Addison
IFROWNED AT Dylan, who appeared to be experiencing some kind of epileptic episode. “What is your—”
“Addison,” a deep voice said behind me, frightfully close to my ear.
I must not react, I must not react.
“I know it’s you, Addison,” Jake continued, and I turned to face him.
“I’m sorry, who is it that you’re lookin’ for?” I asked in a very thick southern accent, reaching my hand outas though asking him to kiss it. “My name is Lynda Worthingham and this is my very good friend, Linda Sanders. We joke because her grandfather was a colonel in the navy.” I giggled. “So, she’s a descendant of Colonel Sanders. Isn’t that such a hoot... or more appropriately... a cluck?”
“Ohmigod,” Dylan whispered, covering her face with her hands.
“Linda and Lynda, huh?” he asked with a sighas he cocked his head and lifted my gloved hand to his lips. At least he was keeping up with our ruse. “What the hell are you two doing here?” he demanded, albeit in a whisper.
“Why, we’re here for the funeral, sir,” I continued, still in character.
“Cut the bullshit,” he said, and crossed his arms. “What are you really doing here?”
“We’re looking for suspects so Dylan can get on with her life,”I admitted. “Killers often show up at the funeral of the person they murdered.”
“What areyoudoing here?” Dylan asked, finally joining the conversation.
I didn’t miss his tiny but approving smile. “Gathering evidence.”
“Aha!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice. “You really don’t think she’s guilty, do you?”
He sighed, relaxing his stance. “No. I told you I believed you.”
“I know, but peopletell me a lot of things.”
He frowned. “Don’t like that, Addison.”
And that’s when I fell in love with him.
“Have you found anything?” Dylan asked, leaning closer to us. “Because I still can’t believe Kirk was married. The jerk flirted with every girl in the office. I can’t even tell you how many times he came on to me.”
