Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) by Gail Roughton Read Free Book Online Page B

radar wasn’t usually wrong but it wasn’t infallible either.
    “That’s a really shitty thing to say if it isn’t true,” Ria said, still standing.
    “ The pits. Lowest of the low. But it’s true. ”
    Ria sat back down. “Then I’m sorry. I overreacted.”
    “You believe me?”
    “Yes.” She sighed. “Does that prove I’m a gullible fool? ”
    “It proves you’re a remarkable judge of character. Th ough of course, I’m sure—”
    “ That’s what Jack the Ripper would say, too.”
    “Exactly,” he said, and laughed.
    “What newspaper do you work for that I’ve never heard of?”
    “Mobile Reporter.”
    “Alabama boy.”
    “Guilty.”
    “What’s your book about? Or do you talk about it? Mobile’s full of history. Just as Southern as Macon, too, and a port city to boot. Why not stay there?”
    “Too much chance of gettin’ accused of airing other folks’ dirty laundry. You know how people are, they’d swear and be damned I was malignin’ family history. It’s sort of an overlay of the past on the present. Or the present over the past. That type of thing. I’m researching Macon in the late 1800s right now.”
    “Our house was built then.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, 1883 I think was the date of the first deed.”
    “I’m sure it’s beautiful.”
    “It is now. Looked like hell when we started.”
    “Macon’s a great setting for that type of plot, you know. It’s taken good care of so many of the older houses . And so much of downtown—some of the buildings still have the same use, did you know?”
    “I know in general, but not really in specifics. Are you getting that deep with your research?”
    “Oh, yes. I found some old maps. A lot of the old stores and government buildings, the firehouses. The churches, of course, the older residential sections. Those old downtown buildings—if they could only talk!”
    Ria laughed. She wondered what he’d say if he knew hers did talk. Or a t least it did to her.
    “What?”
    “Oh, just thinking.”
    “About?”
    “That you should show me instead of tell me.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Show me. Your Macon. The Macon of your book.” She stood up. “You through eatin’? Then let’s ride downtown. Show me what it used to be.”
    He stared. “This is probably cutting my own throat, but you did just meet me, you know.”
    “I had dinner with you.”
    “In the m all. In a crowd.”
    Ria shrugged. “You told me you were perfectly safe.” She’d lost her mind, no doubt about it. But she ’d eaten dinner with Paul Devlin’s double. A double who claimed to know all about Paul Devlin’s Macon.
    “Well, to tell the truth, I left my car up at the Auto Service Center for an oil change, thought I’d stroll the m all and get some errands out of the way, told them just to leave it out front when they closed.”
    “My car’s sitting right in the parking lot. I’ll bring you back.”
    He hesitated. Then he stood suddenly and picked up the trash.
    “You live downtown, you’ll have to come all the way back out.”
    “I don’t mind. I like Macon at night.”
     

 
    Chapter Ten
     
     
    She waited for his reaction when he saw her car. She loved her car. And hadn’t m et a man yet who didn’t want to date her for it.
    “Wheee!” He gave a low whistle under his breath. “I thought you said you weren’t an established attorney?”
    “I’m not.”
    “Then you’re independently wealthy.”
    “Not hardly. It’s a classic, alright, but not a really out-of-sight classic like a ‘56 T-Bird or a Shelby.”
    “Still.” Paul walked around it, stroking the finish of the ’65 Mustang convertible . Candy a pple r ed , black top and black interior. “It’s beautiful.”
    “And it cost all of $2,000 or so, brand-new,” said Ria, unlocking the doors. “Plus I think it’s had four transmissions and three new motors, and the upholstery and top were replaced about six years ago. Daddy redid it one more time and gave it to me when I