Murder in the Marigolds by Dale Mayer (best young adult book series .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Dale Mayer
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She frowned. “That’s a pretty rough assessment.”
“I know people,” he said, “and I definitely know men. And I know what he wants.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“That’s because you always were naive. He obviously wants a relationship with you.”
“Well, being friends is a relationship.”
“And now that’s being naive again,” he said, “and foolish. You’ve never been foolish.”
She narrowed her gaze.
“You used to do foolish things,” he said, “but I could always trust your judgment of people.”
“And that’s why I’m telling you that Mack is a good guy.”
“He might be a good guy, and that just probably makes him a good cop,” he said, with a sneer. “People who deal with criminals are not the kind of people we associate with.”
She winced at that. She’d been associated with them, with Mack and his team quite a bit. Not to mention Mathew was hardly an angel.
“That little old house of yours is quite the run-down shack too, isn’t it?”
She bristled. “It’s Nan’s house,” she said, “and I really love it.”
“Well, I mean, if you dropped it and built something new maybe,” he said, with a shudder. “But, other than that, it’s just this hokey piece of crap that should have been demolished a long time ago.”
“Well, thankfully it hasn’t,” she snapped, glaring at him.
He held up a hand. “I forgot how defensive you are about that old lady.”
“She is my grandmother, and she’s special to me,” she said, as she sat here, feeling this growing wish to reach across the table and just smack him one. She’d probably be charged with assault. Or maybe the police would be too busy cheering on the sideline, when they heard what she’d done, to charge her. But, at the same time, she didn’t dare do anything to cause a commotion.
He was here for one reason, and she was well past the point of believing that it was because he wanted her back. He wanted something from her, but he had yet to play his hand and to let her know exactly what it was.
Chapter 16
By the time they finished eating dinner, Doreen was none the wiser of what Mathew was up to. Finally, when she ordered coffee and a piece of pie—something that she rarely afforded herself—she asked, “So why are you really here?”
He leaned forward and said, “You don’t believe I’m here for you?”
“Remember that part of being a good judge of character and understanding people?” she said. “No, I don’t believe anything yet.”
He shrugged. “It was worth a try.”
“Not really,” she said. “So what’s this about?”
“You have something of mine.”
She stopped and stared at him in surprise. “Seriously what? And why didn’t you just ask for it, instead of this elaborate ruse?”
“Because I figured that you wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Well, I don’t even know what it is,” she said, turning her hands, palms up.
“I’m missing a USB key.”
“A USB key?” In her mind, she was like, Just one? But, if it was just one, that was perfect. “I have only one key,” she said. “When I realized you were divorcing me, I collected information and spiritual affirmations on how to survive it.”
“Oh my, that must have been pretty rough,” he said, giving her a small smile that almost looked like quashed delight to think of her suffering. The longer she stared at him, the more she could see the facade cracking. She didn’t have a clue how she had even fallen for this guy in the first place or why she’d stayed. But that was one of those mysteries that would take a lifetime to sort out.
“That key you’re definitely welcome to have,” she said, “but I don’t think anything of yours is on it.”
“Well, I want to take a look.”
“Sure. It’s at home. I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Good,” he said. “So we can leave.”
She snorted. “You mean, now that you are telling the truth, you want to get out of here?”
“Of course,” he said, yet he remained seated.
“You and Robin were more alike than I thought,” she muttered, eating her apple pie. They’d always been in a rush. “It still makes me angry that I didn’t see the two of you carrying on around my back.”
“Ah, it was pretty easy to do. We used to meet at work most of the time.”
“And, of course, I never knew anything about your work because you never talked about it.”
“No, and she never came to the house, until you and I were more or less done.”
“Right,” she said, not wanting to hear any more details; it didn’t matter that the woman was dead or that this was a long time ago. It was still her marriage, and she wanted to keep a few illusions that hopefully they weren’t cavorting in her own bed. The fact that Doreen and her husband had shared separate beds had always confused her. But it’s the way he’d wanted it, and, only over time, did she understand. “Well, as long as you guys were happy,” she said.
“Not even for five minutes,” he retorted. “The minute she moved into my place, she became this whiny, demanding witch.”
She stared at him in surprise and started to giggle and then laughed out loud.
“Hush,” he said, glaring at her. “It’s not that funny.”
“Well, it is,” she said, chuckling. “I mean, really? After all you put me through, I’m allowed to have a little bit of satisfaction in knowing you weren’t living happily ever after.”
“Of course it wasn’t happily ever after,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want her there at all, but I needed to keep her close.”
She stopped and stared. “What? Why?”
“Because she was trying to blackmail me,” he said in an angry hushed voice.
She stared at him. Now they were actually getting somewhere. “That’s terrible,” she said. “I can’t imagine what that was all about. It’s not like you’ve done anything
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