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When Carter found a sunflower on the hood of his truck,
which sat parked at the hardware store, he suggested to Rosie that they see if
Irene would let them stay the night at her place. Usually only bartenders were
welcome at Irene’s, but tonight was different. Watchful eyes had sent the rumor
mill slowly turning down Brewery Boulevard creating a common knowledge that
wherever Rosie went, Carter went too.
The two walked to Irene’s front door, while police searched
Carter’s truck for possible evidence. Rosie didn’t know about the sunflower
trail just yet though he’d have to tell her later.
“You know where the spare room is, Rosie,” Irene said. “Carter,
you’re welcome to sleep on the couch. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t do
mixed gender sleeping arrangements under my roof.”
Rosie laughed. She hadn’t laughed in weeks. She was stressed
and nervous and vulnerable. Though she was grateful for Carter letting her stay
at his house, they hadn’t found much to talk about. But tonight she would have
Irene to break the awkward silence.
She had walked into the spare room and she could hear Irene
and Carter talking in the kitchen. And from what she could make out, Carter was
telling Irene about the investigation. The door was cracked open, so Rosie
leaned against it for a better listen.
Carter had said something about sunflowers and police
searching his truck.
“But they don’t have a suspect, do they?” Irene said. “Sometimes
I see the story on the news, but it never says if police have anyone they’re
investigating.”
“No, there isn’t one,” Carter said. “I just don’t get it. It’s
like the Rosie’s attacker wants us to find out who they are by leaving this
trail, but it’s not enough to lead the police down a path worth pursuing. It’s
a giant tease.”
“How has Rosie been holding up? Bartenders talk and we’re
concerned about her. I’ve heard she hasn’t spoken a word to anyone in public in
weeks. It’s like she’s lost her voice.”
“She’s quiet. We don’t really talk much. Unless she’s
working, she’s at the house,” Carter said.
“I saw her last week at the market, but when I called her
name she looked at me, turned and ran. She dropped her basket all over the
floor. It was a side of her I’ve never seen before.”
Rosie chose this moment to come out of the bedroom. She wasn’t
going to pretend like she hadn’t just been eavesdropping. They had been talking
about her, after all.
“I didn’t go to the market last week.”
“Oh Rosie, I didn’t think you could hear that,” Irene said,
sounding startled. “I guess my idea of whispering is conversationally loud.”
“And what did you say about sunflowers? This is the second
time tonight someone has mentioned them; those flowers and me being somewhere
that I wasn’t.”
She recounted the events at the store where the cashier
recalled her buying hair dye and sunflowers hours earlier. Carter shared the
photographs of sunflowers at the break-in, the phone booth and his truck. The
trio went down to the station.
“We found a tracking device near the tail pipe,” Officer
Garcia said. “We think it’s been there for a while because it showed signs of
weathering. The suspect might have used it to locate your vehicle at the
hardware store to place the sunflower and at your home address to find your
phone number.”
“The cashier said a woman had bought sunflowers a few hours
ago, did you talk to her?” Rosie said.
“We did. And surveillance videos from the hardware store
show a female placing the sunflower on your truck,” Officer Brown said to
Carter. “The store clerk said he did see someone outside, but thought it was
most likely the owner of the vehicle. He also said he recognized the woman.”
“So we know who it is, then,” Carter said. “We know who’s
after Rosie.”
“We’re close, but I don’t think we’re there just yet, Mr.
Jenkins,” Brown said. “The cashier’s and the clerk’s description of the female
suspect seem to draw up the same person, which could be a good thing. But the
clerk said he recognized the woman as a bartender from the boulevard. He said
the woman was Rosie.”
The rumor mill started spinning.
