Richard had left her flowers again. She walked out of the garage, and as she pulled her cell phone out of her purse, grabbed them off the front porch. “Worcester County Sheriff’s Office. How may I direct your call?” Alexis took a deep breath and tried not to scream at the woman on the other end of the line. “I need to file a report.” “Is it an emergency?” Alexis looked at the flowers and sighed. “No.” “One moment please.” The Muzak clicked on. One moment my ass. She’d be lucky to talk to someone in the next twenty minutes. She read the card. “Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, /Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart.” This time it was Shakespeare doing the talking. Poor Caesar, Alexis thought sardonically, he never did anything wrong. Time to make some mulch. The second Alexis opened the door to the house, she knew something was wrong. The lights were too dim, and it smelt strange—a sickly combination of heavy musk and sweat. She set the flowers down on a coffee table.
