Page 179 of Snaring Emberly

As Bill Mayhew reads out today’s weather report, Roman slips into the bathroom and takes hold of my shoulders.

“Baby, something’s come up,” he murmurs into my ear.

“Huh?” According to Bill, it’s a nice morning for an outdoor funeral.

“Tony and Gil are outside to take you back home.” Roman kisses my temple. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“Right,” I murmur.

Whatever Roman says next fades into insignificance compared to the shock of discovering that Jim might have been dead for nearly two weeks. That all this time, I’ve been drowning in this unnecessary worry of being hunted.

My throat tightens.

What if the news report is part of an elaborate scam to lure me out of hiding?

I shake off that thought. It’s far too paranoid.

But what if Jim concocted this fake death just to smoke me out? He isn’t that powerful, is he? The more likely option is that Roman intercepted another of Jim’s attempts to abduct me from his grounds and put an end to that threat.

My legs straighten, propelling me off the tub. “I’ve got to see this for myself.”

Roman’s cologne is only a memory in the room by the time I fling on the strapless red dress and matching heels. He would probably want me to keep far away from the police, but I’m too riled up to care about earning his disapproval. I step out into the hallway, making both Tony and Gil jolt out of their conversation.

“You ready, Miss?” Tony asks.

I run my fingers through my curls. “Yeah, but we’re taking a detour.”

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling into the courtyard of St. Clement’s Church, where most of the mourners are already leaving in an array of police vehicles. I sit up in the back seat, seeing no sign of a casket, and glare into the establishment’s double doors.

“I’m going inside,” I say.

Gil glances at me over his shoulder. “The boss won’t like this.”

“What does the boss know about this funeral?” I ask.

His jaw tightens, which is an answer in itself. The only thing I’m mad about is that Roman didn’t tell me Jim was dead.

“You sure about going inside?” Tony asks.

“Yeah.” I reach for the door handle and step out into the cool morning.

Adjusting my dress, I take a deep breath before walking toward the church entrance. My spine straightens at the sound of two car doors opening and closing, and I pull back my shoulders.

With Tony and Gil at my back, I can face those bastards.

The two men flank me on both sides and push open another set of heavy wooden doors, allowing me to step inside the church.

By now, most of the pews are empty, save for some stragglers deep in conversation by the walls. Up ahead, two officers I recognize as Jim’s colleagues stand in front of an open casket.

My heart skips several beats, but I force myself to approach them, the click-clack of my heels against the wooden floors making them turn around.

I lock gazes with Jim’s boss, Stan Bradford, who stares at me with his mouth agape. He notices my two companions before allowing his gaze to flicker over my outfit.

This asshole once laughed like a donkey when Jim backhanded me for serving him coffee with only two sugars, so I don’t give a shit about what he thinks of my dress.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses.

“I came to send my regards,” I snap.