The Marquesa's Necklace (Oak Grove Mysteries Book 1) by P.J. MacLayne Page A

me. “No, he’s at home. His sister came to take care of him. And you’re not going anywhere looking like that. You’re a mess. Where have you been, anyway?”
    “Indiana. Don’t ask me why.” I ran my fingers through my hair. My bun had fallen out while I slept and tangles had taken over. “I guess I’d better take a shower first.” I was glad he had someone to help him out, but I should go say hi at least.
    After a hot shower, change of clothes, and putting on makeup—Sarah insisted I needed to cover up the dark circles under my eyes—we were on the way to his house. I played copilot because I knew exactly where it was but Janine wouldn’t let me drive her car. I made her stop on the way, and they waited while I bought a bouquet of helium balloons. He wasn’t the kind of guy you give flowers to. Every time I saw a black car, I checked to see if it had any damage that might have been caused by hitting a red car. No surprise, I didn’t spot the offending vehicle.
    The Mustang wasn’t sitting in its usual spot in the driveway. I hoped it hadn’t been totaled. That would break his heart. And it was a nice car. It deserved a long life. Hopefully it was at a body shop getting fixed.
    I forced Sarah and Janine to come in with me, in case his sister was gone. I didn’t want to be alone with him. Gave them the line about needing support. What I was really thinking was that misery loves company.
    A woman I assumed to be his sister answered the door. I based my assumption on the fact she looked enough like him to be his twin. She even had the same look of distaste I have seen on Detective Thomason’s face when he interviews a suspect. But I guess the balloons convinced her we were okay, because after I introduced myself she stepped aside and let us in.
    He was lying on his couch watching TV. A cop show. Surprise, surprise. It must have been a bad one, because he flicked the button on his remote and turned off the set the second we walked in. He looked awful. I mean, really, really terrible.
    One side of his face was all splotchy purple bruises. The bruises extended part of the way down his neck. White tape crisscrossed his nose. Another large bandage covered most of his forehead. I could only guess at the rest of his body, because he had a blanket covering everything except his shoulders, and he wore flannel PJ’s, even though it was early September and still warm.
    In the momentary awkward silence, I tried to figure out if there would be a safe spot to kiss him, and if I really wanted to show that much affection. Sensing his sister’s stare, I chickened out and instead handed him the balloons.
    “You look like hell,” I blurted out. I’m not always diplomatic under stress. “Like you had a run-in with a tank or something. Are you going to be okay?”
    “The doctors say I will be sore for a few weeks but should have no permanent damage.” He groaned softly as he used one arm to leverage himself into a more upright position. The balloons floated to the ceiling. “I feel better already knowing you’re safe.”
    He had to go there, didn’t he? I grabbed the strings of the balloons, pulled them back down and tied them to the arm of a nearby chair. “I was out of town,” I explained. “Forgot I had my phone turned off.” I turned to his sister. “By the way, these are my friends Janine and Sarah,” I said. My ploy to get her to stop glaring at me worked as her attention was diverted to the girls.
    Her face softened ever so slightly. “I’m Sylvia. Freddie has mentioned you,” she said, shaking their hands. “Thank you for coming. Can I get you something to drink?”
    We all turned down the offer. “Thanks, but we can’t stay long,” I said. “Janine has to be at work in a little while.”
    We chitchatted for a while, talking about the balloons and other things just as unimportant, until I could tell the gals were getting bored. I was standing close to him as we got ready to leave, and he grabbed