However, when the conversation finally shifted, I had a sense that he would get past this—we both would—and perhaps come out the better for it.
“Are you going back to the hospital?” I asked, mopping my nose with a hanky.
Darien slowly stood and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah. Sears asked me to pick him up.” He sighed. “They’re discharging him this afternoon. But something’s going on with him and Hesta. They were acting….”
“Weird?” After he nodded, I added, “Want to know why?”
“You told them about Kate.” He shot me a rueful smile. “I expect Sears’ll want to dissolve our partnership.”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
“Now you’ve lost me.”
I raised both brows at his puzzled expression. “Your secret’s safe. I didn’t tell him anything. This is something entirely different.” I hesitated. “You may have been a terrible fiancé, but you’re one of the best lawyers I know. Trace and I will need the best.”
Darien looked at me like I was crazy. “What makes you think I’d ever lift a finger to help him?”
“Because despite your personal failings, you respect justice. That’s what I’m counting on.” I powered up my computer and found Mrs. Campbell’s and Sheriff Gray’s mp3 files. “There’s something you need to hear. So grab a seat. I’m about to give you a chance to right a huge wrong.”
TRACE
____________________________
There was nothing I could say or do to change Shannon. Her issues had been ingrained from birth. So where did that leave me? Forever a slave to her annoying obsession with appearances? I loved her more than anything, but could she say the same? I doubted it. If she did, our relationship would be at the top of her list. So what was? Tongue waggers!
I scowled and stalked across the parking lot. This wasn’t my problem. It was hers. She had to work it out. I’d be damned before I’d spend another moment worrying about it. So I shoved Shannon from my mind, and instead focused on the task ahead. And that was picking Tori Mills’ brain.
Knowing the girl like I did, I figured I’d have to come up with a creative lie to get what I wanted. I may even have to do some sweet-talking. Women like Tori had the same buttons, and I’d poked hers too many times to mention in high school. If I was lucky, the store would be empty.
Bullshit was a dish best served without an audience.
I swung the glass door open and sauntered in. The sweet floral warmth of the tiny shop was a welcome change from the chill outside. Tori stood behind the counter counting a wad of cash. I glanced around. Not a customer in sight.
Hot damn.
“My, my,” I said. “Don’t you look delectable this A.M.”
Chewing gum like a cow chews cud, Tori shoved the money into the till. “Don’t start.” She snatched a pen from behind her ear, slipped a receipt book from her work smock, then slapped the narrow pad on the counter. “I already told you my customer records are confidential,” she said, scribbling on the paper.
I plucked the pen from her grasp, set it aside, stroked the back of her hand. “Aw, come on now.”
“You want something bad.” She walked her red talons up my arm. “I heard it in your voice on the phone.”
I resisted the urge to recoil. The harsh fluorescent light accentuated Tori’s flaws. Her skin looked burlap soft, and her paint-by-numbers makeup job didn’t help matters. Her bleached beehive must have taken a can of hairspray to assemble. She looked worn down. Used. Life hadn’t been good to her.
But I grinned anyway. “Be nice.”
“Nice will cost you dinner and a movie.”
I shook my head. “Not gonna happen. How ‘bout you just help me out of the kindness of your heart?”
She lifted a brow and cracked her gum. “I don’t have one.”
“Come on, Tori.” I grinned. “What do you know about calla lilies?”
“Plenty.”
I gave her a full-on smile. “Do you sell purple ones?”
Tori smirked, then nodded, but her hair didn’t move. She sized me up with a thorough once-over. “Hmmm. `Less you’re studying horticulture, I figure you must have courting on your mind. And considering where I saw you the other week, and who called my shop asking these same questions, I can only come to one conclusion. The rumors about you and Shannon are true.”
The girl was getting on my damn nerves. “Yeah, so?”
She tilted her head; her gum snapped and popped. “Don’t be dense. I never once believed you were guilty, and you know it. I even wrote you a couple letters in prison. Now you been out almost two months, and you’re just calling on me?”
“I didn’t see the point.”
Her expression soured. “If you’re trying to butter me up, it’s not working.”
“You owe me.” I leaned closer. “I took the fall for that motel room your drunk ass wrecked. As I recall, it was two bottles of Jack Daniels, me, you, Vickie Carson, a tub full of cherry Jell-O, edible body paint, a can of Silly String—”
“Fine! Their season is March to June. Normally we get them from California, South America, and Holland. If you want them anytime soon, forget it. They’re a special order item.”
“And expensive, right?”
Between gum cracking, she said, “You’re talking, lezzsee.” Her gaze hit the ceiling. “Six-seventy-five a stem. But during the off season, the price doubles.” She frowned and did the math. “It’ll run you about one-sixty a dozen. That’s not including tax.”
I gave a low whistle. “You get many orders?”
“Weddings. Especially in June.” She smiled. “But you want to know about January. ‘Least that’s what Shannon asked about.”
“Bingo.”
She tossed her gum. “He comes in November ‘cause he knows it’s a special order item. Gets a dozen for January.”
“Who’s ‘he’?”
She pursed her red lips. “Mayor Bradford. He claims they’re for his wife Francine. I asked him about it once and he mumbled something about them being for her birthday. That’s why I didn’t tell Shannon. It’s a delicate situation.”
Tori didn’t give a piss-pot about Shannon’s feelings, but in the interest of not getting sidetracked, I didn’t challenge her.
“How do you know the flowers weren’t for Mead’s wife?” I asked.
“Because I knew Francine before she started on Botox—”
“What the hell is Botox?”
Eying me with what looked like pity, Tori sighed. “Hon, you been in prison too long. Look, it’s not important. Anyway, Francine got her eyes done last year. She had the surgery at Temptation Memorial instead of Saint Peter’s in New Dyer. Probably ‘cause she didn’t want her friends to know. See, she just started doing Botox, hence the eye job last year. Spent a pretty penny on her lips too. My best friend works in billing, and—”
“Tori? Will you be getting to the point anytime this week?”
She gestured. “Dee Dee works in hospital billing at Temptation Memorial. Oh, and you do know she had a little boy the other day. I’m a godmother again—”
“Tori!”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Francine’s been telling the same lie since forever. That she’s twenty-seven when everyone knows the bitch is five years off. So when Dee Dee got her birth date from the billing paperwork, that made me remember the mayor’s calla lilies. She’d have to be a Capricorn or an Aquarius, but she’s a Gemini. You with me so far?”
“Um, barely, but go on.”
“Mead Bradford buys his flowers in January. That’s a Capricorn/Aquarius month. But Francine’s a Gemini. That’s May/June. Not to mention the fact that there are flower shops all over New Dyer. So why’d the mayor come here? Can you say mistress?” She wiggled a black brow. “Tracemore, if those flowers are for Francine Bradford, then I’m a natural blonde.”