SHAY PICKED UP A BOUQUET of tulips on her way to Olivia’s place. Whether or not Olivia had gone to Mr. Davies’s funeral, it was bound to be a rough evening. Olivia could keep the flowers if she wanted them, or, alternately, Shay was prepared to drive her to the cemetery. That way she could lay them on his grave without prying eyes watching.
When she got off the elevator, something smelled funny. Burning, but not food. It only got stronger as she approached Olivia’s door.
The second she set foot inside, she knew there was something in the oven that shouldn’t be. She took a hard left. Tossing the tulips on the counter, she opened Olivia’s oven.
“What were you thinking?” Shay called out, turning the dial to OFF. “Are these clothes in here? They’re burnt to a crisp!”
Olivia didn’
