10
Are you sure you want to take on the Inglebys?” she asked, revving the engine. “You really do look as if you’re in pain.”
“I’m not taking on the Inglebys,” I said lightly. I rearranged my legs so the weight was off the bandaged one. “You and Sergeant Boyd are accompanying me as I deliver blueberry muffins.”
“And what was Ophelia reading?” Marla asked as she whipped her Mercedes out of the country-club parking lot. When I told her, she said, “Architectural Planning? I heard AMCC is going to tear down the existing ugly-ass clubhouse, and build something new. Maybe Ophelia could help them out.”
“Just drive.” Meanwhile, I punched in 411, got the number for Aspen Meadow Country Club, where I left a message, asking for someone to call me back.
“Why are you doing that?” Marla asked.
“I w
