No Gravestone Left Unturned (A Jane Ladling Mystery, #2)

by Gena Showalter

“Be a good boy while Momma keeps herself out of jail by committing a felony.”

Rolex perched on the coffee table in front of Beau, hissing periodically. Every so often, he glanced up from his cell phone to acknowledge her cat’s efforts to terrify him with a muttered, “Keep trying. I almost trembled that time.”

It hung next to the gilt-framed cross-stitched display of Henry Cavill’s perfect face.

“Let’s get you home. You can show me everything you suspect and why, then tell me what you did to the body while the security camera supposedly shifted to Rolex. As if I wouldn’t notice the curtains.

We’ll keep playing will-they-or-won’t-they as long as you need. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to take you home. Say yes, and I’ll let you interrogate me.

“I-I like you too, despite your habit of accusing me of murder,

“I’m the world’s worst cook,” he told her. “I’ll prepare you a meal one day and you’ll never again worry about falling in love with me.” “You’d think. But an apron probably makes your muscles pop.

“You are chasing them in the hearse?” Beau bellowed. “After drinking Ana’s coffee?” “She’s what?”

If she answered, he would only order her to back down again, not yet understanding that a real potential boyfriend would help her destroy her enemies, not encourage her to show mercy.

Somehow, she’d discovered some humans as good as animals, and she was lucky enough to call them her friends.

“This is an apology dress, nothing more. And yes, that’s a thing.

He looked as if he’d found what he wanted more than his next breath.

Not a single thing in the world beat this. Good food and better company. Or good company and better food.

Sometimes the living weren’t so bad, after all.