Page 36 of Small Town Sash

"More like with the rumor mill." His eyes narrowed as he watched the group disperse, each woman heading in a different direction with all the subtlety of a military operation.

"Let it go, Braden," Jenesa sighed.

"Can't," he said simply, turning to face her. The resolve in his brown eyes met the weariness in her green ones.

"Since when did you turn detective?"

"Since I saw that look in Hadley's eyes every time they pull their stunts. What do you think they are up to?"

"Who knows? Maybe they're forming a book club," she stated with a shrug.

"Right," Braden scoffed. "And I'm the next Mr. Universe."

"Wouldn't put it past you," she shot back with a smirk.

"Watch this," Braden announced, moving toward the door.

Jenesa grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Undercover."

"Undercover? You're wearing camo shorts and flip-flops."

"Subterfuge," he deadpanned, pulling away gently. "They'll never expect it."

Jenesa rolled her eyes but didn't stop him. Braden strode outside with the confidence of a man on a mission, Dash at his heels. He made a beeline for Mrs. Wallace, who was conveniently watering her roses next door.

"Morning, Mrs. Wallace," Braden greeted cheerfully, the old woman peering over her spectacles with an assessing gaze.

"Morning, Sergeant Harding. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a voice like a gravel road—rough but steady.

"Seen anything interesting lately?" he asked casually, leaning on the fence.

"Depends on what you call interesting," she hedged, a twinkle in her eye suggesting she knew more than she let on.

"Like a particular neighbor and her granddaughter chatting with another mom and her daughter," Braden prodded.

"Ah," Mrs. Wallace nodded sagely. "You mean the daily 'Tea and Treachery' meeting?"

"Tea and...wait, really?"

"Figure of speech, dear." Mrs. Wallace chuckled. "But yes, those four have been thick as thieves lately. Odd, considering how that Tina girl used to be such a friend to your Hadley."

"Figures," Braden murmured, a grim smile touching his lips. "Thanks, Mrs. Wallace."

"Anytime, dear. Keep an eye on Hadley. Those women are up to no good."

"Will do."

He returned to the B&B, his mind racing. Then, as if fate had a sense of comedic timing, the parlor door flew open with a bang. In strode Hadley, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing like a summer storm.

"Sergeant Braden Harding," she seethed, planting her hands on her hips.

He blinked at her. "Hey, Hadley. You look...fiery. Just the way I like you."

"Do not flirt with me right now," she snapped.

Was he flirting? News to him. He was just pointing out the obvious. "Fine," Braden raised his hands in surrender, "What's up?"

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