Shelley was about to butt in, but thought better of it. Jane was doing fine by herself. She picked up the flower arrangement and handed it to Mel.

He was trying to figure out how to apologize without actually saying the word "sorry" and feeling very stupid holding a vast arrangement of flowers at the crime scene. In a more pleasant voice, he said, "I see."

“They're probably evidence," Jane said, turning on her heel dramatically to get back into the car. She tripped over the curb and came down hard on her right foot, and her shoe turned sideways with a sickening popping noise that made her yelp involuntarily.

Mel set down the flowers, and he and Shelley rushed to scoop her up.

“Are you okay?" Mel asked.

“Aside from ruining my exit, I think so," Jane said, grimacing with pain. "I'm feeling a tad faint.”

Mel opened the car door, shoved her into the passenger seat, and made her take off her shoe and felt her foot. "No obvious break. Can you move your ankle?”

Jane felt like crying, not only because her foot was hurting horribly, but because she'd made a bit of a fool of herself by flouncing off like that. She wiggled it around and said, "My ankle's fine. Just leave me alone.”

To her dismay, Mel and Shelley took her at her word. Jane put her shoe back on, muttering to herself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Mel looked at the flower arrangement sitting unevenly on the grass. "Who are the flowers from?”

Shelley shrugged. "We don't know. The envelope is sealed.”

He pulled out the little clear plastic stake and glanced at the card. "Why's it scorched?"

“How would I know?" Shelley said airily.

Mel held the envelope by one corner, slit it open with a penknife, pulled out the card with a pair of tweezers, and glanced at it. "Hmm.”

Shelley craned her neck to see what the card said. There was no signature.