Mrs. Shiller ducked her head to read. “That isn’t signed.”
Bianca frowned, instinct ticking at the base of her neck. “No, it isn’t.” Yeah, Adam would like to help her in all sorts of ways, but the note didn’t sound like him. Not that she knew him. Maybe he played weird games like this.
Mrs. Shiller rocked back on her purple slippers. “You looked lovely but tired? That’s what they call one of those backhanded compliments, you know? The whole ‘your butt doesn’t look as big as usual in those jeans’ type of thing. Who would send that?”
Bianca swallowed. “I’m not sure.” She looked down at Mrs. Shiller’s faded blue eyes. “There can’t be more than one florist in town, right?”
“Right.” Mrs. Shiller pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and quickly pressed buttons before holding it to her ear. “Hi, Ellen, this is Mrs. Shiller. How are you, dear?” She listened and then nodded. “I’m sorry to bother you so late at night, but we had a flower delivery here, and the card isn’t signed. Could youtell us who sent the flowers?” She tapped one nail against her pink lips. “I see. Okay. Thank you.” She ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket. “Ellen says nobody bought roses from her this week. Maybe they came from Billings?”
Bianca eyed the innocuous card. “I met Ellen earlier at the meeting, and she seemed nice. But is there any chance she’s protecting somebody?”
Mrs. Shiller straightened. “I don’t know. She hasn’t been here long, so I don’t know her well yet. But who in the world would she be protecting?”
Bianca read it again. “The wording is weird.”
“Yep.” Mrs. Shiller peered up at her. “Should we call the sheriff?”
The fragrant blooms filled the night with their rich scent. “And say what? Somebody gave me flowers?” Bianca shook her head. “The note isn’t threatening. However, how many florists do you think there are in Billings?”
“Maybe ten to fifteen? And that doesn’t count the ones you can get in the mail. Plus, some people can grow roses this pretty. It’s early in the year, but the sunnier places in Montana make that possible.”
Bianca shrugged out of her coat. Maybe Clancy or Ewan had seen somebody leave the flowers. She’d talk to them in the morning.
Mrs. Shiller picked up the vase again, adjusting her grip. “I’ll put these in the parlor. The smell will carry better in there. Also, I’m free tomorrow. I’ll call the florists in Billings.”
“That’s not necessary.” Bianca flopped her coat over her arm.
“It’s okay. I’ve always wanted to be a detective.” Mrs. Shiller placed the vase near the piano. “Can I get you any tea or a snack?”
“No, thank you.” Bianca smiled and refused to look at the flowers again. “I’m heading to bed.” She strode up the woodenstairs to the far room at the end of the hall and walked inside, once again appreciating the white and mint green décor as well as the attached bath.
She took a quick shower and changed into her pajamas, slathering cream on her face before heading to bed, her skin still warm, the mirror fogged, the scent of soap clinging to her. Just as she’d snuggled in, sheets cool against her legs, her phone buzzed. She didn’t recognize the number, and her heart rate ticked up, a flicker of anticipation she didn’t bother suppressing. “Hello.”
“You thinking about me?” Adam’s rich voice poured over the line, low and unhurried.
She leaned back into the pillows, letting her body sink. “Should I be?”
“You absolutely should be,” he said. “Think how much nicer this rainstorm would be to watch if we did it together.”
She did like the sound of the rain splashing against the roof, steady and intimate, the kind of sound that made everything else fall away. “You are seriously horny.”
“You’re seriously correct about that. Only since you got to town, though.”
She quite liked that he didn’t play games. At all. The honesty felt like a caress through her body. “It has been a while for me,” she admitted, her voice softer now.
“Ditto.”
She wasn’t quite sure she believed him. “Did you send me flowers?”
Silence ticked for a moment, stretched just enough to be felt. “No. Should I have?”
She grinned into the darkness, biting her lip. “It wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” A faint rustle carried across the line. Clothing? The thought landed warm and slow. “Did you receive flowers?”
“Yes, but I don’t know who sent them.” In a small town like Mineral Lake, few secrets lived on. Perhaps she’d find the sender the next day. Or perhaps she wouldn’t, and that possibility lingered.
He chuckled, low. “That’s good to know. I’m sure you have more than one admirer in town. Do me a favor? When you visit Dawn tomorrow, don’t talk her into using Hawk’s place for filming. She’ll be delighted, and he’ll be ticked.”