gonna open the door, or what?”
“No, you’re gonna tell me through it.”
“My hands are kinda full here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Obviously, he knew Kyle was watching through the peephole. If he were an assailant, he knew he wasn’t going to have an easy time of it today. “Leave the flowers on the floor and back up ten steps.”
Kyle watched through the peephole. The flowers were lowered. A man wearing a black fedora perched low over gray eyes stepped back. He was older than Kyle would have thought, given the job. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, making an odd contrast with his hat. He held a clipboard and flowers.
“I said flowers on the ground,” Kyle repeated.
The vase of the flowers lowered to the floor.
Cautiously, Kyle opened the front door, careful to keep his weapon at the ready yet out of sight. One wrong move...
The delivery guy moved closer.
Kyle countered with a step forward, drawing on the guy.
“Whoa! Dude!” He raised his hands in the air. Fear widened the man’s gray eyes. “I need your John Hancock on the last line.” He lowered the clipboard slightly.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.” Kyle grabbed the clipboard and inspected the form. It looked legit. So did the flowers. The name of the flower shop was emblazoned across the top of the form.
“How long have you worked for this store?” Kyle asked.
The guy swallowed. “A few weeks. I’m lucky to have a job in this economy.”
True enough statement. The state of the job market had hit everyone hard. Kyle signed for delivery. “So who sent them?”
The guy shrugged and gestured with his chin to the vase. “There’s a card.” He tried to peer over Kyle’s shoulder. “Is the doctor home?”
Shoving the clipboard into the guy’s chest and pushing him back another step, Kyle replied, “She’s not available.”
“You her boyfriend?”
Kyle narrowed his gaze on the man. “Time for you to go.”
The guy held up his hands. “Hey, man, just asking. Didn’t mean anything by it.” He retreated, going down the hall to the elevator, then disappearing inside.
Kyle stared down at the array of bright flowers. A small white envelope peeked out among the blooms. Squatting down, he inspected the water-filled, fluted clear vase. He scrutinized the blossoms, looking for anything suspicious. There didn’t seem to be any substance coating the petals. He didn’t see any hidden items that would suggest the flowers had been tampered with. He carefully ran a finger around the rim of the vase to check for wires or anything that would indicate the bouquet was rigged with an explosive device.
When he was satisfied that the arrangement wasn’t fitted to detonate, he lifted the vase and carried it inside the condo. Brenda stood stock-still in her kitchen, her hands gripping the marble counter, her knuckles white.
Her upset had his insides knotting. He wanted to ease her fears. “It’s okay. Guy’s gone.” He set the vase on the counter. “Nothing dangerous here but flowers.”
Wariness crossed her face. She backed away. “Who sent them?”
“There’s a note card,” he said. “Do you have a plastic baggie?”
She opened a drawer. Inside were neatly placed boxes of plastic bags. “Which size?”
“Sandwich.”
She withdrew one and handed it over. He tore off a paper towel from the dispenser near the sink and used the sheet to protect the tall plastic cardholder from his fingerprints as he lifted the thing from the flowers and set it on the counter. He’d worked long enough with several ex–law enforcement personnel to know how to be cautious and preserve possible evidence. Still using the paper towel, he removed the envelope from the prongs and flipped up the seal.
He slid the card-stock note out and read the scrawling words out loud. “Hope your day will be better now. Are we on for next Friday? It’s signed Sam.”
A frown pinched the space between Brenda’s winged eyebrows. “A doctor at the hospital.”
“Your boyfriend?” From the dossier he’d read on her, she wasn’t married, engaged or involved in a serious relationship that they knew of. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone in her life. Kyle didn’t understand why the thought bothered him. Of course Brenda had to be seeing someone. A looker like her couldn’t be unattached. She probably had a dozen men clamoring for her attention.
She gave a vehement shake of her head. “No. Not even close. He’s too...not my type.”
Now why did that please him? And just what was her type? Not that the type of man she dated mattered. His job wasn’t to pass judgment or probe his protectee’s psyche. Though if they’d met under different circumstances... He gave himself a mental shake. Not. Going. There. “This Sam would like to date you, though.”
She sighed. “He’s asked. Often. Wants me to go to the hospital fundraising gala with him next Friday. He can’t seem to get it through his brilliant thick skull that I’m not interested.”
“The gala is out.” No way would he let her go anywhere near such a security risk.
She frowned. “I have to be there.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t. Your boss will understand.”
Her lips pressed into a firm line. A sign of acquiescence? He doubted it. But that was a battle they could have at a later date.
To preserve the note, he slipped it into the baggie and then placed it into his shirt pocket. “What’s this doctor’s full name?”
“Samuel Johnson.”
“I’ll have a background check run on him.”
She drew back slightly. “Sam would never hurt me.”
“Maybe the doctor has someone in his life who’d like to get rid of the competition. I need to know the players in this game.”
“Game? This isn’t a game! This is my life!”
The outrage and fear in her face twisted him up inside. He held out a hand, palm facing out. “Sorry, didn’t mean anything by that. Just a figure of speech. You’re right, this isn’t a game. I take it very seriously.”
Her lovely features turned stony. She went into the living room and sat on a plush chair. “I hate this. Hate feeling scared and out of control.”
He followed her and squatted beside her. “That’s understandable. And you’re doing great.”
“Yeah, we’ll see how I’m doing by the time this is done.” She scoffed and shook her head. “I can’t
