Page 11 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"Thank you," I said, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders at the mention of my grandfather. Mrs. Reynolds had known him well—she'd opened her bakery around the same time he'd started the flower shop.

She leaned in conspiratorially. "I saw that handsome detective leaving. Quite the commanding presence, isn't he?"

Jamie snorted, and I shot him a warning look.

"He was just here on police business," I said carefully.

Mrs. Reynolds raised an eyebrow. "Well, whatever the reason, he certainly seemed interested. Watched the shop for a good minute from across the street before he got in his car."

My head snapped up. "He what?"

"Oh yes," she said, apparently oblivious to my sudden tension. "Just standing there, looking thoughtful. That's how I knew he must be interested in more than just business." She winked at me. "Alphas like that don't waste time unless they see something worth pursuing."

I exchanged a glance with Jamie, whose eyes had widened slightly. "I'm sure he was just... thinking about his case," I said, forcing a light tone.

Mrs. Reynolds patted my hand. "If you say so, dear. Though in my experience, men don't look at case files the way he was looking at your shop." She picked up her empty basket. "Well, I should get back. The morning rush will be starting soon."

After she left, Jamie turned to me, his expression serious. "You think he was watching to see if you'd do something suspicious after he left?"

I moved to the window, scanning the street outside. No sign of the detective's car, but that didn't mean much. He could have moved it, could be watching from somewhere else.

"I don't know what he was doing," I said slowly, "but I don't like it."

"Maybe he's just doing his job," Jamie suggested, though he didn't sound convinced. "You know, being thorough."

"Maybe," I said quietly. "Or maybe he was hoping I'd lead him to Braden Jensen."

Jamie moved beside me, peering out the window. "What are you going to do?"

I turned away from the window, my mind racing. "Nothing. I told him everything I know, which is practically nothing. I have no reason to get involved in whatever this is."

"But you're curious," Jamie observed, knowing me too well.

I sighed, returning to my work station. "Curiosity is dangerous in situations like this. Whatever that Alpha is mixed up in, it's serious enough to have the head detective personally investigating."

Jamie was quiet for a moment, fiddling with a flower stem. "Do you think he's okay? Jensen, I mean."

I remembered the wild panic in Jensen's eyes, the way he'd looked around my shop as if something was chasing him. "I don't know," I admitted. "But he was terrified of something—or someone."

Jamie nodded, his expression somber. "Like running-for-your-life scared."

"Exactly." I picked up my scissors again, needing to keep my hands busy. "But it's not our problem. We have a business to run, orders to fill."

"Right," Jamie agreed, a little too quickly. "Totally not our problem."

The morning passed in a blur of customers and arrangements. I kept myself busy, focusing on each order with meticulous attention, but my mind kept circling back to Detective Collins and the missing Alpha. By midday, the nagging feeling that I was missing something important had settled firmly between my shoulder blades.

"I'm heading out for lunch," Jamie announced, untying his apron. "Want me to bring you something back?"

I shook my head. "I brought something from home."

"You sure? I can grab that soup you like."

"I'm fine, Jamie. Go enjoy your break."

After he left, I locked myself in the office at the back of the shop to eat, my mind still flashing back to the Detective and what could be going on.

Chapter Seven

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