“Interviews, paperwork, more interviews.” He shrugs. “The usual thrilling police procedural stuff. Although I did learn thatConrad’s been spreading rumors about the victim being unprofessional. Apparently, Tessa rejected his advances at the engagement party. Piers filled me in on that last part.”
“Let me guess—he didn’t take rejection well?”
“About as well as you’d expect from a guy who thinks his pearly whites make him irresistible. He’s been telling anyone who’ll listen that Tessa was trying to sabotage the wedding out of spite.”
“What a narcissist. The wedding isn’t even about him. It’s about Piers and Charlotte.” I roll my eyes. “What else did you uncover in your official capacity?”
“Well, the medical examiner confirmed the time of death was between nine and eleven P.M. The knife belonged to the inn. Someone took it from the café’s prep station.”
“So, either our killer planned this and knew the catering setup or they got lucky and grabbed the nearest weapon.”
“My money’s on planned. By choosing a public venue, there are a lot of other people to point the finger at.”
“Agree.” I shudder slightly. “Cheerful dinner conversation, Detective Wilder.”
“Sorry.” He grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Want to hear about the thrilling paperwork instead?”
“Pass.”
“How was your day of interrogating people while getting your nails done?”
“Productive, actually. I learned way too much about everyone’s ex-boyfriends’ bedroom habits, discovered that Charlotte’s building a social media empire is something most people only dream of achieving, and apparently I’m now required to provide refreshments for tomorrow night’s Storytime After Dark.”
Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Storytime After Dark?”
“Macy and Camila’s brilliant idea to have Buffy read adult books to the wedding party,” I explain. “The books are coming from Camila’s personal collection. Perhaps you’ve already read them?” I’m only half-teasing.
Jasper nearly chokes on his sweet and sour shrimp. “I can honestly say I have never, and will never, read anything from Camila’s book collection. The woman probably has a library that would make a romance novelist blush.”
“Oh, come on,” I tease. “You’re not even a little curious about her literary tastes?”
“Bizzy, the woman once told me her ideal date involved handcuffs and a feather duster. I try not to think too deeply about her reading preferences.”
I burst out laughing. “She actually said that?”
“During our very last conversation as a couple. I think it was her way of letting me know we weren’t compatible. I wasn’t about to get dusted—even though I was about to get dusted.”
We share a quick laugh.
“I’m glad she dusted you far, far away from her. And well, she wasn’t wrong about the handcuffs part,” I say with a wicked grin. “I seem to recall a few steamy nights tangled in those silver bracelets. That made for some pretty good memories.”
“Agree,” he says. “They made for great memories, but only because I was with you.” He lands a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be sure to steer clear of the inn tomorrow night. Maybe I’ll work late, catch up on case files.”
“Coward,” I tease. “Come on. It might actually be entertaining. Watching Macy try to scandalize the wedding party could be worth the price of admission.”
“I’ll take your word for it. In fact, how about you memorize a few of your favorite passages, and I’ll help you act out a scene or two.” His lips curve into a wicked smile.
“Duley noted,” I say, stealing a kiss from his lips. “And I’ll keep working the social angle of the case. Sometimes people reveal more over cocktails than they do in formal interviews.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He gives a resigned sigh to the fact his amateur sleuth of a wife will be investigating against his wishes. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.” His expression growsserious. “This killer was precise and cold. I get the feeling they’re not someone who kills in the heat of passion and immediately regrets it. I don’t want a repeat performance.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my secret weapon.” I gesture toward the pets. “And the fact I can pry into their gray matter. Plus, they’re all too busy being suspicious of each other to focus on me.”
“Famous last words,” he mutters.
“Speaking of your wily ex,” I say with mock seriousness, “she mentioned that you used to make her handcuff-shaped pancakes every Sunday morning. I thought that was something special you did just for me.”
Jasper inches back on the sofa, looking genuinely puzzled. “I never made her any handcuff-shaped pancakes.” He squints, clearly trying to remember. “In fact, I saw a leftover plate at Leo’s one day. That’s where I got the idea.”
