CHAPTER SEVEN
Perfect! Just perfect.
She stared down at the plastic in her hand, her anger growing exponentially.
The bastard.
When she’d read the wedding announcement on the little town’s new newspaper website, she’d wanted to scream. He didn’t deserve to get remarried. He belonged to her. They were supposed to do great things together.
But he hadn’t played along, didn’t understand why she’d blow his cover, hadn’t seen the big picture. One large bust and she could’ve been sitting in the Governor’s chair right now. Instead, she’d been disgraced by the mousy little thing he planned to marry. She’d had to leave the state and live with her whiny sister out on her farm like some shameful family secret no one wanted to see.
So, as she’d stared at the happy couple on the computer screen a plan formed in her head. She’d come back to this backwater town and find a way to destroy their blissful wedding plans. Of course she knew all about wedding plans and what could ruin them. Her wedding had been fabulous with all the major players in Columbus’ politics and the social elite attending. Every detail had been planned precisely and come off like a well-trained ballet.
Taking out the florist had been so easy, she’d laughed as she’d driven out of town. She’d returned with a clunker car she’d bought from a used car lot, cut and dyed her hair, put on frumpy clothes and used a darker makeup foundation to hide her freckles. A little slumping and glasses and poof, Penny Dorchester was born. She’d meticulously bided her time, living in the boarding house, making an appearance in town in just enough places to be seen, but not noticed. Thankfully her acting classes had come in useful and she’d practically blended into the scenery, all the time observing. When Henry looked frazzled trying to run the florist shop all on his own, she’d swooped in to be his helper.
What luck it had been to find the little journal Henry’s wife kept about who had sensitivities to which flowers. She quickly changed the order in the book. Helping Henry make those arrangements had been pleasurable. That was until the bitch and her sister showed up at the shop today. They’d completely destroyed her plans.
The call to the bakery had been a spur of the moment idea after she’d had to cart all those flowers to that nursing home.
She’d had one more plan to come rip up the wedding gown only to find…
She unclenched her fingers from around the plastic stick.
To find he was not only marrying the little fishwife, but they were having a baby, too.
That changed everything.
That couldn’t happen.
* * * * *
Dylan Roberts pulled into the driveway and back behind the house to park in front of the garage, glad to finally be in Westen. The weather in Ohio had shown its true colors today. Cold rain in Cinci as she’d left the hospital, then sleet and ice as she drove through Columbus. Thank God, the road crews were out early, laying salt on all the main highways to keep them passable. And snow the last hour of driving northeast of the state capitol.
Now she was in Westen, which already looked like a winter wonderland. She smiled.
Bobby was going to have a storybook winter wedding and a white Christmas to go with it.
Pulling her cell phone out of the car charger, she dropped it into her bag. She’d put it on mute the moment she left the hospital. It took her a few months as an intern to learn to have the thing off or on vibrate on her days off. Otherwise, she might get called back in by a resident or other intern, looking for someone to cover hours for her. Covering extra weekend shifts for the past three months had earned her the right for a Christmas holiday and she intended not to think of patients or medicine once during this time.
A light was on in the upstairs bedroom.
Probably Bobby packing for their sisters-only slumber party at the inn. Chloe had called her and asked her to swing by and be sure Bobby had everything, including her gown, so she wouldn’t have to come home in the morning before the wedding.
She climbed out of the car and tromped across the new snow on top of old, crunchier snow. Thank goodness she’d switched out of her sneakers she wore while on rounds at the hospital for her hiking boots. Nothing she hated more than cold, wet socks on cold, wet feet. On the porch, she stomped off some of the snow. Opening the door, she stepped into the retro-fifties kitchen and called, “Hello? Bobby?”
No answer.
She knew Westen was a small town, but surely Bobby and Gage wouldn’t leave the back door unlocked?
Footsteps sounded above her. Bobby was so busy packing she hadn’t heard her.
Dylan grinned. If she was very quiet, she could sneak up on her like she’d done so many times as a kid.
Carefully, she laid her bag on the countertop and slowly crept up the stairs. At the top, she turned and headed to the bedroom with the light on. The door stood halfway open. She fought a giggle. Bobby had the highest-pitched squeal when you surprised her.
She pushed the door open a little more and stepped into the room.
Something moved to her right.
She turned and looked straight into the muzzle of a gun.
* * * * *
“You didn’t have to come with me,” Wes said to Chloe as he pulled up outside Petal Pushers. He’d been surprised when she grabbed her coat and insisted on accompanying him to check on Henry. It was his experience that high-maintenance women like her usually put their own needs before everyone else’s.
“I couldn’t just sit in the office or back at the inn while some crazy person is trying to hurt my sister,” she said, climbing out of the cab to walk around the truck and gave him a saucy grin. “Besides, I meant what I told Gage. If this nut-job ex of his shows up here, you need to concentrate on arresting her, not on Henry’s safety. I can do that.”
Couldn’t argue with that. Been a while since he’d worked with a partner. And none had been as knock-down sexy as Chloe.
“Okay, but you do what I tell you. The woman’s definitely not above hurting someone to get what they want.”
She saluted him just outside the shop’s glass door. “Got it. You’re the big, bad guy in charge.”
Shaking his head, he opened the door for her. She was just as sassy as her older sister.
“Hello, Deputy,” Henry said, looking up as the jingling Christmas bells on the door announced their arrival. “I’ve just about got the poinsettias ready for you. Hello, again, Ms. Roberts.” He smiled at Chloe as he tied a red ribbon around the top of a pot covered in shiny green paper.
“Are you working alone?” she asked, coming to stand near the elderly man.
Wes moved through the front of the shop to where he could peek through the back door into the workshop.
“Oh, yes,” Henry said, concentrating on fluffing the loops of the bow. “I sent Penny out with all those arrangements to the nursing home, but she hasn’t gotten back yet. Maybe she got caught up visiting with some of the residents.”
Not likely. Wes’ gaze met Chloe’s. She was thinking the same thing. He gave her a nod towards Henry. She needed to distract him while he checked out the back room.
“Henry, I meant to ask you about these red flowers,” she said, leading him to the far corner of the shop where several bowls of tall red flowers sat. “What are they and how do you get them to bloom like that?”
Good girl.
Quietly pushing open the swinging door, Wes drew his weapon and stepped into the back room. Chaos. Only way to describe it. Looked like an IED went off in a hothouse. Somehow he didn’t think it looked like this when Mags was about. He checked the cupboards and under the worktable.
Nothing. Wherever Moira was hiding, it wasn’t here.
The back exit was unlocked. He pushed the door open. Nothing out there except footprints to the dumpster, then over to the drive where a car had set. The delivery van was still in place.
Carefully he approached the dumpster. The cloying floral scent hit him hard. He leaned in.
Yep. Just like he thought. Full of flower arrangements.
Flipping open his phone, he called Gage.
“Did you find her?” his boss asked immediately.
“No, and it’s a waste of time to go to the nursing home. She dumped the flowers out back and took off.”
“Yeah, we just talked to the charge nurse here. She never showed.”
“We’ll stay and help Henry, then see he gets home,” he said, holstering his gun once more.
“Good. Bobby and I’ll drive around and see if we can figure out where she’s gone. Although there’s not much daylight left.”
“See you back at the office in thirty?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Gage paused a moment. “You find any sign of her, call me.”
“You got it.” He pocketed his phone. He’d call Gage all right, after he had the bitch behind bars so she couldn’t hurt anyone. Because that’s what this crazy situation was escalating towards.
Wes went back inside, turning the deadbolt on the back entrance on his way in.
Chloe was still talking with Henry over at the table of planters. “So Amaryllises are bulbs you can get to bloom in the winter?”
“Yes, my dear,” Henry said, his face alight with the pleasure of his topic and audience. “The key is to pick a bulb with the roots still on, a pot just a little larger than the bulb and lots of indirect sunlight.”
“Henry,” Wes said, coming to join them. “Do you need a lift home?”
The elderly man looked at the clock. “It is getting dark out. Usually Penny has given me a lift home since Mags has been laid up. I don’t see well enough to drive in the dark. Mags will be worried if I’m not home soon.”
“How about if Deputy Strong and I help you close up for the day,” Chloe said with a reassuring smile. “And we’ll give you a ride home.”
“If you’re sure I shouldn’t stay and wait for Penny?” Henry said, already getting his winter coat and fedora.
Wes held the door for them, then waited for Henry to lock up. “Don’t worry. Gage and Bobby are already looking for her.”
And God help her when they found her.
* * * * *
Gage slammed his truck door shut.
“We’ll find her,” Bobby said, laying her hand over his. Instantly some of his anger and frustration dissipated.
That was the difference between her and his ex-wife. Moira’s touch had never been gentle or calming. Now that he knew love through Bobby’s eyes, he recognized Moira for what she was—a manipulative narcissist.
“I should’ve realized she’d try something,” he muttered as he turned the car on. “Should’ve seen this coming.”
“How?” Bobby asked.
“What do you mean, how?” He paused with his hand on the gear shift to look at his fiancée.
Bobby met his gaze with a clear, honest one. “How were you supposed to know what she was up to? Are you psychic?”
“No. I’m not psychic.”
“Are you a god of some sort? Able to divine another person’s intent?”
“Of course not. But I knew she was a borderline psychopath. She was willing to have me killed to further her career, for God’s sake.”
“Are you a psychiatrist now?” she asked, one brow arched, and ignoring the comment about his shooting to make her point.
“Bobby,” he growled in warning.
“Tell me, Gage. I’d really like to know.”
He clenched the steering wheel. “She was my wife. I know what she was like better than anyone.”
“The woman moved to another state for crying out loud. How were you supposed to keep tabs on her there? Do you have some secret group under your control that I don’t know about? She was out of our lives, or so we both thought. Any reasonable person wouldn’t have given her a second thought.” She reached to cup his face. “None of this is your fault. You couldn’t control the situation any more than you could predict Moira’s actions or the level of her hatred. Mags is healing fine and other than mess-up of the wedding flowers, Moira hasn’t really hurt anyone.”
He stared into her deep-brown eyes, reading both compassion and love in them. He turned his head and planted a kiss in the center of her palm.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked.
She gave him a soft smile. “I believe you caught me in your arms and let me dump trash on you.”
He laughed. The memory of how they first met one of the clearest in his life. He’d always remember her wind milling her arms before her ass that he’d been admiring settled firmly in his arms.
“I love you.”
She leaned in and kissed him softly. “I love you, too.”
His cell phone rang. “Dammit.” He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Great. “Hello, Mrs. Munroe.”
Bobby sat back in her seat giggling at the face he made. For some reason she found his busybody neighbor humorous.
“Sheriff, Precious has been very agitated today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The woman’s pit bull, Precious, carried on if a mouse ran across the roof.
“Well, I hope you should. It’s all the activity over at your house.”
He sat straighter and locked his gaze on Bobby, who quickly lost her mirth. “What do you mean activity at my house?” he asked, hitting the speaker button so Bobby could listen, too.
“Well first there was that girl who’s been helping out at the florist shop.”
“Penny?” he asked, handing Bobby the phone then putting the truck in gear.
“Yes. She came in from the alley. Had poor Precious all in a snit.”
“Did Penny leave my house?”
“No. And then another woman came. I do say, Sheriff, for someone about to get married you are certainly keeping time with too many women.”
“Mrs. Munroe, what did the other woman look like?”
“Tall, willowy. A lot like your fiancée, but with lighter hair.”
Bobby gasped. “Dylan.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Munroe. I’ll handle it and get right there.” He reached over and hit the end call button. “Call Wes to meet us at the house. No sirens. We don’t want to spook Moira until we know Dylan is okay.”