Ghost Wanted by Carolyn Hart Read Free Book Online Page B

his office at eight and found several librarians near his desk. “They wanted to know if Thea—that’s my wife—had sent me an early Valentine. I checked with Thea and she didn’t know anything about the rose. She said”—Vickers said wryly—“if anybody was sending me a single red rose, she wanted to know the details, pronto. After roses were found all over the library, I called her back to reassure her that I didn’t have a secret admirer. My guess is that it’s a dare of some sort.”
    (In the interest of full disclosure, a red rose was found this morning on the editor’s desk at the
Bugle
.)
    Goddard Public Information Director Edward Morgan said apparently only the library and
Bugle
editor’s office reported roses. Morgan declined to speculate on the agency behind their distribution or the motivation for the apparent prank. “Roses cause no harm, but Campus Security is concerned that someone apparently gained entry to the library after hours. Anyone with information about the roses is asked to contact the Campus Security office.”
    Security Officer Ben Douglas insisted every entrance to the library was locked when he made his rounds at eleven p.m. Monday. “Nothing was open and there was no break-in. Staff entrances are opened by electronic keypads. Some of the service entrances require a key. Whoever got in either had a key or knew the code for keypad entrances.”
    The
Bugle
asked the office of Library Director Kathleen Garza if any staff members used keypad locks to enter the library after hours this week. As of press time, the director’s office had not responded.
    A telephone survey of local florists revealed no promotional efforts. Jane Nottingham of Roses Are Red Florists said, “Our going rate for a dozen premium red roses is $87.95. I understand they found about two dozen roses, so someone must have a big crush on library staff.”
    A more ethereal explanation was offered by Security Officer Douglas. Douglas pointed to a portrait of Lorraine Marlow that hangs on the landing of the main staircase at Goddard Library. “Mrs. Marlow was the wife of a wealthy Adelaide banker, Charles Marlow. Her rose garden was famous, and she loved to share her flowers. Their estate included a greenhouse, and roses were available year round, which was very unusual in the 1930s and ’40s. In the early days of World War II, she was a volunteer at the Adelaide USO, which welcomed soldiers stationed at a nearby Army post. She soon became known to soldiers as the Rose Lady, and she encouraged young men to send pressed petals to a girl back home. Although she and Mr. Marlow had no children, Mrs. Marlow loved young people and, as a regent of Goddard College, every year hosted a Valentine dance for Goddard students at their home. During the war years, she often shared single roses with young men at the college, urging them to look in their hearts and leave a rose where the girl of their dreams would find it.”
    Douglas said Mrs. Marlow died a few years after the war in a car accident. According to Douglas, single long-stem roses began to appear on campus not long after her death, often leading to unexpected romances.
    When asked how a rose without a salutation or message could connect a couple, Douglas said, “Sometimes the appearance of a rose led a man—or young woman—to seek out someone they’d noticed but felt shy about approaching. Often both a young man and woman received a rose. Mrs. Marlow’s been gone more than a half century, but roses still find their way at Goddard.”
    Morgan smiled pleasantly when asked about the legend of the Rose Lady. “It’s a pretty tale and well-known to all of our students. Enterprising young men don’t hesitate to take advantage of a romantic illusion. I feel quite sure we have no supernatural visitors at Goddard.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” I might have to make Director