Page 16 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

Collins nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Would you be willing to check the footage from those pickup days? Maybe we could identify who was actually collecting these flowers."

I hesitated, something about this whole situation making me uneasy. "The system only keeps footage for thirty days. Anything older would be gone."

"The most recent pickup would have been... just over two weeks ago," Collins calculated. "Right before Jensen disappeared."

Jamie cleared his throat. "That would still be in our system."

I shot him a look that he pointedly ignored. "I can check," I said reluctantly. "But it may take a bit to get. Our systems are a bit slow.” I didn’t think we needed the fast systems or computers, so I had been putting off getting them since they were expensive.

“Take your time. I can go have a talk with Reeves while you pull things up.” He gave me a small smile, his scent pushing out and almost engulfing me. I had to stop myself from swaying and stepping close to him. He smelled good.

I quickly shook my head, “That is fine. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.” I watched him give me a small smirk and nod before leaving the shop quickly. He left me weak-kneed and lightheaded…but I wasn’t going to let anyone know that.

I took a deep breath and quickly made work to get the surveillance he needed. The quicker they had it, the quicker they could get out of my life.

Chapter Eight

Jamieleanscloseenoughto feel like he’s part of my breath. I tell him to stop crowding, but I don’t mean it; there’s something comforting about having someone in this with me, our eyes blurring to fuzz as the black-and-white seconds of the security tape tick by. I’m tense, one leg bouncing, fingers squeezing the bridge of my nose. The scene on the screen is of the shop, peaceful and neat, long stems waiting in their vases, the floors a bright scrubbed sheen.

"How much footage is there, anyway?" Jamie asks, leaning back in his chair. His elbows brush mine. It’s a small room, smaller with both of us crammed into it, cluttered and close.

"More than enough," I say, clicking fast forward on the keyboard. "They’ve given me dates. It won’t take forever."

Jamie sighs, and I’m not sure if it’s because he finds this funny or if he finds it sad. "It could take forever."

"That’s the whole day, Tuesday," I say, as the digital clock rolls on and the file changes over. "They want footage from before that, too."

"That’s a lot of data," Jamie says, and I can feel his knee start to shake, his head move closer to mine. I am impatient and overanxious, and the motion is making me nauseous.

"The more we have to give them, the better," I say. I sound like I believe it, though I’m not sure. "We need to find them something useful."

"Reeves was a real charmer," Jamie says, a note of sarcasm curling his voice. "What do they want this footage for? It is just footage showing him here…which we know from the recites. What could they learn from this"

I stiffen at the thought of him, the sharp line of his mouth, the arrogance. "Who knows? Maybe they think it’ll show something only they can see.”

"Everything looks fine," I say. The stillness on the screen grows menacing.

"You don’t think they know already, do you?" Jamie says. He watches me like I have the answers. "Like, they’re testing you or something? Seeing what you’ll find?"

"I don’t think it’s that kind of test," I say. "If they knew, they wouldn’t be in such a hurry. They wouldn’t be asking me."

"Should I get out of your hair? Do you want to do this alone?" He asks, blush on his face, “I don’t mean to distract or ask too many questions.”

"Not unless you want to leave," I say, shaking my head. I turn back to the screen and let my face, distant and stretched, flicker back at me in reflection. "I could use the company."

He shrugs. I am not sure if he means he doesn’t mind or if he doesn’t care.

We watch as everything starts to bleed together. Too many pixels, not enough answers. I speed up the time trying to get through it as quickly as I can

"Hang on," Jamie says. His eyes are fixed on the screen, wide. "What’s that?"

Jamie rubs his eyes, leans forward, and tilts his head. "No way," he says, and I watch him grapple with the clip, as if his will can stretch it into a shape that makes sense. But there it is, crisp and certain on the screen. An image. A confirmation. I hold my breath and feel the press of time around us like a force, its lines crashing, colliding, reaching a point of impact.

We watch. The Alpha, Braden Jensen, stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, but there’s something different about him. He isn’t like how we had seen him, scared and desperate. Another figure beside him, a woman, her dark hair falling in straight lines down her back. Her hands are quick as she moves through the shop, looking at the flowers with a smile.

I look from the screen to Jamie. He is wide-eyed and silent, in a state of disbelief, but it’s an electrifying recognition for me. A heady sense that this was bound to happen, that things are moving, ticking, falling into place. My mind races ahead to where this will lead.

"Is that…?" Jamie starts, and I nod before he can finish.

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