I stared at the ring. The engagement ring. The gorgeous engagement ring, with a round-cut diamond in a rose-gold filigree setting that had tiny diamonds dotted all around. Though it looked vintage, since he’d bought it at the local jewelry store, it had to be new.

“Ash Wolverson,” I said, pushing the ring back to him. “You go propose to Chelsea or I’ll do it for you.”

It’s possible that I was shouting at the end. Likely, in fact, because Rafe said, “You know she will.”

Ash was grinning. He picked up the ring and slid it into his pocket. “All right, you two. You’ve convinced me. But I know who to blame if this heads south.”

And he was out the door before Rafe or I could say that it wouldn’t go wrong.

“Cool.” Rafe stood and stretched. “That was a job well done. What’s next on the agenda? Finding Cleopatra’s tomb, or figuring out how to keep socks from sliding off inside shoes.”

I frowned. “We don’t know where Cleopatra is buried?”

“Look it up,” he said. “What’s next?”

Since I figured we’d more than earned a treat, next was walking down to Tom’s to get cookies. We were standing in front of the glass display case, trying to decide between oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, peanut butter, and chocolate no-bake, when the bells on the front door jingled and my boss walked in.

“Morning, Minnie, Rafe,” Graydon said. “How are you two doing?”

Since he was going to hear the story eventually, I decided it was better if he heard it direct from me. “Well,” I said, and gave him a very abbreviated version of last night’s adventures.

By the time I was done, Rafe had chosen and paid for the cookies, and the three of us were sitting at a small, round marble-topped table, choosing from the wide selection of baked goods.

“So,” I finished, reaching for a no-bake, “Pug’s killer is in jail, the bank robber is in jail, and Ryan is free to do whatever he wants.”

“Quite the night.” Graydon took a chocolate chip. “All I did was sign a new employment contract.” He smiled and lifted the cookie in a toast. “For three years.”

I made a noise that could have been called a squeal. “That’s great,” I said, grinning. “Really, really great.”

“Thanks,” he said, eyeing me, then looking at Rafe. “Do you know what she did?”

“Probably not.”

“She wrote a letter to the library board supporting me. Every single staff member signed it, and so did a number of patrons.”

Rafe reached for an oatmeal raisin. “Sounds like something she’d do.”