Dying for a Dude (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 4) by Cindy Sample Page B

before he was strung up?”
    Tom nodded. “We found something that could be the murder weapon,” he said. “But we won’t know for sure until after the autopsy. So his death could have been unplanned, a crime of passion of sorts. If so, then why the public hanging? What did the killer intend?”
    “What do you think?” I asked.
    Tom’s brown eyes darkened until they matched the filling in the bakery’s midnight chocolate cupcakes. I shook my head at my fantasizing, wondering whether I was hungry or horny.
    “What I think is none of your business, as you very well know,” Tom said. “So how come you’re not at work?”
    I glanced at my watch. Oops. I hoped Mr. Boxer was taking a long lunch himself.
    “Gran and I met at the museum during my lunch break. She and some of her friends from the historical society are currently combing through the museum looking for George Clarkson’s murderer. It’s one way of keeping Gran out of your hair.”
    He threw his palms up. “As far as I’m concerned they can research old journals and books to their heart’s content. My primary goal is to solve Spencer’s murder before those clues go cold. Tell your Gran she’s officially deputized.”
    I laughed. “Throw in a badge for her, and you’ll get a lifetime supply of cookies.”
    Tom stood and patted his rock hard stomach. I tried not to whimper. It had been a long time since I’d had access to his bare muscled chest.
    “I think I’ll pass on the sweets,” he said, “but I’ll take some sugar to go.”
    Still lost in my pectoral musings, I looked up, puzzled. Tom planted a soft kiss on my surprised lips. “It could be a few days or even weeks before we wrap up this case.”
    “Need any help?” My lips curved, assuming the answer would be a resounding no.
    Tom surprised me. He grinned and chucked my chin. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but keep your ear to the ground and listen to any rumors going around about Spencer’s death. You never know when gossip can lead to fact.”
    In a small town like Placerville, that was a certainty. I sped back to work intent on my gossip-finding mission. One thing was certain. The sooner Tom wrapped up this homicide, the sooner he could wrap me in his welcoming arms.

 
     
     
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
     
     
    When I returned to my desk, I discovered my boss had plans for me that did not include gossiping with bank customers and employees. I had forgotten that the victim had served on Hangtown Bank’s Board of Directors. Mr. Boxer requested, or rather ordered, me to write a press release detailing Spencer’s contributions to the bank and voicing the deep loss the board felt over his senseless death.
    My goal was to present the bank and Spencer in the best possible light, so I spent several hours searching the internet. After reading one article after another, I wondered if Darius Spencer ever slept. The man served as a director on three other boards besides our bank. He participated on a multitude of local committees and was the founder and current chairperson of a non-profit that worked with disadvantaged youth. He owned a successful investment and insurance company. I was curious how he planned to handle all of those responsibilities if elected, but that question would remain unanswered.
    Janet Spencer and I had chatted occasionally during our Zumba classes. I knew the couple had two children in college, one daughter and one son. I could sympathize with her children’s loss. I was only ten when a drunk driver crashed into my father’s car, killing him instantly. As if losing a parent wasn’t distressing enough, those poor kids would have to deal with the notoriety of their father’s denigrating demise.
    One recent Mountain Democrat article included an interview of Spencer as well as other Main Street proprietors regarding their thoughts on the restoration. Spencer enumerated in detail the grand improvements in the works. I smiled when he mentioned the name of his