Authors: Susan Page Davis
The police car Joe had followed came down the road, slower this time, and pulled to a stop. The driver cut the siren and got out.
Joe wasn’t in the mood to wait while the state police and the local cops scrimmaged over whose turf they were on. He pushed aside the branches that nearly touched the hood of the car and struck off down the path.
“Sir,” the trooper called. “You can’t enter the crime scene, sir.”
Joe ignored him and kept walking. He heard someone running to catch up with him.
“Joe, they’ll organize a search,” Nick said.
“No time.”
“You’ll compromise the scene.”
Joe whirled on him. “Petra’s in trouble. She may be dead. You can’t keep me away from that pond.”
They walked onward. Nick looked at him once and said, “Joe—”
“What?”
Nick sighed and shook his head.
They broke out of the dark woods into a clearing mostly filled with a serene pond about two hundred yards wide. A stream trickled away out of it toward the highway.
Good fishing spot.
Two uniformed officers were searching through the tall grass near the edge of the water with flashlights.
Nick touched his arm. “Stay here. You don’t want to make them mad. Let me talk to them.”
Joe ran a hand through his hair and nodded. He respected the protocol of the crime scene. Nick left him and approached the officers. In the distance, a siren began and then faded. The ambulance, Joe thought. He hoped the fisherman made it.
He looked around. Something lay on the ground a few yards away and he eased toward it.
Nick came back to him.
“They found a lot of jumbled footprints and the man’s fishing gear. No sign of Petra or Harwood.”
Joe nodded toward the ground. “What about this?”
“Yeah, they saw that rope lying there beside the rock. Don’t know if Harwood brought it or what. It could have been there awhile.”
“What now?”
“The trooper out by her car is organizing a search. If we don’t find her by morning, they’ll ask for divers to check the pond.”
Joe felt as if his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. He sucked in a breath. “Okay.”
Nick laid a hand on his shoulder. “The fisherman said Petra—that is, the woman—dived into the water. Then Harwood shot him. He doesn’t know what happened to the two of them after that. He crawled over to his knapsack, got out his cell phone and called 9-1-1.”
“What did he say about the woman?”
“She was pretty, and she was wearing a light blue outfit. He thought it was a uniform.”
“That’s what she wears to work.” Joe looked out over the dark water. He couldn’t bear to think her body might lie beneath the surface while they stood here talking. “What can we do?”
“Let’s go back to the cars. They’re going to keep patrolling along the roads that bound this stretch of woods.”
“It’s a big patch.”
“So I’m told. Come on.” Nick touched his arm and steered him back toward the path.
When they reached Petra’s car, Joe saw that several more vehicles had arrived and a knot of people clustered around the trooper.
“…we’ll patrol these roads continuously,” the officer said. “The canine unit should be here soon. The suspect is armed, and he didn’t hesitate to shoot a witness. We don’t want anyone else hurt. I don’t want anyone going in the woods except law enforcement personnel wearing body armor.”
Joe noted that a reporter was already on the scene, scribbling in a notebook. Another cruiser approached with its lights flashing. The blinding blue strobe drew his eyes. That made five police cars and counting.
The car was a couple of hundred yards away when a figure stumbled out of the woods onto the gravel road in the path of the cruiser.
The police car swerved and ground to a halt. Petra stopped her frantic run and gasped for breath, fearing her knees would buckle. An officer leaped from the car and grabbed her upper arms.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
“Yes. No. A man tried to kill me.” She panted and bent over, hugging her aching side.
“Petra, it’s me.”
She whirled at the familiar voice and focused on the man running toward her out of the shadows.
“Joe!”
She threw herself into his arms.
He held her as the policemen and volunteers gathered around, staring. She was dripping wet, but that didn’t stop him.
“It’s all right,” he said. “You’re safe.”
Nick stepped up behind her and draped his jacket over her shoulders. Petra sobbed and Joe wrapped one arm over the jacket and pulled her closer. He pushed her wet hair aside and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Lord. Thank you for bringing Petra back to me.” Then he looked deep in her eyes. “Come on. We’ll get you warm.” He kissed her temple, and she clung to him.
An hour later Petra lay on a gurney in the exam room waiting for the doctor to return.
“This is silly,” she said. “I’m not hurt.”
“Just let the doc look you over,” Joe murmured. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You’re still cold.” He pulled the blanket up to her chin.
“I thought I’d freeze after I got out of the water,” she admitted. “It turned really cold tonight.”
“And you’re probably in shock, too.”
The nurse who had attended her earlier poked her head in the doorway. “Miss Wilson, your sisters are in the waiting room. Would you like them to wait there or to come in here?”
“Well…how long is the doctor going to be?”
“Let them come in,” Joe growled, and she stared at him in surprise.
The nurse went out.
“What’s wrong, Joe?” Petra asked, sliding her fingers through his dark hair.
He leaned into her touch. “Nothing. That is, nothing except I almost lost you tonight, and it was my own stupid fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. Don’t say that.”
“I feel like it was. And I hadn’t even gotten around to asking you if you like baseball.”
She frowned at that in momentary confusion. “Red Sox, but…”
“Fantastic.”
“Joe, you helped collect the evidence. And if you hadn’t done all that background work on Rex, no one would have known about his family’s property in Sidney. The police wouldn’t have been looking for me up here.”
“That’s beside the point. If Nick and I had acted earlier, you might not have been in this fix at all.” He glanced toward the doorway. “You need to let your sisters fuss over you. You go and almost get killed, and they don’t even know what’s going on. You need to let them in, Petra. Let them love you.”
She looked into his eyes, knowing he was right. “I will. Thank you.”
He leaned over to kiss her.
“Well, excuse us,” Keilah said from the doorway. “We heard our sister was in here having a crisis.”
“You heard wrong, kiddo,” Joe said. “They probably said getting kisses.”
Petra smiled. “This is ridiculous. I’m not hurt. I didn’t even get any leeches.”
“Leeches?” Bethany pushed past Keilah and came to stand by the gurney. “Petra, what is going on?”
“The police said you were kidnapped,” Keilah added. “Scared us to death.”
Petra sighed. “Sit down, girls. I have a story to tell you. And if the doctor hasn’t checked in by the time I’m done telling it, I’m leaving anyway. I want to go home and sleep in my tower room and snuggle up to my dog.”
“Well, hey,” said a deep voice. She looked up and saw Nick Wyatt lounging against the doorframe.
“Hello, Nick,” Petra said.
“Nicky, my man.” Joe stood. “What’s the word?”
“We got Harwood. He was crashing around in the woods not far from where Petra came out onto the road. If that fisherman hadn’t been able to call us…Well, let’s not think about that. The doctor says he’s going to make it.”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” Petra said.
Nick walked to the gurney and smiled at her. “You don’t look so bad now that you’ve dried off.”
“Thank you, I think.” She reached to squeeze the hand he extended.
“Joe, can I speak to you outside for a minute?” Nick asked.
“Sure.” He looked at Petra. “Don’t go away. I’ll be back.”
“Don’t worry,” said Keilah, appropriating Joe’s chair. “We won’t let her go anywhere. She’s going to tell us every miserable detail.” As the two men left the room, she turned to Petra. “Who is that gorgeous man?”
Petra smiled, feeling suddenly very tired. “Joe’s friend. He’s married.”
Keilah pouted. “Too bad. Okay, spill it.”
“Yes, and start at the beginning.” Bethany walked around the gurney and sat on the windowsill on the other side.
Petra lay back against the pillows and looked up at the tiled ceiling. “It all started the night I witnessed a murder.”
P
etra worked feverishly at the kitchen counter one afternoon a week later, when Keilah and Bethany came home from the shop. She had a vase filled with deep red roses and a canning jar overflowing with pink ones.
“Hey, have you guys got another vase?” she asked.
Keilah stared at the white roses still in their box and green tissue paper. “What on earth? Are you starting a florist shop?”
Petra laughed. “No, they’re all from Joe.”
Bethany laid her purse on the kitchen island. “I think there’s one in the pantry.” She came back a moment later with a large jardiniere.
Petra’s phone rang and she grabbed it from the counter.
“Joe! Hey!”
Keilah grinned and whispered, “Go talk to him. We’ll fix these for you.”
Petra walked through to the airy living room as Joe asked, “How you doing?”
She chuckled. “I’m doing great. Overrun with roses.”
“Oh.” He paused. “Do you like them?”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope it wasn’t too…”
She listened carefully, trying to catch his mood. “I did wonder why there were three bouquets.”
“Well…I got to the florist shop and they had all these flowers. I didn’t know what to choose. The lady started telling me that all the colors of roses have different meanings. So I picked three that I thought might…express your feelings. I hope you’ll pick the ones you like best for our date tonight.”
Petra frowned. “I like them all. What did she say they mean?”
“Well…Tell you what, why don’t you wear a white one tonight if you just want to be friends, now that your case is closed and we don’t have to work together anymore.”
She didn’t like the sound of that, but Joe rushed on.
“Or a pink one if you want to keep dating for a while and sort of keep what we have now. I mean…I think we have something pretty good, but…The red ones are for…for if you’re ready to think about it.”
“Think about what?” she asked, baffled.
“Well, if you want to get married.”
She caught her breath. If this was a proposal, it was the strangest one she’d ever heard of. But she found her pulse throbbing in anticipation. “Okay…. I’ll see you later, Joe.” She hung up and walked back to the kitchen, still smiling.
“What’s so funny?” Bethany asked. She and Keilah had combined the three colors of roses into one huge bouquet.
“That looks great,” Petra said. “I’m just laughing at Joe. He’s so sweet and funny.” She told them the mysteries of the floral language.
Bethany smiled and swept the clippings from the counter into the trash can. “I think he’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. But I wonder what yellow roses mean.”
Keilah laughed. “That florist really sold him. If she’d kept on with her spiel, I bet she could have talked Joe into two or three dozen more.”
“Oh, stop it.” Petra put her hand out to touch one of the delicate blooms and bent to sniff them. She sighed.
“We could make you a corsage with all three,” Bethany suggested.
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need for that,” Petra assured her.
Joe arrived on the dot of seven, and Keilah let him in.
“Petra will be right down, Joe.” She led him into the living room, and Joe stopped short. The flowers he’d sent were all in a big ceramic jug on a table between the windows.
Keilah nodded at them. “Impressive, I must say.”
“Uh, thanks.” Joe gulped. Maybe he’d overdone it a bit. Would Petra feel he was pushing her? He wished he could go back a few hours and forget about, uh, floral communication.
“So what did you and Nick find out about the Toby jugs?” Keilah asked.
Joe turned to her in relief. This he could handle. “Well, we knew Harriet Foster’s mother left the Toby jug collection to Harriet in her will. Her brother told the police that when Harriet came for the funeral, Rex told her he would have it packed up and shipped to her. Instead, Rex sold it and kept the money. He kept giving her excuses. After waiting nearly four years and getting nothing, Harriet drove to Portland to confront Rex about it.”
“That’s what Petra saw.”
“That’s what I figure,” Joe agreed. “She grabbed the one remaining piece from the collection and threatened to go to the police.”
Keilah wrinkled her nose. “He kept the best Toby jug for himself, and when she touched it, he panicked and strangled her.”
“Yup. If Petra hadn’t seen it and called the cops, he’d have gotten away with it.”
Keilah nodded. “I’m so proud of her. Excuse me, Joe. Beth and I are working on the books. Yell if you need anything.” She squeezed his arm and disappeared through the hall door.
Joe shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to get a closer look at the flowers. That was a lot of roses. Their fragrance filled the air.
Have I still got a chance with her? Maybe this was stupid.
He turned away. No doubt Petra would wear a white rose tonight and put him out of his misery. Maybe he’d dressed up for nothing. He flipped up the end of his new necktie and eyed it critically. He probably could have worn an old one and she wouldn’t have noticed.
He spun back toward the vase and tried to count the white blossoms. Twelve. No, thirteen. That couldn’t be right. He tried counting the pink, but his nerves made him keep glancing toward the doorway and he couldn’t keep track. Well, there were eleven or twelve red, he was sure of that much. What if the florist hadn’t counted right?
A swish that only a woman’s skirt could make came from the doorway, and he whipped around. She’d caught him.
“Hello, Joe. They are fabulous, aren’t they?”
Petra smiled so brilliantly that it took him a moment to register the rose she held in her hands. She walked slowly toward him, the deep red of the bloom contrasted against her filmy white dress. He couldn’t speak, much as he wanted to.
She stopped a foot from him and twirled the stem, looking down at the flower. Then she raised her gaze to meet his.
“I like this one,” she whispered.
He pulled her to him, then jerked away, realizing he would crush the rose between them. Probably that thing had thorns. She smiled and held it out carefully as she wrapped her arms around him, holding the stem behind him as she settled into his embrace. He looked down into her eyes. He couldn’t think of anything clever to say, so he went with the obvious.
“Petra, I love you.”
She raised her lips to meet his.
“I love you, too.”
Perfect.