Jill Shalvis - Get a Clue

"That was the sliver of glass I found that first night," Breanne remembered.

Stacy rocked so fast she became a blur.

"I panicked," Shelly admitted. "Stacy was just staring at me like I was her whole world-" She swiped at her tears. "God. I'd threatened him. Everyone had heard me. And here he was, dead. But I couldn't go to jail-what would happen to Stacy?"

Stacy stopped humming and dropped her head to her knees.

"I knew I had to make it look like an accident," Shelly said. "I tried to drag him to the cellar stairs. They're steep, and it seemed like a good idea to make it look like he'd fallen. So…"

"You pushed him," Cooper guessed.

"I intended to, but I had a problem. He was heavy-he got stuck around that tight corner of the dining room. He got blood on the wall. He'd lost a shoe."

"So you got help," Cooper said.

"She didn't ask," Dante told him firmly. "But yeah, she got help. I carried him to the stairs on my own. I pushed him."

"I cleaned up the blood," Lariana said.

"And then shoved the towel you used beneath the sink." Cooper looked at Dante. "You left the gloves you wore beneath Shelly's bed."

"We were going to dispose of both when the roads cleared," Lariana told him. "But the roads never cleared."

"How did Edward get the hole in his chest?" Cooper asked.

"That would be me," Patrick looked grim. "When I saw how terrified Stacy was-" His voice cracked. "She couldn't even talk, man."

Stacy's fingers were white as she clenched and unclenched her hands. She'd begun to shake. Breanne stroked her back, feeling utterly helpless.

"I lost it," Patrick admitted. "I just happened to be holding the gun-I'd been scaring away a few squirrels. I looked down at the son of a bitch lying there, knowing he'd ruined all of us, and I shot him."

"You know that wouldn't have killed him," Cooper said.

"Aye, I know. But he'd said those things to Lariana, he'd terrified this poor little thing-" He gestured to Stacy. "The fucker deserved to die, mate."

Cooper sighed, scrubbed his hands over his face.

"You don't think so?" Dante demanded.

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"Since when?" Dante asked.

Cooper looked at him for a long moment. "Look, the guy \\ as an asshole, the worst kind. We all know it. But him dying wasn't for any of you to decide." Cooper dropped his hands and looked at all of them. "Why the hell didn't someone turn him in for harassment? Employee abuse? Hell, anything. It didn't have to get to this."

"Please don't tell the police what Stacy did," Shelly whispered. "Please."

Cooper let out a long breath, filled with tension and unhappi-ness, while everyone waited.

Breanne ached for him, and the decision she knew he faced. For Stacy, and her sweet, helplessly contagious smile.

When the doorbell rang, it was like a collective shot in the room; every single person jumped.

Dante and Patrick stood.

Cooper did as well, and stared at both of them. "Let me do this."

Neither man budged.

"Sit down," Cooper said in his cop voice. "Please," he added softly when they didn't move. "Trust me."

"You're a cop," Dante said as if trust and cop couldn't go together in the same sentence.

"Yeah, to the bone, I'm discovering," Cooper said dryly. "But at the moment, I'm not anything but a guy on vacation, Dante." He waited until the tough butler looked at him. "Trust me," he said again.

Dante stood for another long moment, then slowly sank back in his chair, arms crossed, the picture of arrogant punk.

Scared arrogant punk.

"Here's the thing," Cooper said to all of them. "The evidence never lies. You have the bloody towel, the gloves. Where's the vase that Stacy hit him with?"

Stacy turned her head. "I didn't hit him with the vase."

Everyone went still.

The doorbell rang again.

Cooper walked to Stacy and hunkered down beside her. "You didn't hit Edward with the vase?"

She shook her head, her wild hair flying about her face. "I don't hit." She leaned in with a conspirator's whisper. "I'm not allowed."

Cooper gave her a lopsided smile that Breanne felt to her toes. "Good girl. How did Edward end up on the floor?"

"He did this." Stacy stood up, clutched her chest, bugged out her eyes and stuck out her tongue, then fell sideways to the floor, gasping for breath. After three seconds of writhing, she sat up with a smile. "Like that."

Shelly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God."

Cooper reached out and put a hand on Shelly's shoulder to keep her quiet, never taking his eyes off Stacy. "And the vase?" he asked her.

"He grabbed it on his fall. It made a pretty noise. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle…" she sang.

The doorbell rang again. Cooper leaned in and hugged Stacy. "Thank you," he whispered. "You've been a huge help."

Stacy beamed.

Breanne raced after Cooper as he walked to the door, her heart so full she could hardly stand it. "Cooper."

"I have to get-oomph," he said when she flung herself at him. Fisting his hair in her hands, she pulled his head down for a quick kiss. "I'm not just falling for you," she whispered. "I'm falling hard."

Looking stunned, he stared at her.

"You." She put a finger to his chest. "Extremely lucky tonight."

That tugged a staggered-looking grin out of him. "Hold that thought."

***

Three hours later, the police were gone, and thankfully, finally, so was Edward's body.

Once again, everyone gathered in the great room. Cooper looked around and realized what was different-the tension was gone. He looked at Breanne and got a brilliant smile."

Heart attack," Dante said, looking just as flummoxed as Cooper felt. "Who'd have thunk it?"

"The coroner will have to say for sure," Cooper warned. "We're only assuming heart attack, but it makes sense."

"The police thought so, too," Breanne said. "They figured Edward was yelling at Stacy, got chest pains, gripped the vase hard. She thought he meant to throw it at her and screamed. Patrick ran in, assumed the worst, and shot in self-defense." She looked at Cooper. "Sounds like that's what's going to stick."

"It's unbelievable," Dante said. "No one's going to jail." He looked at Cooper. "You're not so bad. For a cop."

Cooper smiled at the backhanded compliment. "Thanks."

"So what now?" Lariana asked. "You two have half a week left. The weather is going to be gorgeous, and the skiing amazing. You staying?"

Breanne looked at Cooper. And with one smile, stole his heart.

"I could use a vacation," she said. "How about you?"

"A vacation sounds like just what the doctor ordered," he answered. "Starting right now." Getting to his feet, he swept her off hers and into his arms. Turning back to the staff, who were all grinning from ear to ear, he said, "I hear there's a hell of a honeymoon suite. With amenities. We'll be enjoying those tonight. Now that the road's cleared, you guys can all go home and take the rest of the week off. We'll be fine."

They whooped and hollered while Cooper kissed Breanne, then carried her out of the room and up the stairs.

She slid her arms around his neck. "Don't hurt yourself," she warned, her mouth on his ear. "I have plans for you."

"And I for you." He shouldered open the door to the honeymoon suite.

"My plans first-" she started, her words ending in a gasp as he tossed her to the bed.

With a grin, he followed her down, stripping off his shirt as he did. "Sorry. But I'm bigger-"

She rolled him. He couldn't believe it but she rolled him, held him down, and smiled wickedly before going to work ripping off his pants.

"Okay," he said, happily caving. "You first-"

This ended in a groan when she took her mouth on a happy cruise down his chest, his flat belly, to the prize between his legs.

"Wait," he gasped. She lifted her head.

"Earlier, when you said you were falling for me-"

"I meant it."

"So this is-"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I love you, Cooper Scott." Her eyes stung with it, but she smiled because nothing had ever felt so right. "Now, pretty please may I ravish you?"

"For as long as you want, Princess. For as long as you want."

Jill Shalvis also lives in the Sierras, where she regularly survives huge snow storms while surrounded by quirky characters. But these characters are her family, and she hardly ever really finds dead bodies, so any other similarities to Get A Clue are purely coincidental. Look for her bestselling, award-winning novels wherever romances are sold, and check out her Web site at www.jillshalvis.com.