Domestic Affairs (Tiara Investigations Mystery) (19 page)

Jack came around the island and took my arm.
 
“Don’t we have some champagne in the garage refrigerator?
 
Let’s toast Paul and Tara’s engagement.”
 
While he was talking he was pulling me out of the room.

He closed the garage door, shutting us off.
 
Then he took me in his arms.
 
“Will you run away with me?”

“If you’re asking me to go back to our old life, you know I can’t do that.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m retiring.”

I looked at the door. My friends were on the other side. “Ask me again in the morning, if you still want me to after what you’re about to hear.”

He took my arm. “I’m not afraid. I knew when I asked you to marry me, I’d spend the rest of my life saying, ‘Damn, Baby.’”

 
I turned to go inside but stopped. “Will you admit how mad it made you to have a stranger invade our home?”

“You drive a hard bargain. And you know it’s not the same.”

Victoria had started assembling tomato and lettuce sandwiches when we rejoined them. She had a huge smile on her face.
 

“What’s so funny?”
 
I poured myself a glass of tea.

“We don’t know why Robert Sanders wanted Thomas Chestnut’s clothes!”
 

“I don’t know if I want to know that.” Jack reached for what he thought was his standard bottle of whiskey.
 
“What’s this?”

The label on the etched glass decanter read Jack Daniel’s Single Barrel Select Tennessee Whiskey and the Jack Daniel’s signature was engraved near the bottom.
 

“That’s your retirement gift. We went to Lynchburg, Tennessee, and chose the barrel just for you,” I said.
 
“If we don’t have a party, you’ll have to drink 249 more bottles.”

“I’ll do my part.”
 
Paul held up a glass.

Jack poured and turned to Shorty. “What about you?”
 

Victoria looked at him. I was holding my breath, and I think the others were too, waiting and waiting for his answer.

“What are friends for?” He laughed and Victoria went to his side.
 

“Sit down, boys, and we’ll answer that,” Tara said.
 
“We’ve got a story to tell you.

***

Mr. FBI Special Agent, that completes my statement.
 
Robert Sanders thought he knew best about physical security versus cyber security, and, of course, he was a psychopath.
 
We three were afraid if we told our husbands––Tara and Paul got married last weekend––they would think they knew best. They took it like men.

As they learned all Janice Marshall had done for Asher Charles, they freely admitted a woman at the other end of the spectrum was way preferable.
 
As far as I know, those two are still dating and still deserve each other.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lane Stone is a native Atlantan and graduate of Georgia State University.
 
She, her husband, Larry Korb, and the real Abby divide their time between Sugar Hill, GA and Alexandria, VA. When not writing, she’s enjoying characteristic baby boomer pursuits:
 
hiking in various countries and playing golf. Her volunteer work includes raising money for women political candidates, communications and media for the Delaware River and Bay Lighthouse Foundation, and conducting home visits for “A Forever Home,” a dog foster organization. Check out her website:
 
www.LaneStoneBooks.com
.
  
She tweets as
Abby,
The Menopause Dog
and her Facebook page is: LaneStoneBooks.

If you enjoyed this book, please consider posting a review on your favorite online retailer’s website.

This book is fiction.
 
All characters, events, and organizations portrayed in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
Any resemblance to actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.
 
No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

For information about other Cozy Cat Press mysteries,
 
visit our website at:
 
www.cozycatpress.com