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

across his left shoulder—from a motorcycle accident he told me—just added to his charisma. He liked when I ran my fingers lightly across the scar, and loved when I followed its length with my tongue. He seemed to have an unlimited supply of money, but didn’t make a big deal about it. And he liked to spend it on me. I never understood why.
    Don’t get me wrong. I’m not ugly, but I’m no model either. Average height with mousy brown hair and a plain Jane face, I rarely bother with makeup. My clothes have sometimes come from the same thrift shops as the furniture in the apartment. A man like Jake would look natural with a supermodel or two hanging on his arm, not a small town librarian.
    My friends tell me I sell myself short, and am better looking than I give myself credit for. Jake made me feel that way. In fact, he made me feel sexy, both in and out of the bedroom. He took me to a little dress shop in Cleveland and helped me pick out outfits that made it seem like I had curves in all the right places. For him, I gave up my plain white cotton underwear and bought little lacy stuff. I never gave in to buying thongs to please him, but I came close. Those clothes are stuffed in the back of my closet now, except for the underwear. Once in a while I still wore them, especially the red ones, when I needed a boost in my self-confidence. I wouldn’t let him buy me everything he wanted—once he gave me what was obviously a ridiculously expensive necklace. I wore it once to make him happy, and then gave it back.
    His cover story was that he was a real estate investor. He planned to buy up old Victorian houses in town, remodel them, and sell them for an outrageous profit to wealthy internet entrepreneurs wanting to escape the grind of the big cities and work in a more comfortable, Mayberry setting. Oak Grove sits close enough to Pittsburgh and Cleveland so if they wanted to go to concerts or sporting events on a weekend, travel wouldn’t be an issue. He even bought one house—I helped him to research the original colors. It’s sitting empty now, the inside walls on the first floor torn out and ready to be rebuilt. I hope the court allows it to be put up for sale soon, so someone else can finish the project. I would be tempted to do it, but it holds too many bad memories.
    It didn’t bother me when Jake left town on his trips. He didn’t always tell me when he left, but it wasn’t like we were married or anything. Early on in our relationship he informed me that sometimes he would need to travel unexpectedly. I assumed he had real estate deals across the United States. He surprised me with perfume from Paris one trip—I hadn’t thought of him traveling overseas. He said he had been there negotiating with a fabric firm to supply material for one of his projects. Said he would take me along the next time. He even helped me figure out the paperwork to apply for my passport, and took the picture I would use for the required photo.
    Maybe I’ll make that trip by myself one day.

    *****

    I sat on the floor of the third floor of the library between the rows of the 960’s, picking out books to haul to the table downstairs, but not concentrating on the task. My thoughts kept wandering to the bright red car sitting outside. I couldn’t decide whether to take Janine on the curviest road possible and show off how well the car handled, or on a long, straight road and see how fast she would go. As I daydreamed about it parked in front of the Red Pyramid, a sudden chill crawled down my back. Looking up, I caught a glimpse of a pair of brown shoes and pants walking by the end of the row. When I turned back to the book in my hand, there was a single, perfect, deep-red rose lying across its open pages.
    Carefully, I moved the book from my lap to the floor and stood, then slid to the end of the aisle. I peered around the corner to the next aisle over, but it was empty. The aisle after that was empty as well. An elderly gentleman, a