The Marquesa's Necklace (Oak Grove Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free

and end up as mulch for the rhododendrons that graced the yard. I wasn’t paying attention as I pulled out my keys and unlocked my door.
    The folded, bright orange paper that must have been stuck between the screen door and the main door caught my eye. I almost dropped my laptop bag when I snatched it from the clutches of a sudden gust of cold wind threatening to send the sheet sailing. But I managed to hang onto it with my free hand, using my hip to push open the heavy wooden door.
    Curious, I set down my laptop and purse and unfolded the paper without even kicking off my shoes first. Totally not like me. I sank down on my old brown couch.
    A crudely drawn skull and crossbones adorned the top half of the page. On the bottom half, scrawled in red ink, were the words “You got lucky this time.” I took a deep breath, picked up the landline phone, and hit memory five—Detective Thomason’s direct line.
    I was sitting at the bottom of the stairway, patting Piper, and practicing breathing exercises to calm my nerves when he arrived in a squad car, sirens wailing. To my shock, Piper didn’t even growl. The uniformed cop with him dashed up the stairs, his hand on the butt of his gun. The detective sat beside me and pulled the evidence out of my still-shaking hand. He flipped open the sheet, glanced at it, and folded it in half. His lips tightened into a thin line as he stared at the crack in the concrete beneath his feet. We sat there, not looking at each other, until the policeman came stomping down the stairs.
    “It’s clear.”
    Detective Thomason grunted. “Ms. Duprie, have you met Officer Clearmont?”
    I recognized the face if not the name. I’d probably seen him around the station. “I’d like to say good to see you again,” I said, “But unfortunately it’s not.” Wow, I was really slipping, cranking out a line like that. Under other circumstances, I would have been ashamed of myself.
    “I’ll dust for prints on the door, but I don’t expect to find any,” the officer said, his expression not changing. “Except for yours, ma’am,” he added, acknowledging me.
    “And we have hers on file at the station, so they will be easy to match up.” Detective Thomason noted dryly. “Bring back an evidence bag for this too.” He waved the guilty piece of paper in the air. “Although I doubt we will find any unknown prints on it.”
    I watched Officer Clearmont’s retreating back. “Are you sure Jake is still in prison?”
    “Yes.” He put his hand on my knee. “That doesn’t mean a friend of his, still on the outside isn’t doing this for him. Do you remember the names of any of his business associates?”
    I let the hand stay, but Piper growled. Detective Thomason glanced at the dog, but Piper was inside the fence and no threat. I patted him through the wire until he settled down. “No, Jake never introduced me to them. Of course, I thought his business was real estate until you arrested me for selling drugs with him.” It might have been a figment of my imagination, but I think the detective blushed.
    “Just doing my job.” He moved his hand. I missed its reassuring warmth.
    “I don’t know how you thought I was some gangster’s moll. I mean, I’m just a plain old ex-librarian.”
    “There’s nothing plain about you, Harmony,” he blurted out. It was my turn to blush. I busied myself patting Piper until Officer Clearmont returned. The two men went upstairs to do whatever it is the police do at a crime scene.
    I cleaned for two hours after they left. It started with washing the residue of fingerprint powder off the door, and morphed into a deep cleaning of everything Officer Clearmont might have touched. The counters, the doorknobs, I even changed the cover on my bed, and that was a week ahead of schedule. Don’t get me wrong, he was well-groomed, but my friends accuse me of being slightly fanatical about keeping my place up to my rather-high standards. My furniture may be old, but nobody