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to her?
    Then I saw the lime green Ford Fiesta parked downthe street in front of the Raven Creek Park. Josie’s car. She’d driven here. In the middle of the night? This morning? Why? Poppyville rolled up its sidewalks early. The Roux Grill and Sapphire Supper Club kept the latest hours, and both closed at midnight on weeknights.
    Flashing lights colored the other end of Corona Street, moving toward me with a roar of engines but no sirens. I hurried closer to where I’d found the body.
    A police cruiser pulled into the disabled parking spot in front of the shop, and a uniformed woman I vaguely recognized emerged. “Did you report an emergency?”
    “I did. She’s over there.” I waved toward the gate.
    In seconds there seemed to be people everywhere; police and firemen and medical personnel and others whose roles I couldn’t begin to guess. Two men immediately ran to Josie, and one reached for her neck, just as I had. He looked at his partner and shook his head.
    Then I saw a few drops of blood on the ground beneath her.
    “Excuse me,” a man in a jumpsuit said as he brushed by me and went into the back garden.
    “Come on, Dash.”
    We went back through the shop to the garden in order to stay out of everyone’s way—and to keep an eye on things. I moved to the north fence and fingered the silky petal of a Don Juan rose that twined up the cedar post. The warming sun teased out its deep floral tone, yet I felt cold to the bone.
    The back door of Scents & Nonsense opened, and Astrid stood on the threshold with a plate of oatmeal cookies in her hand. “Ellie?” Her hand flew to her chestin relief. “I saw all the police and thought something terrible had happened to you.”
    “I’m fine,” I said.
    But she was still talking. “They have a big tarp up, and the door was open, so I just came inside.” Her words tumbled over one another.
    She stepped down to the patio as I moved away from the fence. “Are you . . .
Oh, my God!
” Mouth agape, she stared through the open gate at Josie, who was now being photographed from different angles behind a makeshift tarp curtain.
    “Ma’am! I’m sorry—who are you? I’m going to need you to move.” A young officer gripped her elbow to hustle her back inside.
    She tried to pull away. “Ellie, what happened? Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine,” I said again. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
    Within moments, others had invaded Scents & Nonsense. It felt like a violation, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Astrid was shown out to the boardwalk in front of the store and waved good-bye, mouthing “talk to you later.” I watched it all through the back window, unwilling to leave the garden.
    Or Josie.
    My cell buzzed in my hand. The display said
Thea Nelson
.
    “Are you the one who found her?” a woman asked.
    I thumbed IGNORE on the phone and turned to look at her. Unlike most of the people working around me, the newcomer was a stranger to me. She was petite, not much taller than I was, and slender. Shiny black hair brushedthe shoulders of the navy blazer she wore over a crisp white blouse. Her dark eyes drank in the scene and me with it. Observing. Concluding.
    Judging.
    Heart hammering, I said, “Um, yes. Is Josie, um, I mean . . . ?” I felt tears threaten and swallowed, hard.
    Her eyes softened. “I’m afraid she is, indeed, deceased.”
    “Was she . . . ? I mean, did someone . . . ?” Apparently, I had lost the capacity to form full sentences.
    “She has at least two stab wounds,” the woman confirmed. “I take it you knew her?”
    Josie had been
stabbed
? How could I not have seen that? The idea that she was dead—actually gone, and at the hand of another person—seemed unreal. I took a deep breath and tried to marshal my thoughts. “Yes. Her name is Josie Overland. She worked for me. Sometimes, I mean. She worked for my ex-husband, too.”
    Her eyes flashed at that. “You’re Elliana Allbright. Someone told me