I got up and went to the bathroom, then checked the time—it was after seven. I considered trying to sleep longer, but my mind had already started thinking about everything I needed to do before I went into work at noon. I doubted I’d have time to see Dick Stinnett today, because in the light of day I remembered I still needed to pay a visit to Heather’s aunt—and also that I’d left the rest of the tulips in my car.
Marco was still sleeping, so I started a pot of coffee, then slipped my feet into a pair of his slippers and walked out to my car to see if the tulips could be salvaged. I’d just reached the back door of the car when I noticed a pickup truck parked partially down Marco’s long, winding drive. I nearly ran back inside to tell Marco, but then I recognized the truck. It belonged to Wyatt.
He was watching Marco’s house.
I opened the car door and found the limp and wilted flowers on the floor behind the driver’s seat. I picked them up, hoping they might revive if I put them in water, and cast another glance down the drive. Wyatt was sitting behind the steering wheel, watching me.
I decided to ignore him as I went inside to take care of the tulips. After I put them in a pitcher with water, I set them on the table. I’d been quiet, but Marco started to stir.
“Do I smell coffee?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Guilty as charged,” I said. “It’s almost ready.”
“Where’d the flowers come from?”
“I bought some from Emmaline yesterday, and then I forgot about them. I took a bunch to Emily when I went for my visit.”
He laughed. “Emmaline Haskell? Did Emily know that?”
I cringed. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“I’m pretty sure they had a spat about flowers a few decades ago. Emily grows her own flowers in her backyard. She’s quite the gardener.”
That might explain her housekeeper’s attitude, although I suspected the woman would have acted that way regardless. “She didn’t mention it.” I pushed out a sigh. “But I got some extra bouquets, one of them for Heather’s aunt, in case you didn’t have a chance to get to a florist.” I’d meant to take one home to Hank, but that was looking doubtful now.
“Lucky for you, I got the daisies,” he said as he walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a bouquet of cut daisies and handed them to me.
“You put them in the fridge?”
He shrugged as he pulled out my creamer and put it on the counter. “I don’t know what to do with flowers, and they were in a refrigerated cooler when I bought them. I remembered they were in the car after we started watching the movie, so I went out and brought them in.”
The daisies were still wrapped in their plastic sleeve and looked about a hundred times better than the wilted tulips. “Thanks, Marco.”
“Helpin’ you where I can.” I could hear the guilt in his voice. It was killing him that he couldn’t do more.
“I’m trying to decide if I should go see Hilde before or after I see Bingham. I guess it depends on whether she’s an early riser.” I considered calling Ruth to see if she knew, but she was likely still sleeping herself.
“I’ll call my mom,” Marco said as he grabbed two coffee mugs out of the cabinet and poured coffee into both.
“You never talk about your mom,” I said, taking one of the mugs and pouring creamer into the coffee. I knew his parents had moved away after they got divorced twelve years ago. His mother had moved to North Carolina, and his father was in Knoxville.
“We talk now and again, and I know Mom was friendly with her.”
“Then did you know Heather?”
“Not really. Max and I were several years younger than Wyatt and Heather, and I really didn’t give her any thought. I was in college when she came back and she and Wyatt were together,” he said as he grabbed the creamer and put it back in the fridge, “and she was gone by the time I came back from school. I’ll call Mom in a bit.” He motioned to the door. “Do you want to sit outside while we drink our coffee?” He knew about my morning ritual with Hank.
“Um…before we decide on that, I need to mention something I noticed while I was outside.” I made a face. “Wyatt’s truck is parked at the end of your driveway.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a look of resignation.
“You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be angry? I’m not gonna invite him in and serve him breakfast, but if he wants to provide an extra layer of protection for you, I’m not gonna fight it.”
“I don’t need protecting,” I said. “I’ve hardly talked to anyone yet.”
“But if the real killer finds out you’re lookin’, they might try to stop you.”
I still didn’t think I had much to be worried about, but I wasn’t about to argue with a sheriff’s deputy.
“I think we should go sit outside,” Marco said with a mischievous grin. “It looks like a beautiful morning.”
“You’re terrible.” I shook my head. “Call your mom, and I’ll go take a shower. Then we can sit outside.”
I tossed my clothes into the dryer before I went into Marco’s bathroom. My shampoo and conditioner were still in the shower from the last time I’d stayed over. When I got out, I blow-dried my hair, then put on a clean pair of his sweatpants and one of his T-shirts.
Marco was talking on the phone when I came out, and he cracked a smile, pointing to the phone and mouthing Mom as he flapped his hand to pantomime that she wouldn’t stop talking.
Grinning, I refilled my coffee, while Marco said, “I’ve got
