Chapter Four

After leaving the bonds office staff, I headed off to the Rangeman facility. I parked in the underground, went to my desk on the fifth floor, took out my gun and holster, and dropped my purse in a drawer. I put my gun on and, now dressed for the day, went to get a coffee and a snack. Eating salad for lunch sure makes a girl hungry.

I came back to my desk with a ham and Swiss on a Kaiser in one hand and my hot coffee in the other. I put the food down, turned on the computer, and despite the late hour in the afternoon, I started work for the day. I had a multi-step research project for a client in Operations to do, and five research requests for Sales. I inputted the information for the Operations client and drank my coffee and ate my sandwich while I waited for the computer to spit out its information. Once my sandwich was finished, I took my phone out and cued up my Songza app, the application which streams music into my phone. I selected upbeat workout music and hit play. I find the music necessary to ensuring the boredom of the job doesn't put me to sleep.

I drank the rest of my coffee and took the first report off the printer. I started to read it, highlighting various concerns that stuck out for me.

Midway through reading the final pages of the report, a person I had never met came down to my office and put three new files on my desk. He was exceedingly tall, well built, blond and blue-eyed. He was good looking in a Ken-doll sort of way, and you could tell he knew of the impact of his looks. "Hello, my name is Stephanie", I said.

"You are the research guru! It is nice to meet you. I am Adam. Thank you for doing the research on all my files. Your assistance has landed us several important new clients."

"That's good. I am glad to finally meet you as well. I was going to come and introduce myself, but I have been working odd hours lately and they are not the same hours the Sales department keeps."

"I can tell you have been working odd hours lately. Every time I send you a file as I am leaving at the end of the day, you have it completed before I get in the next morning. All of us in Sales were beginning to think a group of little research fairies were coming in during the night to get all the work done."

"Nope. Just me. I work two jobs and, since Ranger gives me flex hours, I work this job around my other one."

"What is your other job?"

"I am a bounty hunter."

"That is so cool! I bet you have some fascinating stories. I would love to hear them over dinner some time."

"Thank you for the offer. I hate to burst your bubble, but the stories are not fascinating and, perhaps more importantly, I am not interested in having dinner. Thank you anyway."

"Are you seeing someone, then?"

"Yes, I am sort of seeing someone."

"Then forget I mentioned it. But if you ever sort of break up with the guy, let me know and the offer of dinner still stands."

"Thanks. I will keep that in mind."

"Okay, then. I had to try."

"I love your confidence. I have to get back to work."

"I'll see you around. I will personally bring down all the Sales files from now on and hope I catch you at your desk."

I wished him a good evening and finished the research for Operations. I pushed the files aside to put under Tank's door before I left, then worked on the files for Sales. By the time I was finished it was well into the nighttime hours and I was ready to go home to bed.

I hauled myself out of bed the next morning and stood stupefied under the spray of the shower, weighing the appeal of going back to bed versus getting paid. By the time the hot water had run out, I determined getting paid was the better option to take. I had that outstanding bodywork bill to pay off and my rent was due. As I drank my coffee, I looked over the remaining outstanding skips.

There was Gavin Pilkin still outstanding. I determined that Lula and I would try to capture the unfortunate blow job boy first, before he had the chance to leave his house for the day.

One of the other outstanding files was a charge for impersonating a police officer. This was not Tony Testler's first time getting caught dressing up as a cop and pulling cars over for speeding. He had a good deal going on. He offered to let the speeders pay the ticket on the spot for a lesser fee or he gave them the option of paying the fee directly to the police department in which case they would have to pay a greater fee. The only problem was that he pulled over an off-duty police officer. The off-duty officer arrested him on the spot and in doing so they found over two thousand dollars in the Testler's car.

Testler had been put on suspension at his job as a night security guard. I determined that we would go after Testler second. I had brought him in before for both this offense as well as previous offenses. He was an easy skip. He wasn't abusive at all and in the past was generally cooperative.

The last file was for Clare Harlon. She is a senior who was bored with life. Living in a retirement home, she repeatedly called in false fire reports. As she was a low bond, I wanted to leave her for last.

I finished my toast and rinsed the peanut butter off my dirty plate and knife. Then, leaving my dishes in the sink, I put some sunflower seeds in Rex's dish. I watched while he scurried with glee over to stuff his cheeks before heading back to his soup can hidey hole. I finished up in the bathroom and, grabbing my gun out of my cookie jar, and my phone and charged stun gun off my counter, I headed out of my apartment for the day.

I got to the office in record time and parked in the rear parking lot. Connie was the only one in the office. I headed inside to wait for Lula and poured myself a coffee.

"I received a call this morning from a guy asking for your cell number. Even though I know you have it on your business cards, I refused to give it to him until he gave me his name. I am glad that I didn't. It was Guido Berginni. He also asked me where you live, but that was a no brainer. I told him that information was not available to the public."

"Morelli spoke to Berginni and told him I have a boyfriend."

"Are you back together then?"

"No. Morelli made it up hoping that knowledge of a boyfriend would deter Berginni. It sounds like it didn't work."

Lula walked into the office only ten minutes late. That made her five minutes earlier than I expected her. She was carrying in an iced cappuccino drink with extra whipped topping. "It is starting to get hot out there! It is time to switch from coffees to icy drinks, don't you think?"

I thought it was a good idea, but coffees were free at both the bonds office as well as Rangeman whereas icy drinks cost a lot of money when you drink them with the frequency I drink coffee during the day.

"I was thinking we could go after Pilkin first and then we have a couple of new files to chase. One of them is Tony Testler", I said. "Are you interested in riding shotgun again?"

"Hell, yeah. The only thing to do in this office is filing. And that ain't no fun."

We got in my car and headed to the Burg to Pilkin's house. About halfway there I spotted a tail. "Hold on", I said. "We've got a tail and I have to get rid of him."

"Who do you think it is?" asked Lula. She held her drink steady as I raced through the twists and turns of the backstreets.

Having finally lost him, I said "I don't know. I guess it could be Berginni. He called the office this morning looking for my cell number. Connie refused to give it to him."

"I don't know how you attract all the weirdoes. I attract the nice Mr. Fishes, and you attract the stalkers and vandals." It's true. If it was Berginni, he wasn't the first skip who had targeted me. I think he would be the first skip who had done so out of infatuation rather than anger, however.

We arrived at Pilkin's house and rang the doorbell. His sister, Marie, answered the door.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't here right now. He went to 'work'. He said he has another job, a better job than he previously had. And he said he isn't coming in. I could not get him to call you. He said if I called you myself he would kick me out of the house and take over the whole house for himself. He can't do that, can he?"

"Didn't you say that the name on the deed was still your parents?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a will that says the house belongs to both of you?"

"Yes."

"I am not a lawyer, but it would make sense to me that the house is half owned by you and half owned by your brother. If that is the case, you are legally entitled to stay there. You can't throw him out and he can't throw you out. When do you expect him back?"

"I am not exactly sure. I would normally say after work to get dressed for the evening, but his hours have become erratic ever since he was arrested."

"Okay. Do you still have my card?" When she nodded her head yes, I said "please call when you see him. I would hate to see you kicked out of your house because your brother is being a jerk." Tears came to Marie's eyes, but I ignored them. It was imperative that she call me.

"Do you want to try your granny and mother to see if they know something about Pilkin?" I grew up in the Burg and learned at an early age that the Burg is a close-knit community. You could not sneeze without the neighbours knowing within seconds. Gossip travels faster than the speed of light and is considered a valid pastime. My mother and grandmother are dialled into the gossip mill. I have frequently found they know more about my skips than the skip's relatives know.

"I do want to see if they can tell us who some of his honeys are. But while we are here in the Burg, I want to pick up Testler first. I also have a few cheques to take into the bank. And then I'd like to go see my mom and grandmother." I drove the short distance over to Testler's house. I didn't bother parking down the street. Tony knew my car already.

Testler lived in a nine-story condominium building on the eighth floor. We liked that his apartment was so high up. It meant he could not skip out the back door when we weren't looking.

There was a security system on the door. I buzzed the landlord. He met us at the door, checking my Failure-to-Appear papers, my fake badge, and my business cards. Then, deciding we were legitimate, he let us in the building and accompanied us upstairs. Not my first choice. I don't like having an audience if I can help it.

Lula knocked and we listened to Testler shuffle to the door. He stopped as he looked through the peephole, we heard a muffled "shit!", then we heard silence.

"Tony, we know you are in there. I can hear you breathing. You missed your court date again, and I need to take you into the precinct to get rescheduled. You've done this before. You know the drill."

"I'm not dressed."

"Then get dressed. I'm giving you five minutes before I'm coming in." And that is a lie. I don't carry lock picking tools purposely because I have never figured out how to use them. I wouldn't let Lula try to shoot the lock open. The bond value isn't high enough for me to take my life in my hands that way. And with at least two security locks on the door and more likely three, it would be impossible for Lula and me to kick the door down – assuming that was a skill we even had. However, Testler didn't know all that. I heard the locks being opened.

"Come in and wait. I need a shower before I go in."

I was about to say that we didn't have time to wait when I got a good look at Tony. "You are orange. Why are you orange?" I asked.

"I was applying a home-based spray tan", he said. "I was just about to jump in the shower when you called. I hope that some of the orangeness washes off. It wasn't supposed to be this colour."

"We'll wait in the living room, but make it a fast shower." The living room looked onto the entry way. Testler would not be able to leave the apartment without us knowing.

Lula and I waited, quiet, listening to the sounds of the shower. There was a thump as he dropped the soap on his toe and the sounds of him swearing as he did so. Then, half an hour later he emerged with a slightly less orange colouring on his skin.

"I don't know what to do", cried Testler. "I can't get it off. I followed the instructions to the letter, but I am still orange."

"Did you try a loofah sponge?" asked Lula. "I never had to worry about this type of problem. I am naturally tanned. But maybe a loofah sponge would scrape off some of the orange."

"I am embarrassed to be going into the station", he said.

"I can't help you with going into the station. It is something we have to do now. I would wear long sleeves and pants today to cover up some of the orangeness. However, if you let me cuff and shackle you in the car, I will stop at the drug store and buy you a loofah sponge. This will help you ensure that you are not orange when you actually have to go to court."

When I got his agreement, I cuffed him and, locking his door on the way out of the apartment, I walked him down to the car. Once in the car, I shackled him and put his seatbelt on. Then Lula and I drove the car to the drugstore. Lula offered to go in for me. I gave her a twenty and prepared to wait.

Fifteen minutes later Lula emerged, looking pretty happy with herself. I put out my hand for the change, and Lula dropped twenty-three cents in it. "Twenty-three cents! What loofah sponge costs nineteen dollars and seventy-seven cents?"

"Here's the thing", she began as I settled down for a long story, glaring at her. "I bought a loofah, but then I saw they had apricot scrub for sale and I thought the exfoliant might be good. And then I saw body lotion, and I thought the body lotion might lift some of the tan as well. So I got that too. It was all on sale, and since I saved you four dollars by buying it all on sale, I bought myself and Connie each a chocolate bar. I knew you would not want one since you are trying to lose weight." She took the two chocolate bars out of the bag and put the bag on the backseat next to Tony.

"Thanks, Stephanie", said Tony. "You guys sure are nice. I will remember you when I become a police officer."

"Why do you keep impersonating a police officer, anyway, Tony?" I asked.

"I want to become a police officer, but the force keeps turning me down. I have tried five times and each time they have denied my application. So I decided that, if I acted like a police officer, they would have to see how good I would be at it."

"So what were you doing with the money you were collecting from people?"

"I was planning on donating it to the Police Association. Again, I thought it would get me noticed in a good way."

"Do you honestly think the force will hire someone who has a history of being arrested?"

"Yes. When they see how good a police officer I can be, they will be interested in hiring me."

"I don't think so, Tony. I think you should concentrate on being the best security guard you can be."

"That's easy for you to say. You are a bounty hunter. You are almost a police officer yourself. Maybe I should become a bounty hunter."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be. You get shot at, stabbed, and bruised, cars stolen or shot or exploded. You are self-employed and you don't get paid that much. You are much better being a security guard."

"But at least as a bounty hunter you get to shoot people."

"No, the police do not look favourably at anyone who shoots another person, even if the gunman is a bounty hunter." I arrived at the bonds office and dropped off Lula. "It is like being a police officer. Shooting people happens, but it is not preferable and is frowned upon, only accepted if there was no other option", I said.

"Bummer. Have you ever shot someone?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it?"

"No. They aren't times in my life that I like to relive." I arrived at the precinct and drove Tony up to the drop-off area. I took his shackles off and picking up his bag of supplies, I unbuckled his seatbelt and helped him out of the car. I walked him inside and cuffed him to the bench. I put his bag of supplies in his lap, said goodbye to him and grabbed my paperwork from the docket lieutenant. Then I drove back to the bonds office.

Two skips left to chase. Feeling pretty good about our success rate over the last few days, I gave my receipt to Connie. When she gave me a cheque I turned to Lula. "I am going to the bank to deposit the cheques, and then heading over to my parents to see if they know anything about Pilkin. Do you want to come?"

"Hell, yeah. I love your granny. Your mom is good, too, but I love your granny. She is my role model. I hope to be as hip when I get to her age as she is. Hell, I hope I am as hip at my age as she is at her age now."

My Grandma Mazur is seventy-something. She entered her second childhood late in life, and frequently acts more like a teenager than her senior years would suggest. She lives with my parents in a semi-satisfying relationship. On my parents' side, her constant shenanigans have given my mother more gray hairs than my sister and myself combined. My father copes with his mother-in-law by vacating the house for the majority of the day. However, my grandmother finds life with her daughter's family boring and staid. Personally, I find her outspokenness and joie de vivre refreshing. But then, I don't have to live with her.

My parents live in a butter yellow semi-detached house on a quiet street in the Burg. With a dark red front door, a small porch and red flowers planted in the front garden, it was home. For years it had been painted brown on the bottom and mustard yellow on the top. The change to butter yellow was a recent one and was one I was still getting used to.

The change in colour goes much better with the lime green neighbouring house. The paint colour next door was the unfortunate result of a foray into the discount paint section. Together the two houses were a colourful addition to the black and white sameness on the rest of the street.

My parents' house was laid out in a linear fashion. On the main floor, the living room, dining room and kitchen were linked together. Upstairs were three small bedrooms and a bathroom. I come from not a large home, but a loving home.

For what may be the first time ever, my grandmother was not standing at the door when we got to it. "Grandma's family sensing radar must be turned off", I said to Lula. I opened the door and heard yelling.

"For the love of God!" yelled my mother. "You are not getting a tattoo."

"Yes, I am", shouted my grandmother. "I have always wanted a tattoo and if I am getting one I had better do it soon, before I die."

"Yoo-hoo!" I said as I entered the kitchen. Lula followed me close behind, trying not to laugh.

"Steph, I am glad you are here. Tell your grandmother it is not a good idea to get a tattoo. I can't talk to her", said my mom, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Tell your mother I am old enough to make my own decisions. I can't talk to her", said my grandmother, throwing her hands up in the air in an exact mimicry of my mother.

"Let's all calm down. Grandma, what kind of tattoo do you think you would like?" I asked.

"I would like a few little butterflies tattooed across my lower back."

"You want a tramp stamp?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"A tramp stamp? Is that what they call them? I like the sound of that. I want it for all my honeys to see."

"What honeys?" shrieked my mother. "I don't see any honeys."

"Well, I don't have any honeys right this instant, but that doesn't mean I will never have a honey again. And if I did I would like to show him my tramp stamp."

My mother crossed herself.

"While I agree that you are old enough to make your own decisions, you do know that it hurts getting a tattoo, don't you, Grandma? That's why I never got one", I said.

"I got one", said Lula. "Right in the area that you are talking about. It was expected when you are a 'ho. Having said that, I wouldn't do it again. I would go for a henna tattoo. They don't hurt and if you don't like it they wear off in time."

"That is a good compromise. Mom, Grandma wouldn't be getting a permanent tattoo and Grandma, you still get your tattoo. Do you think you can compromise on that?" Since neither my mother nor my grandmother looked happy, I figured it was a good compromise. "Now perhaps this isn't a good time, but Lula and I were hungry and we thought we would stop in for lunch." And like magic, the argument was forgotten and my mother and grandmother sprang to attention to get lunch.

"We have some fresh ham, Swiss, provolone, salami and turkey from the deli, and loaf of bread from the bakery. We also have macaroni salad, potato salad and coleslaw." My mother started slicing tomatoes and washing lettuce while my grandmother got out the deli meats and cheeses, the bread and the breadboard, the salads and the mayonnaise and mustard. Five minutes later lunch had appeared on the table and everyone was ready to eat.

"Are you just in the neighbourhood, or are you here on business?" asked my grandmother. She is always disappointed when I say we were just in the neighbourhood, so I was happy to tell her we were there for business. My grandmother's eyes sparkled. "Who do you want the dirt on this time?" she asked.

"Don't help her. You are only encouraging her. She should quit her job and become a stay-at-home mother. Joseph would be willing to support her. Her job is too dangerous", said my mom to my grandmother.

"Mom, we have been over this before. Joe and I are no longer together. I don't want to become a mother at all, let alone a stay-at-home mother. And the longer the skips are out there uncaught, the more dangerous it is to me. If they know I am looking for them, and I don't catch them, that is when the real danger can occur." A month ago my life was in danger because of a skip and my mother has worried extensively about me ever since. Her solution has been for me to quit my job. I don't like that solution.

"I will help Stephanie", said my grandmother. "I don't want her to be in more danger than if we didn't help her." My grandmother turned to me and, when my mother wasn't looking, she winked. "So who do you want information on this time?"

I could hear Lula laughing quietly beside me as she whispered "see? Want to be like her when I grow up."

"There is a guy, mid-twenties, named Gavin Pilkin. He lives here in the Burg. He is supposed to be quite good looking and has many girlfriends."

"Really? I wonder if he takes them older. I'm a cougar, you know", my grandmother said as she growled and drew her fingers through the air like claws swiping at its prey. "I have to be a cougar", she said sadly. "Many of the men my age have already died. Or they can't get their thingy up any more. I'm a sex kitten. Who wants a guy with a floppy thingy?"

"Ma!" said my mother, crossing herself. "That is not appropriate conversation."

"What? We are just talking about sex. Do you think they would be able to get it up if they saw my tramp stamp?"

"Ma! You are not getting a tramp stamp!" said my mother.

Interrupting their approaching argument, I interjected "I don't know if Gavin Pilkin would be interested in an older woman because I have not found him yet. His sister thought he was going to work each day. However, his work laid him off two weeks ago. His sister said he comes home sometimes, but frequently just stays at one of his honeys. She hasn't seen him in a few days."

"What was he nailed for?" asked my grandmother, interest lighting her face.

"He made a mistake. One of his honeys was giving him a blow job while he was driving. He got excited and drove into an oncoming car. His girlfriend died when the airbag deployed on her head, snapping her neck. He has been charged with vehicular manslaughter. Do you know anything about him or even about any of his honeys?"

My mother must have decided that the case sounded somewhat benign. "I heard of the Pilkin family. Didn't the parents die a couple of years ago? I think the wife died of an allergic reaction to nuts and the husband died of a heart attack shortly afterwards."

"That sounds about right. The sister and Pilkin co-own the house. Pilkin put the house up for collateral on the bond and now the sister is in danger of losing the house if I can't find him."

"That's just terrible!" said my mother. "I'm not sure if I would know Gavin if I saw him, so I don't know how handsome he is. However, I have heard his name linked to Theresa Russo and Francesca Krempett and Annie Katts. He does have the reputation of getting around."

"Francesca's grandmother died last week and she is being laid out at Stiva's tonight. Do you want me to do some digging?" asked my grandmother excitedly.

"Thanks, but I think I might go with you to the viewing and see if I can spot Pilkin myself. What time would you like to be picked up?" I asked.

"Seven?" suggested Grandma. "That way not all the good seats are taken. I like to be able to see what is going on."

"If you take your grandmother to the funeral home, you are responsible for making sure she does not make a spectacle of herself", said my mother as she shook her finger at me. It was a tall order. My grandmother believed that, if she went to the work of getting dressed up and getting to the funeral home, she should be allowed to view the body. This is a problem when it is a closed casket. My grandmother has been known to pry the lid open so that she could see the deceased. "Do you want to come for dinner beforehand?" asked my mother.

I said yes and, having made arrangements, Lula and I left for the afternoon.

Deciding I was tired and did not feel like any further skip chasing, I deposited the cheques in the bank, took out Lula's ten percent of what I earned to give to her, and drove her back to the bonds office. Then I drove to Rangeman to work for the afternoon. On getting to the office I took out my phone, strapped on my gun, poured myself a coffee, and settled down to work.

As I turned on my computer and waited for it to boot up, I checked my phone messages. There was one from Connie. "I have another file for you. Come pick it up tomorrow?" I wrote back "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." I got another message from Vinnie. "What are you doing at Rangeman? You have outstanding skips. I need all the money I can get right now. Get out there and catch those fuckers." I debated about ignoring him, but finally decided it would be rude. So I wrote back "Am working this evening. Will pick up Lula to work again tomorrow. Don't worry. We'll find them. In the meantime be happy with the skips that we have caught over the last couple of days." I got an additional text from an unknown number. It said "We are meant to be together. Know that I love you." I sent back the text, "Who are you?"

There were no more Operations files but there were four new files from Sales. On the top file was a note "Sexy Stephanie. Thank you for your prompt attention to these files. Let me know when you are available for dinner." Maybe I was just being hyperaware because of the texts I was receiving, but a shiver ran down my spine anyway.

I researched each of the four files, writing my findings into a report on each potential client. Then I put them in their files and ran them down to the Sales offices. Entering their offices, I ran into Adam and handed him the files. "Here you go. All caught up again", I said.

"Spicy Stephanie! I love seeing you in your Rangeman uniform and you look so hot with your gun strapped on. But I would love to see you even more with your uniform on my bedroom floor."

"Eeww. Not going to happen, but thanks for the offer."

"Not my smoothest line?"

"No, definitely not. And I'm definitely not interested."

"Maybe we could meet for dinner and discuss whether we have any mutual interests some time? I can take you out of the office for dinner. You deserve a break. You work too hard."

"No, we are not going to have dinner together, although again, thank you for the offer. Enjoy your files", I said as I left his office.

I went back up to my desk and pulled a picture of Francesca Krempett. I printed it off for my files and tidied up. Then, breathing a deep sigh of resignation, I got a box of bullets from the storeroom and went down to the gun range to practice shooting.

After half an hour I was getting tired and my aim was becoming erratic. However, I was happy with my results from the beginning of the practice session. I went back upstairs, putting the remaining bullets back into the storeroom, and went down to my car to go home. Adam was leaning against my car hood.

"Stunning Stephanie! Fancy meeting you here!"

"Get off my car, Adam. I want to go home."

"You could go to my home with me. We could have dinner."

"Thank you, but I'm not interested. Even if I was, I would not be able to do so tonight as I am attending a funeral."

"I am sorry to hear that. Perhaps we can get together after the funeral and you can cry on my shoulder. I have good shoulders to cry on."

"I am sure you do, but I am still not interested. Now if you could get off my car, I would like to go home."

"A kiss first?" he said with a grin.

"A kick in the balls first?" I said, not grinning. He grimaced and moved off the car, holding my door open for me and shutting it softly after I got in. I was happy to see him in my rear-view mirror as I drove away.

I drove home and automatically looked upwards to my apartment. All my windows were in one piece and were shiny clean. There was no one on my fire escape. All good.

I entered the building. Mr. Wolenski was sitting on his walker in the lobby. "How was your day?" I asked him.

"It was a wonderful day", he replied.

"Has it been quiet around my apartment today?" I asked, my fingers crossed behind my back for luck.

"Yes, although I think you had a flower delivery."

"Did the delivery person leave again?" I asked.

"Yes, they dropped off the flowers and left."

"How long ago was that?"

"About half an hour ago. I came down here just after Days of Our Lives ended. I like to watch that show. You never know what is going to happen. It is almost as exciting as living in the same building as you, chicky!"

I thanked Mr. Wolenski for the information and went up to my apartment. Laying on the carpet outside the door was a single yellow rose and a note. I picked them up and went inside. I said hello to my attack hamster and put my gun away in the cookie jar. Preliminaries done, my curiosity could not stand it any longer. I opened the note. "I knew as soon as I saw you that you were the one for me. You can put me in cuffs any day."

Okay, so the flower definitely wasn't from Ranger. And it wasn't from Morelli. Could be Adam. And it could be Guido. Or it could be any number of skips that I had captured in the past. I put the flower in water and went to have a shower.

When I got out of the shower, I blasted my hair and applied a fresh layer of makeup. Foundation, bronzer, eyeliner, mascara. Two coats on the mascara. And raspberry lip gloss. I put on a pale blue stretchy t-shirt and my black funeral suit with a low pair of black pumps. Picking up my phone to put in my purse, I glanced down to see if I had missed any messages. I had a new text message. "Did you like my flower? I will send you a flower for every day you are away from me. Until we meet again." I sent a message back. "Who are you?" I then put my phone back in my bag and left the apartment for my parents' house for dinner.