Free A Dozen Deadly Roses by Kathy Bennett Page B

plates.
    Donnie sat transfixed while his new friend finished the story.
    “So you see,” Mac said, wiping a spot of tomato sauce from the boy’s mouth, “you must never ever play near a flood control channel.”
    “I won’t.  I promise,” Donnie said, crossing his heart with his index finger.
    Mac and Jade made small talk while they ate.  Afterward, they all went to the kitchen and took part in icing the cupcakes.  Pretty soon, Donnie was yawning and rubbing his eyes.
    “I’d better get going.  I’ve stayed too long,” Mac said, stretching.
    “Can’t you visit a little longer?” Jade asked.  “There’s something I need to talk to you about.  Just let me give Donnie a quick bath and put him to bed.”
    Mac was surprised.  He’d never intended to stay this long.  He wondered what she wanted.  “Sure, I’ve got a few more minutes.”
    “I wanna eat a cupcake,” Donnie whined.
    “You can take them to Grandpa’s house tomorrow,” Jade quickly replied.
    “No,” Donnie said, scowling.  He crossed his arms across his small chest.  “I didn’t get no cookies at Grandpa’s and I want a cupcake now.”
    Jade sighed and wordlessly went to the kitchen and grabbed a still-warm treat from the tray, then hustled the little boy into the bathroom.
    Mac heard the water filling the tub as well as the muffled sounds of Jade and Donnie talking.
    Looking around the apartment, Mac sighed.  Jade had made a nice home.  Pictures of her and Donnie were prominently displayed around the room.  The furniture wasn’t cold and sterile-looking like the furnishings at his place.  Her sofa showed areas where the fabric was worn thin, and the bookcases had their share of dings, but her home was comfortable and lived in.  He’d had a home like this once, but some scumbag had stolen that life away from him.
    Recognizing he was driving himself into a dark mood, Mac descended on the paper plates and napkins strewn across the blanket, and carried them to the kitchen trash.  Then he carried the plastic bottle of root beer to the refrigerator.  He closed the door harder than he intended.  The florist’s box, perched on top of the icebox, slid to the floor with a dull thud.  The crimson ribbon snapped and the top of the package became dislodged.
    He started to place the carton on top of the refrigerator, but broken pieces of dried petals sifted from the box to the floor.
    Carefully using his fingers to peer inside the box, he discovered dead roses inside.
    What’s up with this?   He scanned the box quickly for a card.  Not seeing one, he replaced the lid, and set the carton back on top of the fridge.  Something was definitely weird about the flower boxes Jade was getting.  Did they all contain dead flowers?  If so, why?
    He returned to the living room and folded the blanket.  Seeing nothing else to put away, he sat on the navy sofa and turned on the TV to the local news.
    Although his eyes focused on the images on the screen, his mind was racing.  This was the second box of flowers Jade had received in two days.  She looked like hell yesterday when she got the first box, and she didn’t look much better when he’d showed her the package tonight.  She also wore a gun in her own home.  Something wasn’t right.
    An ex-boyfriend might send one box of dead roses as a joke, but certainly not two.  The whole scenario stunk, but would she tell him what was going on?  His cop instincts were on full alert.  He’d have to come up with a plan to get her to tell him what was going on.
    A few minutes later, Jade returned to the front room and sank into the recliner.  Mac saw her gaze dart around the room and acknowledge the cleaning he’d done.
    “Thanks for picking up the picnic.  Sometimes Donnie wears me out,” she said.
    “He’s a great kid.  You’ve done well with him.  I’d always hoped to have a little boy someday.”
    Jade’s head snapped up and her mouth was set in a hard line.  “You know, it