"Aidan's hands itched to strangle the woman. He had known Marie from the moment of her birth--sixty two years ago--and they had never exchanged a cross word. And he suddenly wanted to strangle her. He should have ripped Ivan's throat out. Flowers. Why hadn't he thought of flowers? Why hadn't Marie mentioned it to him first? Why had she accepted them? Whose side was she on, anyway? Flowers! He had the urge to rip those petals off one by one. "Look," Marie cooed, "he even had the thorns removed so you wouldn't hurt yourself. What a thoughtful man." "What time did you tell the police we would see them?" Aidan interrupted, afraid that if he didn't he would erupt into violence. He detested the way Alexandria kept caressing the petals of one of the white roses."