A Deadly Bouquet Read Online Free

assume we’ll be putting in overtime on this wedding?” After I’d nodded, she continued, “I have a ton of dirty laundry, and I need to go grocery shopping.”
    I waved her on. She hung the dustpan on its hook, then picked up her purse. Hesitating at the door, she asked, “You aren’t going to let Oliver’s death get to you, are you?”
    â€œI’m fine. But I wish I knew what he tried to tell me. Not to agree with Lew, but it sure seemed like Oliver expected me to do something.”
    â€œNot necessarily true. His mind could’ve flipped back to your earlier conversation with him. He’d talked about the spade. He saw you leaning over him. Put it out of your mind. We have enough to deal with when it comes to this wedding.”
    I made a face, but Lois didn’t see it. She’d already gone. I counted out the cash drawer, then glanced through the day’s orders, but saw nothing interesting. I checked the walk-in cooler to jog my memory as to what fresh flowers were available for Oliver’s upcoming funeral.
    Would Eddie want red roses for the spray on the casket or something earthier, befitting a gardener? Bronze and yellow mums with an assortment of greens—ivy, variegated pittosporum, and some gold-and-orange croton leaves—would be appropriate for a man who’d made his living from loving plants.
    I turned off the workroom lights and strolled up front, where I flipped the lock and put the CLOSED sign into place. I particularly like being in the shop when the doors are shut to the public and the lights are off. The pressure eases, and I can relax and let my mind drift. I stared across the street at Kelsey’s Bar and Grill and felt a need for an order of their curly fries.
    Two years ago, after my husband, Carl, had passed away, I’d lost one hundred pounds. My struggle to keep the weight off is an hour-to-hour battle. With the stress I’d been under, I yearned for a plate of comfort. But I summoned up some willpower and turned my back on Kelsey’s, staring instead at the shop’s shadows.
    This month was the second anniversary of my husband’s death. It had taken every one of those days to accept the fact that he was gone and my life was forever changed. For twenty-four years, Carl had been at my side. I’d been married to him longer than I’d been alone. We’d been friends before we became lovers. I could tell him anything, talk to him about everything under the moon and stars, and he’d listened, really listened to what I had to say.
    I hadn’t known the true extent of his faith in me until he became a deputy with the Spencer County Sheriff’s Department. He’d trusted me with the facts of cases he worked on. Together we’d explored possibilities as to what might have happened. We’d made wild conjectures. I was a great one for taking that “shot in the dark.” Carl had urged me to let my mind flow even if the picture seemed askew.
    Carl’s legacy had been a bountiful education, but the art of solving a mystery had been a fraction of his tutoring. From the first day I’d met him, he’d tried to teach me to trust and to forgive. I hadn’t been a willing pupil. When your heart’s been broken, it isn’t easy to give those emotions another chance.
    When I was eight years old, my father walked out of my life. For more years than I care to count, he was simply a name on a birthday card or a box of grapefruit at Christmas. This past December he’d come to River City for a visit, and I’d learned that you can’t have trust without forgiveness.
    I smiled sadly. It hurt that Carl wasn’t here to see that I’d gone to the head of the class. The lines of communication with my father were open. In fact, last night I’d gotten a call from him. He’d said he had a fantastic surprise for me and that it would arrive this afternoon.
    I wasn’t