Page 59 of Lethal Danger

He took in a breath and straightened, giving her another glimpse of those amazing teal eyes. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to dump all that.”

She lifted one shoulder. “You were sharing it. And I’m honored you did.”

His mouth lifted at one side as he watched her. Was he surprised? Pleased? Or just trying to figure her out?

Either way, they could probably both do with switching to something a little less personal. “You said you didn’t recognize anyone in the footage?”

“No. But I wouldn’t know all the people at the cult now. I’m sure many have joined since I left thirteen years ago.” He lifted his soda cup and took a sip. “The police have a huge suspect pool to deal with.” He took another bite of his hot dog.

“Well, they usually want to look at motive, and the cult has that.” Jazz tapped her finger on the smooth side of her thermos. “If they’re trying to sabotage the fair, a bomb on the Skyride would fit as the next target after the Ferris wheel and the Giant Slide.”

“True.” Something in Hawthorne’s response, maybe the note of hedging in his voice, made her pause.

“You think the motive could be different? Not sabotage?”

“Well…” He wiped his mouth and dropped the napkin on the table. “If this were one of my novels, I might have someone disguise an intentional murder as random sabotage.”

Jazz stared at him. “You mean like someone wanting to intentionally kill Aunt Joan? Not sabotage the ride?”

“Or someone with her could have been the intended target. Gretchen Mehl was in the car with her and your uncle and Albert Ferrey were right next to that car. All board members. Plus, your uncle is running for governor. That’s another possible motive for him to be the target.”

A little thrill buzzed behind Jazz’s ribs. It was like getting to see her favorite author in action, creating another fabulous mystery before her eyes. “That does sound exactly like a twist in a Carson Steele novel.”

Hawthorne grinned. “Which probably means it’s fiction and not likely to be true in real life.”

“I don’t know. It sounds plausible. They could’ve known Aunt Joan would go on the Skyride, since she does every year when the board visits.”

“But the bomber couldn’t have had any way of knowing which car she’d ride in. Or which one your uncle or other board members might ride in. Not to mention the specific timing.”

“True.” Jazz nodded. “And my uncle doesn’t always ride with her. Sometimes he takes a different ride or doesn’t even go on the tour. He used to have appointment conflicts sometimes. I remember Aunt Joan fighting with him about it.”

“Right. A lot of holes in that theory.” Hawthorne smiled.

“I know you could make it work in a book.” Jazz grinned. “And I’d love to read it.”

“I’ll be sure to eliminate all the holes first. And give you credit for helping me.” He winked.

Goodness. A bolt of electricity shot through her torso, stopping her heart for a split second before it jumpstarted again. If he really decided to turn on the charm, she would be a serious goner. If she wasn’t already.

A beep sounded from her watch, just in time to save her from swooning. “Oops. Lunch break is up.” She silenced the alert and bent over to grab Flash’s bowl.

“Hey, can I see you again?”

She nearly dropped the bowl as she jerked her head up to Hawthorne. Had he really just said that? To her?

He held up a hand. “Sorry, that came out wrong.” A cute little smile curved his lips even as she inwardly willed her pounding pulse to calm down. “I just wondered if I could pick your brain again. You know, find out more about you for the heroine I’m writing.”

Right. His books. The heroine he wanted to model after her. His interest was professional, not personal. Her heart rate slowed only somewhat with the reminder.

“I didn’t know if you’d be free today? Maybe I could buy you that dinner. I get off at eight.”

An idea Nev would no doubt call one of Jazz’s devious schemes formed in her mind. But even if Hawthorne only wanted to meet for professional reasons, that didn’t mean a girl couldn’t make the most of the situation. “I’ll cook you dinner. At my place.”

“I can’t let you do that. It’s too much trouble. And I’m already taking up your time with my research questions.”

“Are you kidding me?” She waved her hand at him with a smile as she stood and gathered her trash. “Cooking dinner for the famous Hawthorne Emerson at my apartment will be something I can boast about for a long time.” Especially if she managed to romance him with candles and music.

He laughed. “I doubt most people would be impressed.”

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