48
Caroline closed the door of her car and held her hand in the air. She needed to think and she didn’t want Dexter interrupting her train of thought unnecessarily. But it was the ringing of her phone that jolted her back to the here and now. She looked at the screen. It was Aidan.
‘Aidan. What is it?’ she said, immediately realising she’d perhaps sounded a little brusque.
‘We’ve had data back from one of the online nurseries we contacted about those roses, the Black Baccaras? There’s a small handful of people within a reasonable radius of Rutland, but only one who’s ordered repeatedly over the past few years, just before Valentine’s Day.’
‘Let me guess,’ Caroline said, rubbing her temples with her free hand. ‘Tom Mackintosh.’
‘Well, it says Thomas here, but yeah,’ Aidan replied, soun
