Читать книгу Snow Signs - Jennifer Seet - Страница 15

Chapter Eight

Claire checked her image in the mirror and was satisfied with what she saw staring back at her. “Not bad for an old broad of 55,” she joked.

It helped to boost her ego, but the primary motivation behind the remark was to eradicate any worrisome memories and enjoy the evening at hand.

The retirement party would give her an opportunity to see friends, laugh, honor her beloved ‘Chief’, and relish the moment with him.

“And, get my mind on other things!”

She grabbed her coat and headed downstairs.

Turning the light on in the garage, she peered inside before remembering she had left her car in the driveway after running to the floral shop to pick up the roses.

She playfully smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand and smiled as she went out the back door, locked it, and walked to the car.

Claire was in a good mood as she thought about seeing her friends at the dinner. But she couldn’t put the day’s happenings behind her and therefore couldn’t resist looking up towards the front yard. Even though she didn’t really expect to see anything, it had become a habit, she admitted, almost an obsession.

Glancing quickly, she had her hand on the car door when she realized she had seen something new!

“Not again,” she groaned.

Claire fought with herself to open the door and drive to the party without a second thought, but she lost the battle. She let go of the handle and reluctantly turned to get a closer look at what she had seen in the snow.

Trudging up the hill, she thought, why am I doing this to myself?

As she edged nearer, squinting to make out the burst of color in the otherwise glaring white snow, Claire saw…red…more blood?

“No, it has a distinctive shape,” she whispered.

She analyzed the outline, still walking towards it. Long, slender, at one end…that part is darker in color…splash of red at the top.

Making her way closer and closer, Claire suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

A red rose! What would a rose be doing in the yard at this time of the year?

She picked it up and studied it carefully. Not stiff or frozen from the cold. The color of the bloom is still bright and the petals are firm to the touch, not limp like they would be if it had been outside in the frigid air for a while.

She glanced around, looking both ways on the road, to check and see if someone was nearby.

No one! You would think that I would see the person who left it. It’s too fresh to have been here that long.

Round and round, Claire twisted it in her hand like the questions twirling inside her head.

Hmmm…coincidences seem to be piling up. I’m taking roses to the party tonight. That started me thinking about Libby’s rose tattoo. What, if anything, does it all mean?

Dumfounded, Claire made her way back to the car, still holding the rose. This is crazy! I have to stop thinking about her!

She tossed it in the back seat and turned the key in the ignition, proclaiming as she backed out of the driveway, “Not going to let anything spoil the party!”