She grabbed the backpack she used as a purse again and hurried downstairs. The daisies remained on her mind as she waited for Sam by her truck, but she wasn’t going to let the unexpected gift take away her excitement over working with the ground penetrating radar machine today. She’d texted the operator not to come until after lunch. Surely Sam and the sheriff would be finished with their investigation by then. She just hoped no one disturbed the flag grid she’d spent half of yesterday setting up.
Emma checked her watch and scanned the street. Where was Sam? Late as usual . . . a little fact she’d forgotten. Some of their biggest arguments before they broke up had been over his tardiness. Back then, Sam seemed to have no concept of time. She’d hoped he had gotten better about it.
In five minutes, she was leaving for Mount Locust with or without him. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, and she yanked it out, glancing at the ID. “You’re late. Where are you?”
“Half a mile away, so wait for me,” Sam said and then he added, “Please.”
At least he recognized that he’d barked out the command and sort of made it a request. If she hadn’t wanted to show him the flowers, she probably would have left already. As soon as he arrived, he motioned her on.
She waved him down. “You need to see something,” she said after he lowered his window. “Park in front of my truck.”
Her heart hitched when Sam strode toward her. He’d left his bulky jacket in the SUV, and she tried not to notice how buff he was, like a running back, lean and muscular. Being in close contact with him might be very difficult.
“For your information, I’m rarely ever late now,” he said. “But Jace woke up with a fever. Jenny had an early morning parent-teacher meeting, and he’s too young to be home by himself, so I had to stay until Mom could get there.”
“It’s okay. Are you staying with your sister?” Jenny and her ten-year-old son, Jace, had recently attended Sunday night services with Sam’s mother at the same church Emma attended. Which meant Sam would probably go there as well now that he was back in Natchez. Or not. After the cool reception his sister had given Emma the few times they’d crossed paths at church, Jenny might try a different church. Emma would hate to be the reason why.
“Yes.” He tilted his head. “You wanted me to see something?” Sam was using his cool, professional voice again.
“Someone left flowers outside my apartment door. Gerbera daisies.”
“Who were they from?”
“Well, if I knew, don’t you think I would have said?”
7
Sam’s stomach tightened. Emma used sarcasm when she was nervous. He needed to cut her some slack while keeping his distance. Otherwise, being around her was going to get very difficult. “Sorry. Of course you would have. Are these the first flowers you’ve received from an anonymous admirer?”
“Well, yes.” She lifted her shoulder in a tiny shrug. “I’m not exactly the type to receive flowers from men I don’t know. Haven’t gotten too many from the ones I do know.”
He didn’t know why not. There was no denying she was pretty, leaning more toward the all-American look with her red hair and handful of freckles sprinkled across her cheeks. And when her emerald eyes weren’t pinning him against the wall, they reminded him of the lush greens of summer. He stiffened and took a step back. If he wasn’t careful, she’d slide right under the wall he’d built.
“There was a card with no name on it,” she said. “Just a sort of message that creeped me out.”
Focus. “What did it say?”
“Life is short. Enjoy each day.”
The skin on Sam’s neck prickled. He hadn’t paid much attention to the neighborhood, and he turned and scanned the area. One house was for sale on the street that dead-ended into the one Emma lived on, but there was no activity around it. Several of the larger houses had been turned into apartments with little access to parking, and cars lined both sides of the street. But nothing looked amiss. “This may be confirmation that you have a stalker.”
Color drained from her face. “Don’t say that. Maybe the shooting and the flowers are just a coincidence.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” He tried to ignore the way the desperation in her voice tugged at his heart.
“Then he may get more than he bargained for,” she said, fisting her hands on her hips.
That sounded like the old Emma. How could someone be so strong in the face of danger yet so fragile when it came to relationships? He nodded toward the house. “Show me the flowers and card.”
Sam followed her inside and up the stairs, the fresh, cottony scent he remembered so well trailing behind Emma. Bittersweet memories best left behind.
“They were right here,” she said, pointing at the floor in front of her door.
“You didn’t touch the vase, did you?”
Emma pulled a key from her backpack and unlocked the door. “Of course not. I watch enough cop shows on TV to know better than that. I used a dish towel when I moved them.”
He resisted pointing out that the towel could have smudged any fingerprints when she lifted the vase. The vase of daisies sat on the middle of her island. Sam glanced around, not surprised that Emma had left her apartment so tidy. She’d always been a neat freak. He brought his attention back to the flowers. “How many people know daisies are your favorite flower?”
“You remembered?” Surprise laced her voice.
That and so much more. He waited for her answer.
“I don’t know—anyone who knows me well.”
Sam counted the flowers. “Nine is an odd number to send someone. Any significance to that?”
“As far as I know, not with daisies,” she said.
He shot her a question with his eyes.
“Trey sent me nine roses once, and he made sure I knew that nine was the number for eternal love. I figured the florist told him.” She shivered. “Maybe my secret admirer doesn’t know that. And maybe it only applies to roses.”
Sam was pretty sure whoever sent the daisies knew the meaning of nine flowers, and if he knew what her favorite flower was, it would have the same meaning as roses. Lead settled in his stomach. “And you don’t have a clue who sent them?”
“I wish I did.”
“Could Trey . . . ?”
“I doubt it. He never sent daisies when we were together—always roses, even though he knew gerberas were my favorite. He said daisies made him sneeze.”
“But you two aren’t dating now so he wouldn’t be around them. Did he always send nine?”
“No. Just that last time, after I broke it off with him. I told him if he’d wanted to impress me, he should’ve sent the kind of flowers I liked.”
It was too obvious for Trey to be their culprit, but then, maybe he was going for obvious. Sam unhooked his cell phone and dialed the sheriff. When he answered, Sam explained about the flowers. “I doubt there are any prints, but I’m dusting for them anyway, so we’ll be late,” he said. “We should arrive at Mount Locust within the hour.”
Once he disconnected, he hooked the phone back on his belt and turned to Emma. “I’ll be right back with my fingerprint kit.”