Fiona and Beau joined in the laughter as well. When Jane’s gaze connected with Beau’s, he stopped laughing. His eyes blazed.

  She gulped. He, um, really valued their friendship, huh?

  “The nurses were overjoyed with Beau. Fussed over him as if he were a delicate baby bird,” Jane said, missing Conrad. “Now tell me everything else Conrad told you.” Even though she was an official, nonofficial crime-solving genius detective, Jane wasn’t above bribery. “Take your own advice and leave nothing out.”

  In her element—gossip—Fiona dropped a stick of butter on the counter and rubbed her hands together. “Well. Caroline fancies herself a modern-day gold hunter. Apparently, the Order of Seven brought her to town. She deciphered some codes in the journals at the museum and learned of the second set of hidden cemetery gold. She also fell in love with Dr. Hots. He pursued her, hoping to use her for the gold.”

  That, Jane had already learned. But one detail confused her. “What did so many women see in the guy?”

  “I asked Conrad the same thing. He says the doctor mostly picked married women who were less likely to tattle, with the occasional single gal thrown into the mix.” Fiona leaned over and propped her chin on her hands. “Caroline learned the truth about his intentions at the same time the nurse discovered his philandering ways. She began plotting right away, spray-painting the fleur-de-lys on buildings and cars and posting on the Headliner anonymously to spread rumors about the gold. She figured more gold hunters meant more suspects. She even slipped specific information to Dr. Hotchkins, which drove him to dig up the grave on his own, hoping to keep the money for himself. Meanwhile, Caroline hid nearby and struck at the perfect moment.”

  Smart. “After Caroline drugged me, she admitted she convinced Emma to break into my house. Do you know how they copied my key or what excuse she used to convince Emma to do it?”