Chapter 8
After experiencing the torture of watching Stella walk away from me again, I stalked back into the kitchen on a fucking mission. Work would have to wait this morning.
“Sorry about the mess, Gram.” My tone softened as I took the wet towels from her to throw in the laundry.
“Oh, sweetie, this isn’t a mess,” Grandma Trixie responded, her voice just as consoling as her hand on mine. “The mess is whatever that girl is running away from.”
“We need to find out who sent those flowers,” I growled at Patrick.
The feeling of jealousy I had for Stella receiving flowers quickly switched to a feeling of protectiveness because of her reaction.
I didn’t know where these feelings were coming from, but they were too strong to fight so I just gave in.
I didn’t often use the fact that my best friend was the head of the police force for my own benefit, but today I had no reservations.
He ran a hand through his dark, almost black, hair. “And do what, man? You’re not a cop. What are you going to do if you find out who sent them? There’s nothing against the law about sending flowers to someone.”
“That wasn’t a normal reaction to someone receiving flowers,” I argued.
Logically, I knew he was right. But I wasn’t thinking logically right now.
The only other time I had ever seen someone so terrified was when Melody came home from Vancouver.
She hadn’t told us much, but what she did say—some man sent notes to her apartment, eventually progressing to pictures, making that the final straw to drop out of school and come home—was enough to make me want to kill someone.
“Melody,” Garrett whispered softly. He understood.
That caused Patrick to reconsider his thoughts, too, and the anger-charged atmosphere quickly dissipated into something much more somber. “Okay, we can go ask some questions, but there really isn’t much more we can do than have a conversation.”
“I know.” I breathed out a sigh. I knew it wouldn’t be much, but I was still grateful for his help.
Garrett’s hand clasped me on the shoulder, bringing my gaze to his.
“I’ve got to head to work, but keep me in the loop, okay?
” he said seriously, before his demeanor became playful once again and he gave me a good-natured shove.
“You know I’m always willing and ready to throw down for my big bro!
” he added, jumping back and forth with his fists up and ready to throw a punch.
I laughed and rolled my eyes at my brother’s successful attempt to lighten the mood as Patrick scoffed. “Probably shouldn’t talk about starting a fight in front of the chief of police.”
“Sorry, boys, that order was phoned in, it didn’t come from anyone local.
” Gloria’s brows furrowed at the card written in her own handwriting.
“They just said they wanted to surprise the new guest staying at the bed and breakfast, and because I talked with Trixie, I knew her name was Stella. But I’ll pull up the receipt, the payment information will have a name on it. ”
“Thanks so much, Gloria. We really appreciate you going out of your way,” Patrick expressed our gratitude as I nodded along in agreement.
“Oh gosh, this isn’t out of my way, you silly boys.
Especially not after you fixed up our deck this summer!
” Gloria and her husband, Simon, were Grandma’s best friends, basically like an extra set of grandparents to us at this point.
They owned Love in Bloom—Gloria’s pride and joy—and The Tool Box, the hardware shop across the street—which Simon ran.
Gloria’s green thumb was unmatched, growing plants that weren’t known to survive in our climate and making them thrive.
The success of her store showed it, too.
People travelled from all over Saskatchewan to place orders with Love in Bloom, where they were able to get unique flowers and colour variations they couldn’t get anywhere else.
So it wasn’t unusual for Gloria to fulfill an order by phone.
“Goodness, this is strange.” Gloria came back out from her office, holding a receipt.
“What is it?” Impatience fueled me.
“The order was paid for with a prepaid credit card. They would’ve purchased it like any other gift card, so it doesn’t give me any information on who or where it came from.”
I clenched my fists and couldn’t stop the ringing in my ears.
“That’s okay, thanks for checking, ma’am,” Patrick responded while giving me a cautious side eye.
“Well, excuse me, mister, but I am not ma’am to you.
Now, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what this is all about?
” As kind as she was, no one messed with Gloria when she meant business.
I think that was why she and Grandma got along so well, they were two peas in the same pod.
But where you’d see my grandma wearing bright colours, Gloria wore neutrals and browns. “To hide the dirt” she would say.
“A friend received those flowers, and I don’t think they were a welcomed gift,” I explained. “Could you please let us know—or well…let Patrick know if any other orders like that come in?”
A knowing smile graced Gloria’s face for a moment before she once again responded with absolute certainty. “You can count on it.”
“Thank you, Gloria.”
“A friend, hey?” Patrick nudged me playfully as we left Gloria’s flower shop to walk the block back to the police station where I parked my truck. “It’s about time you started making friends like that.”
“Cut it out, Pat. You know I don’t mean it in that way.”
Patrick shared custody of his son with his ex and was in the same boat as me—in the sense that neither of us had any interest in bringing a relationship into the mix of our respective responsibilities.
We used to hit up the bars a couple towns over to let off some steam, but even that lost its appeal for us lately.
“You saw how Melody was chatting with her last night and they made plans for today. Mel would have hated seeing Stella the way she was this morning.”
“Yeah, you’ve got that right. At least she’ll be in good hands if she’s hanging out with Mel.
” Patrick said as a goofy smile hit him.
If he didn’t think I saw the way he looked at my sister—and had from the time we were kids—then he had another thing coming.
Pat was a great guy, one of the best I knew, but he also had his own demons, and I was protective as hell over my sister.
We said our goodbyes as Patrick headed into the station and I hopped in my truck. I hoped some good old physical labour and chopping down trees would keep my mind off Stella and whoever sent her that note about finding her in another life.
“Hey, boss,” Stan greeted me as I arrived on the site for the day.
We had another section of mature trees to cut down for the Johnstons’ order, and in the next few days we’d be processing them in the sawmill.
A lot of other logging farms just did the cutting of trees into logs, but with my great-grandpa’s love of construction and building, he wanted to be able to do it all.
“Hey, Stan. What’s Carter’s deal?” At least he was at work, so I wasn’t complaining. Especially after having to chat with him yesterday about his extended lunch breaks.
“Heard his girl left him. Got him all worked up.” There was no doubt about that.
Carter looked ravaged and was using a hand saw to cut a log that we had a power tool for.
Although the late August morning was still a little cool, the sweat was pouring off him, making his tattoos that stretched from his shoulders to his knuckles glisten.
“Huh. I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone.” Not that I kept tabs on everyone in town, but I figured I knew the guys on my crew well enough to know something like this.
“Yeah. Blaire, I think is her name. Came in just kicking shit around, muttering about it.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Thanks, Stan.”
Blaire was one of Valerie’s friends, and if they were anything alike, I could only assume how high-strung Carter was feeling right now.
I guess he and I had that in common today—we’d both be using physical labour to let off some steam.