Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“I—yeah,” Bianca said, shutting the door. “I didn’t expect anyone to be up.”
Mrs. Shiller smiled. “Were your friends still on the porch?”
“Yes.” Bianca fought a smile. “That was kind of you to give them dinner.” She sniffed. “These are beautiful. Who gave you roses?”
Mrs. Shiller placed the vase on the table near the door. “They’re for you.”
“For me?” Bianca paused.
“Yes.” Mrs. Shiller pulled out a sealed white envelope, her lips pursing. “They were on the front porch, and I don’t know who they’re from. I even held this to the light but couldn’t read anything.” She handed it to Bianca and didn’t move.
Bianca took the envelope and studied the roses. They were spectacular. “Did these arrive before or after my friends did?”
“Before. Maybe about fifteen minutes? Someone rang the bell, but when I opened the door, only the roses waited for me.” Mrs. Shiller squinted, looking closer at the envelope. “Well?”
Well, all right. Bianca tore open the envelope. Was there any chance Adam had sent the flowers? She’d never admit it, but the idea sent a small thrill through her. Maybe not so small of one. He didn’t seem like a roses type of guy, but he was trying to get her into bed.
She pulled out the card to read:
You looked lovely tonight.
Her throat tightened as she read the rest.
Although a little tired. I’d like to help you with that.
The rain started in earnest, drumming against the porch roof and windows, the sound filling the space around them.
Mrs. Shiller ducked her head to read. “That isn’t signed.”
Bianca frowned, instinct ticking at the base of her neck. “No, it isn’t.” Yeah, Adam would like to help her in all sorts of ways, but the note didn’t sound like him. Not that she knew him. Maybe he played weird games like this.
Mrs. Shiller rocked back on her purple slippers. “You looked lovely but tired? That’s what they call one of those backhanded compliments, you know? The whole ‘your butt doesn’t look as big as usual in those jeans’ type of thing. Who would send that?”
Bianca swallowed. “I’m not sure.” She looked down at Mrs. Shiller’s faded blue eyes. “There can’t be more than one florist in town, right?”
“Right.” Mrs. Shiller pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and quickly pressed buttons before holding it to her ear. “Hi, Ellen, this is Mrs. Shiller. How are you, dear?” She listened and then nodded. “I’m sorry to bother you so late at night, but we had a flower delivery here, and the card isn’t signed. Could you tell us who sent the flowers?” She tapped one nail against her pink lips. “I see. Okay. Thank you.” She ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket. “Ellen says nobody bought roses from her this week. Maybe they came from Billings?”
Bianca eyed the innocuous card. “I met Ellen earlier at the meeting, and she seemed nice. But is there any chance she’s protecting somebody?”
Mrs. Shiller straightened. “I don’t know. She hasn’t been here long, so I don’t know her well yet. But who in the world would she be protecting?”
Bianca read it again. “The wording is weird.”
“Yep.” Mrs. Shiller peered up at her. “Should we call the sheriff?”
The fragrant blooms filled the night with their rich scent. “And say what? Somebody gave me flowers?” Bianca shook her head. “The note isn’t threatening. However, how many florists do you think there are in Billings?”
“Maybe ten to fifteen? And that doesn’t count the ones you can get in the mail. Plus, some people can grow roses this pretty. It’s early in the year, but the sunnier places in Montana make that possible.”
Bianca shrugged out of her coat. Maybe Clancy or Ewan had seen somebody leave the flowers. She’d talk to them in the morning.
Mrs. Shiller picked up the vase again, adjusting her grip. “I’ll put these in the parlor. The smell will carry better in there. Also, I’m free tomorrow. I’ll call the florists in Billings.”
“That’s not necessary.” Bianca flopped her coat over her arm.
“It’s okay. I’ve always wanted to be a detective.” Mrs. Shiller placed the vase near the piano. “Can I get you any tea or a snack?”
“No, thank you.” Bianca smiled and refused to look at the flowers again. “I’m heading to bed.” She strode up the wooden stairs to the far room at the end of the hall and walked inside, once again appreciating the white and mint green décor as well as the attached bath.
She took a quick shower and changed into her pajamas, slathering cream on her face before heading to bed, her skin still warm, the mirror fogged, the scent of soap clinging to her. Just as she’d snuggled in, sheets cool against her legs, her phone buzzed. She didn’t recognize the number, and her heart rate ticked up, a flicker of anticipation she didn’t bother suppressing. “Hello.”