Page 63 of Scored

“That’s the same one as the last bouquet,” Vee said. “They’re local.”

“Last time the Coopers played on Sunday, and the flowers were delivered the following Monday afternoon. I’ve wired flowers. There’s no way that someone wired these flowers on a Saturday night. Our game ended only a few hours ago.”

Vee pressed her lips together and shook her head. Blinking, she forced a smile. “Hey, let’s turn on the game, and then I’ll show you to your room. Actually, we walked past it.”

I lifted the vase. “I’ll be right back.”

The guest room was toward the door across the hallway from Vee’s office. I heard the locking mechanism in the door engage as I entered the main hallway.

After exiting the elevator on the first floor, I made my way to the concierge desk. The restaurant and bar were hopping. From the archway, I saw Coopers jerseys, shirts, and sweatshirts. As I approached the concierge desk, Jacob came into view. I recalled the times he came to escort Vee down to her car following Reid’s accident and the swarm of reporters. Both he and Ethan were incredibly helpful.

Jacob looked up from whatever he was doing. “Mr. Graham.” He looked at the flowers and then back to me. “May I help you with something?”

“Did you take my parents’ luggage up to 706?”

“No, sir. Ethan worked until I came on at six. He must have taken it up there.”

I extended my hands with the vase. “What about these?”

Jacob’s smile grew. “Yes, I took those upstairs. I didn’t want anything to happen to them before Ms. Hubbard saw them.”

Setting the vase on the counter, I asked, “Who brought them here?”

Small lines appeared between his eyebrows. “A delivery person. Is there a problem?”

“When did they arrive?”

He pressed his lips together. “It was after the Coopers won. I don’t recall the exact time.”

“Did you recognize the person or company?”

“No.” He pursed his lips. “I’m sorry. Wasn’t there the name of a florist on the card?”

“Mishler Florist.”

Jacob’s grin was back. “I know that place. It’s near the campus. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. I will call the florist on Monday if you’d like?”

“I’ll take care of it.” I jutted my chin toward the bouquet. “Decorate the lobby with those, take them home to your wife or mother. Ms. Hubbard doesn’t want them.”

“I’d love to take them home to my mom, but it could get me fired.”

Reaching in my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet. The only bill I had was a fifty. That was the problem with not using cash. I laid the bill on the counter. “For your mom. Thanks for all your help.”

“Aw, Mr. Graham, thank you.”

“Let others enjoy the flowers.”

“I will.”

As the elevator reached the seventh floor, I was ready to call the police. This was the second bouquet and the second threatening card. Whoever was fucking with Vee was fucking with the wrong woman.

Unlocking the door to the condo, I stepped in, locked the door, and turned on the security system. It was unusual to see the light coming from beneath the guest-room door. Down the hallway, the flicker of flames reflecting in the windows let me know Vee had turned on the fireplace.

“What’s the score?” I asked Dad when I stepped into the living area.

“Still tied. Both defenses have tightened up for the second half. This is the Seahawks’ third down. Third and three,” he clarified.

“Do you want a beer?”