Page 9 of Obsession

But he hadn’t met the others on his mother’s birthday.

6

Five thirty a.m. came much too early after a restless night, and Emma hit the alarm off button. Why had she told Sam seven fifteen? Oh yeah, cat food. The cat was one reason she hadn’t slept well. If she hadn’t been worrying about it, she’d been trying to figure out who had shot at her. Maybe she would just lay here for a minute ...

Her backup 6:00 a.m. alarm jerked her awake, and she stumbled out of bed. Should have gotten up the first time. An hour and ten minutes didn’t give her enough time for her usual run. After a quick bowl of cereal and a shower, she threw on her uniform and rushed out the door, almost stumbling over a white ceramic pitcher with gerbera daisies.

She gasped and glanced both ways, but the long hallway that separated her apartment and the one across from hers was empty. Who could have sent her favorite flower and why? Kneeling, she plucked the card that had her name printed in block letters.

Her fingers trembled as she opened it.Life is short. Enjoy each day.No signature, and the words were hand-printed like her name. A shiver rippled through Emma as she stared at the flowers, unsure what to do. No one had ever sent her daisies before. Trey had sent roses once, but he’d signed the card.

She glanced down the hallway at the other two apartments on the second floor; the one across the hall mirrored hers, the otherwas an efficiency at the end. Just then the door across the hall opened, and her neighbor Gregory Hart stepped out, dressed for his job at City Hall. “Good morning,” he said, barely pausing as he strode to the stairs. “Nice flowers.”

She had to look up to meet his gaze. Greg was a couple of years older than Emma, and at times she’d felt vibes that he had more than a passing interest in her.

“You didn’t happen to see who delivered them, did you?”

“No.” He shifted his briefcase to his other hand. His neck turned a blotchy red, but he was so shy the redness happened almost every time she spoke to him. “But I do know they weren’t there when I came back from my run at six.”

At least that narrowed the timeline. “Maybe I should call the sheriff.”

“I don’t understand.” His brows lowered into a frown. “You want to call the law because someone sent you flowers? It’s probably a secret admirer—someone who’s too shy to let you know.”

Emma didn’t realize she’d said that out loud. “I’m probably overreacting.”

“I think you are.” The redness crept from his neck to his face. “You are very pretty, after all. Just enjoy them.” He gave her a timid smile before checking his watch. “Well ... have a good day,” he said and hurried down the stairs.

That was the most conversation she’d had with Gregory since he’d moved in five months ago, and he definitely thought she was overreacting. But what if the person who sent the flowers was the one who shot at her last night?

Not wanting to add her fingerprints to the vase, she grabbed a drying cloth from the kitchen and gingerly carried the flowers inside, the pungent scent tickling her nose. It probably meant nothing, but she would tell Sam about the flowers when he came to follow her to Mount Locust. And maybe she’d knock on the door to the one-bedroom apartment at the end of the hall. No. Not a good idea. The young woman who lived there—Taylorsomething or other—usually didn’t get home until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe Emma could catch her this evening.

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

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