Olivia leaned closer to the phone. “What did he look like?”
“Medium height, dirty-blond hair. He walked with a limp.”
Tyson glanced at Olivia, but she shook her head, letting him know that didn’t ring any bells.
“What time did he come?” Tyson asked.
“Around lunchtime. A lot of people were gone, so I thought it wouldn’t be a problem for him to get some things done.”
He thanked Erma and ended the call.
Then he stared at Olivia, trying to choose his words carefully. “I know I already mentioned this, but I think you should call the police.”
Olivia visibly tensed. “It won’t do any good.”
“Olivia—”
“Tyson, I’ve been through this before. It won’t do any good.” Her words sounded firm, unmoving.
He thought through the situation again.
“Okay then.” He tapped his fingers together. “Then the only thing that makes sense to me is . . .”
He hesitated, not wanting to sound crazy.
“Is what?”
Finally, he decided just to spill his thoughts. “I think this guy wanted to leave the flowers here for me, knowing what they would eventually do to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. He had no way of knowing you’d come here today. So someone set up this elaborate scheme, pretended to be a custodian, and left ten roses. He had to know this news would eventually get back to you. Maybe he even thought I’d take the flowers home with me. It’s all part of the game he’s playing.”
Her face went paler, but she nodded. “I think you’re right.”
“You have no idea who this is?” He narrowed his eyes as he studied her face.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
Silence fell between them.
Olivia stood and nodded toward the door, suddenly seeming anxious to get out of there.
He couldn’t blame her.
“I should go.”
“I’m coming with you.” Tyson stood.
She placed her hand on his chest. “No . . . I’ll be okay.”
His jaw tightened. He didn’t want to be too forceful. But if someone was threatening her . . .
“Let me walk you to your car, at least,” he finally said.
Her expression relaxed, and she nodded. “I’ll let you do that.”
Relief filled him.