Chapter 4 - Ask Your Florist
Marlo didn't sleep.
At 5:30 a.m., she gave up pretending.
She made coffee, checked Poppy twice, then stood at the bakery window watching every dark-colored car that passed.
By seven, she had convinced herself to call the police.
By seven fifteen, she had convinced herself not to.
What would she tell them?
A man took a photograph from a public street?
A stranger asked questions about a medical procedure?
Her ex-husband wanted custody?
None of those things, individually, sounded like crimes.
Together, they felt like a hand closing around her throat.
At 8:17, the bell rang.
Elias walked in.
Marlo was waiting.
He saw her expression.
"No tart today?" he asked.
"Who was in the car?"
He stopped.
"What car?"
"Last night."
Silence.
"A black sedan sat across from my apartment. A man photographed my window."
Elias's face became very still.
"Describe him."
"So you believe me?"
"Describe him."
"Forties, maybe. Dark hair. I couldn't see much."
"License plate?"
"No."
"How long?"
"Less than a minute."
"Did he see Poppy?"
Marlo's stomach tightened.
"I don't know."
Elias looked toward the ceiling.
Toward the apartment.
"Pack a bag."
Marlo laughed once.
"No."
His eyes returned to her.
"Marlo."
"You don't get to walk into my bakery, refuse to tell me anything about yourself and then order me to pack."
"I'm not ordering you."
"It sounded remarkably like an order."
"Then consider it advice."
"From what? A restaurant owner? A construction executive? A man people are terrified to talk about?"
Something flashed in his eyes.
"Ruthie talks too much."
"She barely told me anything."
"Good."
"No. Not good."
Marlo stepped closer.
"Someone asked whether delaying my daughter's heart surgery could kill her."
That got him.
The change was tiny.
But she saw it.
"You knew," Marlo whispered.
"No."
"You reacted."
"Because that's not normal."
"Neither are you."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Elias took out his phone.
He typed one message.
"Who are you texting?"
"Someone who can find the sedan."
"Who?"
"Someone useful."
"I don't want your people following anyone."
"You'd prefer theirs follow you?"
Marlo hated that she had no answer.
Elias put away his phone.
"Tell me about the medical call."
She did.
He listened.
When she finished, he asked, "Daniel Mercer?"
"Yes."
"I'll check him."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't know what checking someone means to you."
For the first time, genuine irritation entered Elias's face.
"It means checking."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Marlo folded her arms.
"Then get out."
Elias stared at her.
"Excuse me?"
"My bakery. My daughter. My life. If you want to help, stop treating me like I'm too fragile to know what's happening."
Something softened in his expression.
Then he nodded.
"Fair."
Marlo hadn't expected that.
He looked toward the apricot tarts.
"My mother used to make those."
Marlo blinked.
"What?"
"Apricot tarts."
The change of subject was so abrupt she almost laughed.
Instead she waited.
"Every Tuesday," he continued. "When I was a kid."
Marlo looked at the pastry case.
"Is that why you come here?"
"Partly."
"What's the other part?"
His gaze met hers.
"You."
Her pulse stumbled.
Before she could respond, his phone vibrated.
He read the message.
Whatever he saw erased the softness from his face.
"What?" Marlo asked.
Elias locked the screen.
"The sedan wasn't random."
"How do you know?"
"It belongs to a private investigations company."
Marlo felt cold.
"Who hired them?"
"I'm finding out."
"Preston?"
"Maybe."
"You said you'd stop hiding things."
"I said I'd answer what I could."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
The bell above the door rang.
Both turned.
A delivery driver entered carrying flowers.
Marlo stared at the bouquet.
White lilies.
No card visible.
"Marlo Hart?"
"Yes."
He handed them over.
"Who sent them?"
"No idea."
He left.
Marlo placed the flowers on the counter.
Elias's expression changed.
"Don't touch anything else."
She froze.
"What?"
He pulled the small envelope from the arrangement using a napkin.
Inside was a card.
Four words.
FRIDAY CHANGES EVERYTHING. WALK AWAY.
Marlo read it twice.
Then she looked at Elias.
"Walk away from what?"
"The hearing."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You always say that."
"Because whoever sent this wants you frightened."
"It's working."
He studied her.
"Good."
Marlo stared at him.
"Good?"
"Fear keeps people alive when they listen to it."
"I'm not giving Preston my daughter."
"I didn't tell you to."
"Then what are you telling me?"
Elias leaned closer.
"That someone wants you to believe the custody fight is about money."
Marlo's heart pounded.
"And you don't?"
"No."
"Then what is it about?"
Elias looked toward the staircase leading to Poppy.
When he answered, his voice was quiet.
"That's what we need to find out before Friday."
May you like
And for the first time, Marlo realized Elias Marchetti wasn't merely caught inside her nightmare anymore.
He had been expecting one.
