An Act of Deceit: Book 2 of the Sarah Woods Mysteries by Jennifer L. Jennings Page B

bitch?”
         Arms crossed over my chest, I just stood there as he stormed down the hall and slammed the bedroom door. Had I gone too far? Daniel wasn’t used to me speaking my mind, and apparently had no idea what was really bothering me.
         I suppose I was partly to blame. I was the one keeping secrets. But Daniel was no dummy; it wouldn’t be long before he figured out what I was doing with Carter. What he’d do about it was entirely another matter.
     
    * * *
        
         Several hours after my little blow-out with Daniel, I met Carter at the Main Street Diner and recounted my conversation with Armand. Carter sat back in the booth and stared at his coffee mug, apparently processing the new information. The waitress came and went, leaving a couple plates of fettuccini Alfredo in front of us. Carter reached inside his pocket and produced a cream-colored, silk ribbon with lettering that read ‘Ambrosia Florists.’ “I went through Tiffany’s apartment last night and found this in her trash can.”
         “Looks like a ribbon used in floral arrangements. And Armand did mention that Stephanie received flowers from her stalker.”
         “I checked Harding’s bank transactions. If he had called in an order, there would likely be a credit card transaction for the purchase. But there’s nothing listed for Ambrosia Florists. If it was him, he must have gone in and paid cash.”
         “Maybe someone who works there would recognize him by the photo we’ve got.”
         Carter nodded. “Let’s go over after we eat. We might get lucky.”
         I twirled the thick pasta around my fork, took a bite, and looked up at Carter. Something was different; I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at first. Then it came to me. “Nice haircut,” I offered. “Did the barber have anything interesting to say about Marty?”
         Carter ran his hand through his hair. “Thanks, but it was a total bust. The guy had me in and out of his chair in less than five minutes. His scissors were flying so fast, I barely got one question out and he was done. There were a line of guys waiting. Not that it would’ve mattered. The guy didn’t speak much English. He didn’t seem to understand a thing I said. I told him I wanted my hair cut to look like George Clooney’s, but I left looking more like Andy Rooney.”
          I burst out laughing. Carter’s tormented expression was priceless.
         “Glad you’re able to have a good laugh at my expense,” he said, reaching into his back pocket. He tossed an envelope on the table in front of me. “Good job getting the information from Armand.”
         I slipped the envelope into my purse without looking inside. “Thanks,” I said. “I feel like I’m getting the hang of this business. I know I still have a lot to learn, but I’ve got a damn good teacher.”
         Carter smiled and looked down. He was either uncomfortable with compliments or had something else on his mind. In that moment, it occurred to me that I really didn’t know Carter very well at all. I wanted to ask about his life; about how he came to be a private eye, what his family was like, and if he’d ever been married? We had been so wrapped up in the Marty Quinn investigation, there was little time left over to talk about our personal situations. Maybe that’s how Carter liked it. But my curiosity wouldn’t rest.
         “Something seems to be bothering you, Carter.”
         He looked up from his plate. “Nah, I’m fine.”
         “Don’t worry. I know that behind the façade of sensitivity you’re a tough guy.” I waited for a smile, and didn’t get one. “Okay, I’m asking as a friend.”
         I immediately regretted taking that liberty. I had no idea if Carter ever thought of me in that light.
         “I appreciate your concern, Sarah, but it’s complicated. Besides, you have your own life to deal with.”
         “My life