Page 8 of The Twins

What the hell was I thinking? What the hell had I just done…here in Oxford Crown Court? Seriously. And, and I’d agreed to meeting his brother? As if I could handle that multiplied by two.Himmultiplied by two.

I hurried down the corridor, my robe swishing behind me. I checked my periwig, and yep, it was at an angle. And my cheeks were hot, likely pink, too, and my lipstick would be…fucked.

I dived into a restroom, relieved when it was empty, and plonked down my notes. Hurriedly, I swiped away my smudged red lipstick, and then beneath my eyes, neatening my eyeliner.

My eyes were glistening, the result of an orgasm, unexpected it was true, but still it had been swift and satisfying. The man was good with his hands.

“Hey, Rebecca, how is your day going?”

I spun around.

Melanie, one of the court secretaries, stood there.

“I…er good thanks. You?” I straightened my robe.

“Same old. I heard your closing went well.”

“Fingers crossed.” I tapped my periwig then licked my lips. Finn’s taste lingered there. I closed my eyes, and my heart gave a silly extra beat.

“You okay?” Melanie asked and narrowed her eyes.

“Yes, of course. Fine…just anxious, I guess. Prison will destroy her just as much as her husband did.”

“He was a nasty bit of work by the sound of it.” She shuddered then stepped into a cubicle.

Hastily, I grabbed my notes and headed out again.

Soon I was walking into the communal office. There was a hum of conversation, and the kettle was boiling. I waved hello to a few colleagues then went to the desk I’d claimed earlier in the day.

“What the…?” I stopped in my tracks.

A huge bunch of blood-red roses clouded with white baby’s breath stood on my desk wrapped in great folds of cellophane dotted with tiny scarlet hearts and cupid arrows.

“Came for you,” Joseph said. “A while ago. Secret admirer, huh?”

“Not that I know of.” I frowned. Finn? Really? I didn’t know him well, but this didn’t seem like his style. Being where he bloody well shouldn’t be, taking crazy risks, that was his MO.

I plucked the printed notecard positioned between two stems and tore it open.

You’ve been on my mind every minute, every hour, and every day for the last four years, and now it’s time.

“What the hell?” A cold chill shuddered through me. At Christmas I’d received a card with an angel on saying the same thing, only that one had said three years and six months. The flowers were from the same anonymous person, and the only people I knew who measured every minute, hour, and day were inmates. I had a bad feeling about this and felt the color drain from my previously flushed cheeks. Now it’s time,what the fuck did that mean?

“You okay?” Joseph asked, leaning back in his chair and tapping his pen on his chin.

“Who delivered these?” I snapped.

“I don’t know. They were here when I came back from closing. But I expect security brought them up. Why?”

“Yes, of course, security.” I gabbed the phone and called downstairs. “Hey, Fred, its Rebecca Saunders, did you see who brought these flowers?”

“The red roses, sure, it was the woman who owns Bees Knees, the florist down the road. Brought them herself, she did.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

“Problem? We scanned them.”

“No, it’s fine.” I put the phone down and keyed in the number of Bees Knees that was written on the back of the card. It was answered on the fourth ring by a female. “Hello, I’ve just had a bunch of roses delivered to me at the courthouse, can you tell me who ordered them, please?”