Page 21 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

I blink.

". . . Go on."

He launches into an explanation involving unmatched laundry, suspicious knitting circles, and the disappearance of several left socks sometime around Easter. I understand perhaps twelve percent of it, though I nod encouragingly because Jasper appreciates an attentive audience.

By noon, the bell jingles again and Clover backs through the door balancing a bakery box against one shoulder.

"You still haven't eaten the bagels."

"I was waiting until they qualified as antiques."

She snorts before spotting the ranunculus.

"Oh . . . those poor things."

"They've had a difficult morning."

"So has Daisy. Called in sick." Clover sets the pastries on the counter before continuing without taking a breath. "The new guy at the bakery isn't even pretending to work, Mrs. Keller accidentally ordered forty-seven cinnamon rolls, and the entire town has decided your mysterious funeral man is the most interesting thing that's happened all year."

I smile despite myself.

"Really?"

"The high schoolers are calling him 'The Ghoul.'"

I wrinkle my nose.

"He doesn't look anything like a ghoul."

"No." Clover considers it. "'Soul Reaper' feels a little too dramatic, though."

I laugh.

"Just a little?"

She pops open the pastry box.

"Rumor has it he bought a latte around ten this morning. Tricia swears he paid with cash so crisp it looked freshly printed."

"Jasper thinks he's an undercover IRS auditor."

I stare at her.

"No one in Blackthorn Bay makes enough money to deserve an IRS auditor."

"That's what I said."

She hands me a pastry before smiling knowingly.

"I like him."

"You've spoken to him once."

"I know." She shrugs. "He's polite. Quiet. He looks at people when they talk instead of over their shoulders."

I hesitate.

"You didn't see him last night."