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quiet. “Karma,” she finally said, playing with my spider ring. “Maybe you can.”
    â€œCan what?”
    â€œHave another chance.” She shook the ring for emphasis.
    â€œAs a spider?” I yelped.
    Meg’s mouth gaped in horror. “I didn’t mean that.” She dropped the ring. “I meant reincarnation. To tell her what you wish you could.”
    â€œHa.” I shook my head. “I heard enough about reincarnation from Mom’s slew of gurus. And I believe a little differently now.” I glanced up at the Bible verse I’d pegged on my cubicle wall, adorned with a simple cross. “No, a
lot
differently.”
    â€œBible-thumper.” Meg smirked and poked me in the shoulder blades, and it tickled. I laughed.
    â€œHippie.” I tried to poke her back with my pen, but she moved faster. “And don’t you dare spill any more of that stuff in your mug. My carpet will reek for months.”
    â€œI don’t know why I put up with you, Jacobs.” Meg sighed, making a pained face and gazing upward. “You’re all right though, I guess. So long as you don’t go offering me Gideon Bibles.”
    Pretty funny coming from Meg, née Mary Margaret—whose staunch Irish-Catholic parents intended her for the church.
    I pretended to think about her Gideon Bible comment, tapping my chin. “I think I’ve got an extra one in my car.”
    Meg ignored me. “Or those horrible Japanese snacks you stash in your drawer. Jellyfish or something?”
    â€œYou mean my dried squid?” I pulled my drawer open. “I love that stuff! Kyoko just sent me a fresh bag.”
    â€œKeep that up and I’ll take back all my compliments.”
    â€œOne bite and you’d recant your vegan ways.”
    Meg snorted into her mug. “I doubt it. Offer some to Chastity though.” I shuffled through my stack of press kits, chuckling. “I’d pay to see that.”
    â€œChastity.” I rolled my eyes. “That girl gets more flowers than the queen of the Rose Parade.”
    Meg dropped her voice to a smug whisper. “Too bad they’re not from Amanda’s killer. Then Chastity would be next.” She snickered into her hand.
    â€œMeg.” I smacked her arm. “I don’t like Chastity any more than you do, but I wouldn’t wish her dead. Come on.” I stacked my press kits up in a neat pile. “Or stalked either. Some crazy guy in New York stalked me for months when I was sixteen, convinced I was a Norse queen from his former life.”
    She studied me, sipping in silence. “You sure you’re not?”
    I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, Chastity’s got to be better than that hateful old receptionist. Good riddance.”
    â€œLee Ann?” Meg smiled. “Yep. She retired.” She leaned her head close to my ear. “If you ask me, she whacked off Amanda. The old bat. Rumor has it she’s hiding a boatload of secrets that most of us will probably never know.”
    â€œRight. She and Clarence Toyer, the mail guy,” I whispered, peeking over my shoulder. “They’d make a good couple, wouldn’t they?”
    Meg smirked. “Maybe you’re right, Jacobs.” She checked her watch and drained the rest of her tea. “Well, anyway, so long as you don’t start getting weird flowers and messages, or spray paint outside your house, I guess you’re safe.”

    I smelled something. Something sweet and inexplicably familiar. I turned around in my chair, trying to follow the scent. The floral fragrance wafted through the newsroom, over the sharp scent of toner from the copier, the faint whiff of coffee, and Clarence’s musty old cologne—so strong I turned my head in its direction.
    I’d just turned back to my keyboard when Chastity nearly bowled me over, whirling around the corner with her arms full of roses. “Shiloh! You got flowers for