Shoots to Kill Read Online Free PDF Page B

college.
    “Bloomers is amazing,” Libby told me, gazing around in delight as Grace brought over two cups of coffee. “How I adore these high tin ceilings and the creaky wood floors, and I love what you’ve done with the brick walls. Look at these darling ice-cream tables. And of course there are no words for your gorgeous flower arrangements. Honestly, Abby, walking into Bloomers is like stepping into a fantasy world.” She sighed dreamily.
    “Your cream is on the table, dear,” Grace said to Libby as she brought over two cups.
    Libby reached for the little pitcher and doused her java with a generous helping. I refrained just out of spite, then could hardly drink my coffee.
    “I have something for you,” Libby told me. She pulled a large albumlike book out of her bag, set it aside, then reached in for a small silver box tied with a gold ribbon. “It’s a welcome-home gift.”
    A welcome-home gift? But I wasn’t the one who’d come home. I glanced at Grace to see if she caught it, but she was already bustling off toward the shop. Libby thrust the box at me, then watched eagerly as I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a sterling-silver “Best Friends Forever” locket—a jagged half of a heart on a silver chain.
    “You shouldn’t have,” I said, trying to hide my dismay.
    “Look, I’m wearing the matching half.” She tugged on a chain hidden inside her shirt and out came the other half.
    I thanked her and started to put the locket back in the box, but Libby snatched it out of my hands. “Here, let me fasten it around your neck.”
    Moments later, wearing my new BFF locket, I put the cup of coffee to my lips to hide my annoyance. This was going to be a long five minutes.
    “Now,” Libby said, scooting her chair close to mine, “I have to show you the scrapbook I made.” She flipped to the first page of the album, onto which she had pasted a newspaper article about Bloomers’ grand reopening. From the New Chapel News , the headline read: NEW FLOWER-SHOP OWNER BLOSSOMS ON SQUARE. Beneath it was a grainy black-and-white photo of me in front of Bloomers, with a pot of mums in my arms. I noticed that Libby had hand-painted a trellis around the photo and decorated it with tiny roses.
    Libby smoothed out a wrinkle in the photo, gazing at my flower shop as if it were her own. “Such a pretty building, isn’t it?”
    “I’ve always thought so,” I said, glancing at her askance.
    Glowing with pride, she continued through the album, showing me pages filled with every article in which I’d ever been mentioned, even those about my involvement in helping to solve local murders. Each clipping had been meticulously decorated with a border of leaves, vines, or various types of flowers. Clearly, she’d spent a lot of time on the scrapbook. When she’d finally exhausted her supply of articles, she closed the book and sat back with a sigh of satisfaction. “So?”
    “I’m blown away, Libby. I can’t believe you went to all this effort for me. Thanks!”
    “Oh,” she said in surprise, gathering the album to her chest. “It’s not for you. It’s my keepsake. To be honest, I came to ask if I could work for you.”

CHAPTER TWO
    It took me a few seconds to absorb her request, and even then I didn’t believe it. Libby turned to gaze around her. “I just have to be a part of this. You understand that feeling, don’t you?”
    Maybe I was wrong to let the past influence me, but there was no way I wanted Libby near me every day. Luckily, I had the perfect excuse. “The thing is, Libby, I’m not in a financial position to hire any more help.”
    “Oh, that.” She waved away my concern. “You don’t have to pay me. I’ll be your intern.”
    My hand shook, rattling the cup as I set it on the saucer. My intern ?
    “Just imagine me at your side, soaking up everything there is to know about flowers. Plus, I can take orders, clean up the workroom at the end of the day, pick up sandwiches for