Blue Dahlia

along with Logan.
    She heard the singing, quiet and sad, as she started down the hall. Her heart began to trip, and china rattled on the tray as she picked up her pace. She was all but running by the time she got to the door of her sons’ room.
    There was no one there, just that same little chill to the air. Even when she set her tea down, searched the closet, under the bed, she found nothing.
    She sat on the floor between the beds, waiting for her pulse to level. The dog stirred, then climbed up in her lap to lick her hand.
    Stroking him, she stayed there, sitting between her boys while they slept.
     
    ON SUNDAY, SHE WENT TO HER FATHER’S FOR brunch. She was more than happy to be handed a mimosa and ordered out of the kitchen by Jolene.
    It was her first full day off since she’d started at In the Garden, and she was scheduled to relax.
    With the boys running around the little backyard with Parker, she was free to sit down with her father.
    “Tell me everything,” he ordered.
    “Everything will go straight through brunch, into dinner, and right into breakfast tomorrow.”
    “Give me the highlights. How do you like Rosalind?”
    “I like her a lot. She manages to be straightforward and slippery. I’m never quite sure where I stand with her, but I do like her.”
    “She’s lucky to have you. And being a smart woman, she knows it.”
    “You might be just a tiny bit biased.”
    “Just a bit.”
    He’d always loved her, Stella knew. Even when there had been months between visits. There’d always been phone calls or notes, or surprise presents in the mail.
    He’d aged comfortably, she thought now. Whereas her mother waged a bitter and protracted war with the years, Will Dooley had made his truce with them. His red hair was overpowered by the gray now, and his bony frame carried a soft pouch in the middle. There were laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, glasses perched on his nose.
    His face was ruddy from the sun. The man loved his gardening and his golf.
    “The boys seem happy,” he commented.
    “They love it there. I can’t believe how much I worried about it, then they just slide in like they’ve lived there all their lives.”
    “Sweetheart, if you weren’t worrying about some such thing, you wouldn’t be breathing.”
    “I hate that you’re right about that. Anyway, there are still a few bumps regarding school. It’s so hard being the new kids, but they like the house, and all that room. And they’re crazy about David. You know David Wentworth?”
    “Yeah. You could say he’s been part of Roz’s household since he was a kid, and now he runs it.”
    “He’s great with the kids. It’s a weight off knowing they’re with someone they like after school. And I like Harper, though I don’t see much of him.”
    “Boy’s always been a loner. Happier with his plants. Good looking,” he added.
    “He is, Dad, but we’ll just stick with discussing leaf-bud cuttings and cleft grafting, okay?”
    “Can’t blame a father for wanting to see his daughter settled.”
    “I am settled, for the moment.” More, she realized, than she would have believed possible. “At some point, though, I’m going to want my own place. I’m not ready to look yet—too much to do, and I don’t want to rock the boat with Roz. But it’s on my list. Something in the same school district when the time comes. I don’t want the boys to have to change again.”
    “You’ll find what you’re after. You always do.”
    “No point in finding what you’re not after. But I’ve got time. Right now I’m up to my ears in reorganizing. That’s probably an exaggeration. I’m up to my ears in organizing. Stock, paperwork, display areas.”
    “And having the time of your life.”
    She laughed, stretched out her arms and legs. “I really am. Oh, Dad, it’s a terrific place, and there’s so much untapped potential yet. I’d like to find somebody who has a real head for sales and customer relations, put him or her in charge of that area while I concentrate on rotating stock, keep ahead of the paperwork, and juggle in some of my ideas. I haven’t even touched on the landscape area. Except for a head butt with the guy who runs that.”
    “Kitridge?” Will smiled. “Met him once or twice, I think. Hear he’s a prickly sort.”
    “I’ll say.”
    “Does good work. Roz wouldn’t tolerate less, I can promise you. He did a property for a friend of mine about two years ago. Bought this old house, wanted to