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them for me?”
    Emma looked at the pot in Catherine’s hand. “I didn’t.”
    “There’s no card. Wonder who brought them.”
    Emma stepped outside on the porch. Her brows dipped. Her hand fluttered to her chest. “I should’ve noticed if someone was on the property. My George would’ve been plenty upset with me for talking to your friend, Mr. Bradley.”
    “Vince Bradley isn’t my friend. In fact, he scares me.”
    “Then I’ll find someone else to do the work.” Her tiny frame straightened.
    “Your husband would be proud of you. There’s one other person who might’ve dropped them off. He drove me home and to work when I had car trouble.”
    Emma beamed at Catherine. “A secret admirer.”
    “Could be.” She marveled at the flutter in her stomach. “I’m going in to town. Can I bring you anything?”
    “Nope, can’t think of a thing.”
    “Okay, I’m off to hunt for a day job.” She handed the plant to Emma. “Will you take care of my flowers? With my brown thumb, plants don’t survive long.”
    Catherine ran back to her car and waved as she pulled out of the driveway. She understood the loneliness Emma must feel, not having anyone to care for. Not having anyone who cared about her.
    ****
    Monday, July 31st, 12:30 p.m.
    Catherine had walked the square and checked with every shop owner or boutique clerk. Nobody needed help. She’d found a particularly beautiful green and yellow silk scarf she wanted to buy, but good sense prevailed, and she’d hung onto her money. Her brain was fried, and her feet were killing her by the time she got back to her car. She turned the air conditioner to high before driving away.
    The further she drove, the hotter the air coming from the vents on her dash became. Had she run over a black cat? Broken a mirror she didn’t remember? What had she done to bring about this run of bad luck? Could somebody please move this elephant sitting on her chest? A pity-party wouldn’t fix the air conditioner. She drove out to the Final Touch Funeral Home, killed the engine, and prepared to scratch a recently added item off her Never list...working around dead people.
    Stepping from the blistering heat outside to the ice cold air in the waiting room of the funeral home made her light headed. No, the abrupt change in temperature wasn’t it. She’d stopped breathing. In and out, she commanded her lungs. You can do this...in and out.
    A young girl sat behind the desk with a Teen magazine in front of her. “Can I be of service?”
    “I’d like to apply for the job if the position’s still open.” She’d passed the first hurdle and was stronger for it.
    “Great. Take a seat. I’ll see if Mom has time to talk.”
    The cut-off jeans and Dallas Cowboy jersey the girl wore made Catherine hope the owner might be desperate for a receptionist. The teenager strolled down the hall, opened a door, and yelled for her mother. Catherine listened to the slap-slap of rubber flip-flops as the girl returned.
    “I’d hire you myself if I could. School starts mid-August, and I’ve been stuck in here all summer.” She flipped her long blond hair over one shoulder before returning to her magazine,
    Catherine cleared her throat. “What happened to the previous employee?”
    The young girl looked up and pain radiated from her face. “This was Mom’s job. She’s helped in the back ever since Dad died.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss.” Catherine’s insides crunched.
    “Say it like that every time, and you’ll do fine.” An older version of the girl working the desk came toward Catherine. Her dark slacks and blouse took on the somber tone of the funeral home. “Susan King,” she said. “And I’m joking. I’d expect you to do more than that. Are you the woman the sheriff mentioned?”
    “Catherine McCoy.” She clasped the woman’s extended hand. “If he said nice things, I am.”
    “Come on back. Judy, take a message if anyone calls.”
    Catherine followed the woman down the