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Authors: Traci Tyne Hilton
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were?”
He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”
Jane shook her head. She wasn’t entirely sure there had been a Young Entrepreneurs at Presbyterian Prep, but apparently his dad had trained him well for his future running the family business. “Remind me: where did you go to college?”
“College? Did I go there?” Jake hopped off of his desk and moved to the window. He stared across Main Street. “Can you believe they want to shut down every business that sells junk food every Sunday? It’s preposterous. After-church lunch sales are big money to me.”
“You went to college.”
“Are you suddenly an education snob, Jane? Is this the Daniels’ influence rubbing off on you?”
Jane’s face went up twenty degrees. “Never mind. Thanks for the help.”
“I entered OSU with two years’ college credit under my belt and finished my business degree at nineteen and a half. I went back for an MBA that I took mostly online. Not that I didn’t do my fair share of partying anyway, but, yeah. You don’t make lifelong college friends when you are in and out like that.” Jake drummed his fingers on the window. “But you have to guess which O and which U. Am I a Beaver or a Buckeye? Or maybe Cowboy? You can’t make me tell.”
“Wow. You’re smarter than I thought you were.” Jane chewed her bottom lip.
Jake stared out the window, the weight of the world, seemingly, on his shoulders. His forehead was creased in thought, and he looked much older than he had two years ago, when she was sleeping in the maid’s quarters at his house. He looked tired. But he was smart, and educated, and had some solid experience under his belt, if he had worked side by side with his dad for the couple of years after he finished school, but before Bob had died…
“Thanks again.” Jane turned to leave, not wanting to waste any more of his time.
Jake caught her by the elbow as she turned to go. He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Don’t underestimate yourself, Jane Adler.” He brushed her ear with his lips, like a kiss, almost, maybe, and then let her leave.
9
Jane hunkered down over her table at Starbucks. She was making a master list of the notes Jake had sent. She had a feeling the people who hadn’t responded to Jake’s email, but had come to the party anyway, were the ones to keep her eye out for. She lined out a theory and considered it: Someone knew about the party, and knew that Sasha Henry had invited Michelle Smith. That someone would have had to know enough about the event to know where to go and when, hence the idea that they had an invitation. If they had gone with the express intent to kill, they would not want it known that they were there…so…no RSVP.
Was that too simple?
She wouldn’t know until she tested it.
And the funeral would be a decent way to test it…if the person was well enough known by Sasha Henry to know that Sasha was bringing Michelle, he or she would need to be at the funeral for the sake of good appearances. And, if they wanted it known that they were at the funeral, grieving, they would definitely sign the guest book. So someone on Jake’s list of people he noticed at the party and had invited, but didn’t RSVP, who also happened to sign the guest book, would be someone to look into for motives.
Jane smacked her head. What a convoluted idea. That might possibly be the slowest way ever to find out who might have had a motive.
And yet, it was all she had so far.
Unless of course the killing was related to Michelle’s supposed time with HLP. Jane would have to uncover Bang-Bang Bambi’s Dead’s real identity if she wanted to know how seriously to take that bit of information.
She drummed her fingers on the table. Jake was smart, could he help with cyber spying? She sucked in a breath. He was networking smart—business-savvy smart. She didn’t see any signs he could hack it as a hacker.
She scrolled through the contacts on her phone. She was a
He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”
Jane shook her head. She wasn’t entirely sure there had been a Young Entrepreneurs at Presbyterian Prep, but apparently his dad had trained him well for his future running the family business. “Remind me: where did you go to college?”
“College? Did I go there?” Jake hopped off of his desk and moved to the window. He stared across Main Street. “Can you believe they want to shut down every business that sells junk food every Sunday? It’s preposterous. After-church lunch sales are big money to me.”
“You went to college.”
“Are you suddenly an education snob, Jane? Is this the Daniels’ influence rubbing off on you?”
Jane’s face went up twenty degrees. “Never mind. Thanks for the help.”
“I entered OSU with two years’ college credit under my belt and finished my business degree at nineteen and a half. I went back for an MBA that I took mostly online. Not that I didn’t do my fair share of partying anyway, but, yeah. You don’t make lifelong college friends when you are in and out like that.” Jake drummed his fingers on the window. “But you have to guess which O and which U. Am I a Beaver or a Buckeye? Or maybe Cowboy? You can’t make me tell.”
“Wow. You’re smarter than I thought you were.” Jane chewed her bottom lip.
Jake stared out the window, the weight of the world, seemingly, on his shoulders. His forehead was creased in thought, and he looked much older than he had two years ago, when she was sleeping in the maid’s quarters at his house. He looked tired. But he was smart, and educated, and had some solid experience under his belt, if he had worked side by side with his dad for the couple of years after he finished school, but before Bob had died…
“Thanks again.” Jane turned to leave, not wanting to waste any more of his time.
Jake caught her by the elbow as she turned to go. He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Don’t underestimate yourself, Jane Adler.” He brushed her ear with his lips, like a kiss, almost, maybe, and then let her leave.
9
Jane hunkered down over her table at Starbucks. She was making a master list of the notes Jake had sent. She had a feeling the people who hadn’t responded to Jake’s email, but had come to the party anyway, were the ones to keep her eye out for. She lined out a theory and considered it: Someone knew about the party, and knew that Sasha Henry had invited Michelle Smith. That someone would have had to know enough about the event to know where to go and when, hence the idea that they had an invitation. If they had gone with the express intent to kill, they would not want it known that they were there…so…no RSVP.
Was that too simple?
She wouldn’t know until she tested it.
And the funeral would be a decent way to test it…if the person was well enough known by Sasha Henry to know that Sasha was bringing Michelle, he or she would need to be at the funeral for the sake of good appearances. And, if they wanted it known that they were at the funeral, grieving, they would definitely sign the guest book. So someone on Jake’s list of people he noticed at the party and had invited, but didn’t RSVP, who also happened to sign the guest book, would be someone to look into for motives.
Jane smacked her head. What a convoluted idea. That might possibly be the slowest way ever to find out who might have had a motive.
And yet, it was all she had so far.
Unless of course the killing was related to Michelle’s supposed time with HLP. Jane would have to uncover Bang-Bang Bambi’s Dead’s real identity if she wanted to know how seriously to take that bit of information.
She drummed her fingers on the table. Jake was smart, could he help with cyber spying? She sucked in a breath. He was networking smart—business-savvy smart. She didn’t see any signs he could hack it as a hacker.
She scrolled through the contacts on her phone. She was a
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