Page 14 of Obsession

“The person didn’t leave his name on the card,” Sam said. “Thought they might be from you.”

“It wasn’t me. I would have signed my name if I’d sprung for flowers. Do you suppose it had anything to do with this?” He jerked his head toward the post.

Sam shrugged. “At this point, I don’t have enough information to tell.”

Trey let the string drop and stepped off the porch. “It should be easy enough to track down the sender. Whoever sent them must have ordered them from a florist since daisies don’t grow around here this time of year.”

“True, and I’ll be checking that out.” Sam had to admit Trey’s reaction didn’t fit a guilty person, but maybe he was a good actor—he certainly had a ready answer about the daisies.

8

Several cars were already parked in the visitor center parking lot, including a couple of Adams County deputy vehicles, when Emma pulled into Mount Locust. After realizing she would be late, she’d contacted Guy Armstrong, the head of maintenance, and asked him to unlock the gate.

Emma parked and scanned the grounds for the gray-and-white tabby that had showed up last night. It was probably hiding out from all the activity buzzing around the visitor center. When she entered the building, her volunteer was circling a Trace map for a visitor. Sheila was helping out this winter while Emma worked on the mapping project.

“I’m sorry, the Mount Locust Inn is off-limits today, but be sure to stop here,” Sheila said, pointing to the Sunken Trace. “It’s twenty-six miles up the road.”

After the tourist left, she turned to Emma. “What’s going on? Nobody will tell me anything.”

That was a first. Sheila could usually worm information out of a scarecrow. “We had a little disturbance here last night.” Emma set the bag of food on the counter. “Have you seen a cat around here?”

“Cat? No,” she said. “Must have been more than a little disturbance. Half the sheriff’s department is here. And since I’m having to turn visitors away, it would help if I could tell them why.”

“I’m afraid it might frighten them instead. Someone shot at me last night when I came back to Mount Locust for a file.”

“You’re kidding.” The volunteer’s voice dropped. “Who was it?”

“It was too dark to see. I just hope whoever it was doesn’t come back.” Emma poured the dry food in the bowl she’d bought.

“Do you think it was someone messing with that machine that came yesterday?”

“No, the intruder was fooling around with one of the backhoes.”

“You think someone was trying to steal it?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t want to destroy evidence, so we didn’t look around last night. I’m going now to check on the GPR machine and see if the sheriff has discovered anything.” She stopped at the door. “If I’m still with the sheriff when the GPR operator arrives, send him on up the hill.”

After Emma shut the door, she rattled the bowl of dry food.

“Come here, kitty,” she crooned, setting the bowl against the wall on the back side of the building. Almost immediately, the tabby rounded the far corner and made a beeline for her. Emma’s relief surprised her.

“There you are,” she said as the cat wound around her ankles. She didn’t want to forget to take the little thing home at the end of the day, but hopefully tonight no one would be shooting at her. She knelt and stroked the cat’s back. “You’re not very old. And we have to get you fattened up, but right now I have work to do,” she said and set out for the inn, leaving Suzy to her eating.

The sun felt good in the fifty-degree weather as she walked to the inn. Maybe they would have a return of warmer weather. Voices came from the back side of the cabin, and she climbed the steps and walked through the dogtrot to the back porch, where she caught sight of Trey.

Rats. She’d hoped he would not be here. Emma was tired of repeating that she only wanted to be friends. Just as she started to backpedal, he looked up.

“Emma,” he said with a nod.

“Did you find the bullet?” she asked.

“Yes. Judging from the position, even if you’d been standing on the porch, it would have missed you. Way too high.”

Trey was being extremely professional. She saw the reason why when Nate Rawlings stepped around the corner of the house with Sam and two more deputies. She recognized the older one. Martha Cooper was the first female hired by the Adams County Sheriff’s Department and had to be getting close to retirement age. Emma didn’t recognize the freckle-faced redhead holding a metal detector. “Good morning, Martha,” she said and nodded. “Sheriff.”

“Morning.” He nodded toward the deputy with red hair. “I don’t think you’ve met Chris Wilson. He’s from Vicksburg and is our unofficial photographer-slash-deputy.”

She exchanged nods with the young deputy and then turned back to the sheriff. “Have you discovered anything?”