Page 15 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

I shook my head, trying to process this new information. "Why would he do that? We're just a flower shop."

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Collins's voice was quiet but intense. "Jensen has no connection to this area—he lives across town, works at a tech company downtown. Yet he's been buying flowers from your shop specifically for half a year."

"And then he disappears, only to show up here looking terrified," I murmured, more to myself than to Collins. "It doesn't add up."

"That's what I'm trying to determine," Collins said, his voice measured. "Did Jensen ever contact you outside the shop? Phone calls, emails, anything?"

"No," I said firmly. "The only time I saw him was when he burst into the shop that morning." I crossed my arms, trying to ignore the unsettled feeling in my stomach. "And he barely spoke to me then."

"You're sure?" Collins pressed, his gaze so intent it felt like he was trying to see through me. "Think carefully. Even the smallest detail could be important."

I frowned, mentally replaying that brief encounter. "He said 'You're an Omega' when he saw me. That's it. Then he got spooked by something—the bell over the door, I think—and ran out."

Collins nodded slowly, processing this information. "The receipts we found were for identical arrangements. Every two weeks, like clockwork. White lilies, baby's breath, red roses."

"A standard romantic arrangement," Jamie offered. "Nothing unusual about that…it also sounds like a normal order our regulars get for their partners."

"That was our thought as well," Collins agreed. "But Jensen wasn't in a relationship, according to his friends and family. No girlfriend, no boyfriend, no one special in his life."

I frowned, trying to make sense of it all. "So he was buying flowers regularly for someone, but nobody knows who?"

"Exactly." Collins's gaze was steady on mine. "We've been trying to trace the deliveries, but there's nothing in his apartment indicating where they went. No cards, no notes."

I moved to the other end of the counter, pulling out our delivery ledger. "We keep records of all deliveries. If he was sending flowers regularly, it would be in here."

Jamie hovered at my shoulder as I flipped through the pages, scanning for Jensen's name. "Nothing," I said after a thorough check. "No Braden Jensen in our delivery records."

"What about initials? B.J.? Or maybe just Braden?" Collins suggested, moving closer to peer at the ledger.

I shook my head. "Nothing that stands out. We have a few regulars with first initials B, but they're all established customers I know personally."

Collins frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. "What about cash transactions? Would those be recorded differently?"

"We still enter them in the system," I explained, moving to the computer terminal. "Let me check our digital records."

I typed quickly, filtering for the specific arrangement Collins had described. "Here's something," I said after a moment. "A standing order for that exact arrangement, paid in cash, picked up every other Friday." I looked up at Collins. "But it's under the name 'Smith.' Not exactly creative if you're trying to stay anonymous."

"May I?" Collins asked, gesturing to the screen. I hesitated, then nodded, stepping aside to let him look. He leaned in, his scent washing over me as he studied the records. I found myself holding my breath, acutely aware of his proximity.

"Smith," Collins murmured, his breath warm against my cheek. "Always on Friday afternoons?"

"Like clockwork," I confirmed, scrolling through the transaction history. "Always cash, always the same arrangement. The last purchase was three weeks ago—right before he disappeared."

Collins straightened, his expression thoughtful. "And you never noticed him? Never made the connection when he burst into your shop that day?"

I shook my head, feeling oddly defensive. "As I said, we have dozens of customers every day. If he kept a low profile, didn't engage in conversation..." I trailed off, a thought occurring to me. "Wait. Jamie, who usually works Friday afternoons?"

Jamie frowned, thinking. "Usually me. You're often doing deliveries then."

"That's why I never saw him," I realized. "Jamie, do you remember anyone matching his description?”

Jamie shook his head, “Not that I remember, though you know I am horrible with faces. I am a more of a remember the name kind of person.”

I bit my lips at this, but Collins seemed to be thinking before he glanced at me.

"Do you have video surveillance?" he asked, straightening up.

"Yes, but it doesn’t have the best picture," I admitted. "Just a basic security camera…nothing expensive." I gestured to the small camera mounted discreetly above the door.

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