Hi, all. It’s time for another Flashback Friday! I’m sorry it’s later than usual, and because of that, you have until Wednesday (September 5) morning at 8 (CST) to get your answers to me. As always, a random winner will be chosen from a list of people who send me the correct title of the book the excerpt below is lifted from. Please (please) send all answers to lisa@lisagriley.com. The random winner will receive a $10 gift card from amazon or B&N. Good luck!

“Yeah, I guess it is. It won’t hurt to go to the Field and see what we can find. So tell me more about this Golddigger’s Folly. I don’t have to ask how you know so much about it. The one time the families visited the museum, you had to be promised two extra scoops of ice cream just so you’d leave the gem exhibition hall.”

She chuckled. “I was only seven, but even then I recognized the pretty and I was such a brat. Ah, good times,” she teased. “But anyway, Grandma and Aunt Amelia are the ones who nurtured my interest in gems. Every time Gran would bring me to the city to visit Aunt Amelia, we invariably found a way to squeeze the Field’s gem hall into the itinerary. Which reminds me; I should call Gran and ask if she or Aunt Amelia have connections that could get us a meeting.”

“With whom? The curator?”

“Yes, or a content specialist.” She looked at her watch. “Let’s see, they’re in Brisbane right now and there’s a sixteen hour time difference, so it’s about one fifteen tomorrow there.  I’ll call them once we finish up here. I don’t know if they can help, but they’re both members of the museum and I know Aunt Amelia served on the board at one time.”

“All right. So, tell me about the history of the diamond. I’m sure I can guess how it got its name, but give me specifics.”

Surprised, she looked at him. “You really want to know? Seriously?”

She looked so eager that he laughed out loud. She always did love telling a good story. It gave her an opportunity to perform. He pulled on one of her curls. “Go on. You know you want to. Besides, if it’s connected to the case in any way, I need to hear the diamond’s history.”

She settled back in her chair and folded her legs under her. “I know the diamond first showed up in L.A. in the early sixties. Juan Chambliss, who ran Chambliss Studios — which used to be almost as big and powerful as MGM — was sixty, married and with adult children when nineteen-year old Chrissie Tawnee blew into town. She looked just as you’d imagine her to look with a name like that: all legs, boobs, wide eyes, pouty lips and big hair. Oh, and she loved pink.”

“Ooh, sounds good,” he said with a huge, expectant grin. “Pull up her picture. I wanna see.”

Chuckling, she shook her head, but complied.

“Oh, yeah,” he said enthusiastically in a low voice as he took in the oversized breasts, narrow waist and dumb-bunny look in the eyes. Her black hair was held up in a pink bow, which matched the pink fur bikini and go-go boots she wore. “That’s a Chrissie Tawnee, all right,” he whispered and licked his lips.

“Perv!” she accused laughingly and playfully pushed his head away from the screen. She laughed harder when he shook his head quickly as if the slap had brought him out of a daze.