stairs, the fresh, cottony scent he remembered so well trailing behind Emma. Bittersweet memories best left behind.
“They were right here,” she said, pointing at the floor in front of her door.
“You didn’t touch the vase, did you?”
Emma pulled a key from her backpack and unlocked the door. “Of course not. I watch enough cop shows on TV to know better than that. I used a dish towel when I moved them.”
He resisted pointing out that the towel could have smudged any fingerprints when she lifted the vase. The vase of daisies sat on the middle of her island. Sam glanced around, not surprised that Emma had left her apartment so tidy. She’d always been a neat freak. He brought his attention back to the flowers. “How many people know daisies are your favorite flower?”
“You remembered?” Surprise laced her voice.
That and so much more. He waited for her answer.
“I don’t know—anyone who knows me well.”
Sam counted the flowers. “Nine is an odd number to send someone. Any significance to that?”
“As far as I know, not with daisies,” she said.
He shot her a question with his eyes.
“Trey sent me nine roses once, and he made sure I knew that nine was the number for eternal love. I figured the florist told him.” She shivered. “Maybe my secret admirer doesn’t know that. And maybe it only applies to roses.”
Sam was pretty sure whoever sent the daisies knew the meaning of nine flowers, and if he knew what her favorite flower was, it would have the same meaning as roses. Lead settled in his stomach. “And you don’t have a clue who sent them?”
“I wish I did.”
“Could Trey . . . ?”
“I doubt it. He never sent daisies when we were together—always roses, even though he knew gerberas were my favorite. He said daisies made him sneeze.”
“But you two aren’t dating now so he wouldn’t be around them. Did he always send nine?”
“No. Just that last time, after I broke it off with him. I told him if he’d wanted to impress me, he should’ve sent the kind of flowers I liked.”
It was too obvious for Trey to be their culprit, but then, maybe he was going for obvious. Sam unhooked his cell phone and dialed the sheriff. When he answered, Sam explained about the flowers. “I doubt there are any prints, but I’m dusting for them anyway, so we’ll be late,” he said. “We should arrive at Mount Locust within the hour.”
Once he disconnected, he hooked the phone back on his belt and turned to Emma. “I’ll be right back with my fingerprint kit.”
He retrieved the kit from his SUV and hurried back inside to find Emma drumming her fingers on the counter. “Are there any security cameras set up in or around the apartment?” he asked.
She blew out a breath. “No. There are only four tenants, three upstairs and one down, and she’s gone to visit her daughter, plus the owner, who is out of town as well. We talked about it at our last get-together, but nothing came of it. We should have bought one ourselves after our landlord refused. She’s older and doesn’t want to spend any more money than she has to.”
“How about someone else in the neighborhood?”
“Not that I know of, and their camera wouldn’t be pointed toward this apartment, anyway. I don’t know any of my neighbors very well either,” she said. “Maybe it’s like Greg said and the flowers are harmless.”
“Who’s Greg?”
“He lives in the apartment across the hall. Nice guy.”
“What did he say?”
Her face colored. “That I was pretty and it was probably just someone too shy to give them to me in person.”
That was possible. In fact, he’d like to think it was probable. Still, he wanted to check for prints. He removed the flowers from the vase and handed them to Emma, observing her stiff body. She hadn’t been this tense last night. “So, how are your parents?”
She frowned, then her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Good as they can be. Since you left, Dad became chief nursing officer at Merit, and Mom’s in Jackson. She’s an assistant district attorney and thinking about running for the top position when the DA retires.” Emma put the flowers in another vase and then sat across from him at the island. “I know what you’re doing—trying to make everything normal.”
He grinned at her and continued dusting the vase.
“They divorced, you know.”
“Yeah, I’d heard that, and I’m sorry.”
“When Ryan left, they had different opinions on how it should be