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

my wrist. “Can you come back this afternoon?” he asked. “We need to talk.”
    I smiled at him. “Of course.” I had the feeling that if I told him no, Sylvia wouldn’t let me out of the house. “Anything you want me to bring you?”
    He hesitated, and I was sorry I made the offer. “How about a couple of malts from the Dairy Barn?” he asked. “Sylvia didn’t believe me when I told her how good they are.”
    “Done.” I got out of that one easier than expected. “What flavor do you want?”
    “I don’t know what their special is right now. You choose,” he said. The Dairy Barn is known for coming up with some unique creations—they made bacon milkshakes before anyone else ever dreamed of them. No way would I bring him a basic chocolate treat unless he asked for it, but if they were doing something exotic like grasshopper shakes—with real grasshoppers like they tried last summer—my favorite strawberry-banana combination would be an option.

    That afternoon, once we’d finished off our butterscotch-pumpernickel shakes, Sylvia left to stock up on groceries. She confided to me that Detective Thomason—Freddie—had a typical bachelor’s cupboard. In other words, pretty much empty. She wanted to make sure he wouldn’t go hungry while he recuperated, since she was leaving the next day to get back to her job. I’m sure that was a major hint for me. I pretended not to get it and she didn’t push the issue. Either she wasn’t as much like her brother as I figured, or she planned to work me from a different angle. I didn’t intend to stick around long enough to find out.
    But I did promise to stay until she got back. Freddie was sitting up on the couch and I took a seat beside him while we listened to her car take off down the street. “Harmony,” he started. He paused, waiting for me to interrupt, but when I didn’t, he continued.
    “I need to apologize for Friday night,” he said.
    I avoided his eyes and pretended to pay attention to the soccer game on TV. “I guess you should,” I told him.
    He didn’t try to hide his sigh. “I keep thinking there is something in those postcards that will help us solve this case.”
    “Which case?” I asked a little too sharply. “Are you trying to prove I was selling drugs or do you think Jake has something to do with the attempted mugging? He didn’t even like this necklace!” I fingered the turquoise strand on my neck.
    Even under all the bruising, I saw the red rising in Freddie’s cheeks. “Are you defending him? After all he did to you? Are you still in love with him?”
    I considered it. Jake never did anything bad to me. Not on purpose, anyway. And no, I wasn’t in love with him anymore. None of this was Freddie’s business. But I’m not good with conflict, and I was trying to figure out how to tell Freddie all of that without hurting his feelings. He took my silence the wrong way.
    “You do still love him,” he said, shaking his head. “So why are you here? So you can laugh about stringing me along later?”
    I stopped planning what I wanted to say. “It occurred to me,” I said as I grabbed my purse. “That the reason someone ran you off the road was because they didn’t want you hanging out with me. I felt guilty because I thought it was my fault you got hurt. I thought I could overlook the fact that I caught you sneaking around in my closet when all you had to do was ask and I would have given you the postcards. Was that the only reason you were dating me? So you could look for evidence against me and put me back in jail? Were you laughing behind my back the whole time?” By now I was opening the front door, and he was struggling to stand up. “I can show myself out, Detective. Tell Sylvia I said it was nice to meet her.”
    He started hobbling across the room and I slammed the door shut as I stepped outside. “Don’t get better too fast, asshole,” I said between gritted teeth as I hurried to get into Dolores. I started her