6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
T he bell jingled as the detective left, and I stared at the closed door for longer than necessary. Something about him unsettled me. Not in the way most Alphas did—with their overbearing scents and domineering attitudes—but in a quieter, more insidious way. Like he could see through the careful walls I'd built.
"Is it safe to come out now?" Jamie's head poked around the storage room door, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Depends," I said, picking up my scissors again. "Are you going to abandon me again the next time law enforcement waltzes in?"
Jamie had the decency to look sheepish as he emerged fully. "In my defense, that guy was intimidating. Like, top-tier Alpha intimidating." He slid behind the counter beside me.
"So...," he said, sidling up beside me. "What did Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Badge want?"
I handed him the photograph that Collins had left behind. "Remember that Alpha who burst in here the other day? Turns out he's missing."
Jamie studied the picture, his eyebrows rising. "Huh. He looks different here. Less... feral."
"That's what I thought." I moved back to my arrangement, needing to keep my hands busy while my mind raced. "Apparently he was last seen near that funeral home."
"The one where you got tackled?" Jamie's voice asked with a hint of concern.
I nodded, my fingers working methodically at the stems. "The very same. Interesting coincidence, don't you think?"
Jamie frowned, setting the photograph down. "You don't believe in coincidences."
"Exactly." I stepped back to examine my work, tilting my head critically. The arrangement was coming together nicely, yellow roses and white lilies creating a cheerful backdrop for the deeper purple irises. "Something doesn't add up."
"Like what?" Jamie moved closer, lowering his voice even though we were alone in the shop. "You think this missing Alpha has something to do with why that officer tackled you?"
I shrugged, reaching for a sprig of baby's breath. "I think it's strange that a panicked Alpha bursts into my shop one day, and the next I'm being tackled at a funeral home where he was last seen."
Jamie fidgeted with a ribbon, twisting it around his finger. "What are you thinking? That he's mixed up in something illegal? Or maybe..." His voice dropped even lower. "Maybe they did something to him."
"I don't know," I admitted, arranging the last sprig of baby's breath with more care than necessary. "But that detective wasn't just here to apologize. He was sizing me up, trying to figure out if I knew more than I was saying."
"Did you tell him everything?"
I shot Jamie a look. "Of course I did. I don't know anything about that Alpha except that he burst in here looking terrified and then ran out. What else would I have to hide?"
Jamie raised his hands in surrender. "Just asking. No need to bite my head off."
I sighed, setting down my scissors. "Sorry. This whole thing has me on edge."
Jamie's expression softened. "It's okay to be unsettled, you know. Normal, even."
"I'm not unsettled," I insisted, though the lie felt hollow even to my own ears. "I just don't like being in the middle of... whatever this is."
The bell above the door jingled again, and we both turned, Jamie tensing beside me. But it was only Mrs. Reynolds from the bakery, carrying a basket covered with a checkered cloth.
"Good morning, dears!" she called, her cheerful voice dispelling some of the tension in the air. "I've brought you some of those lemon scones you like so much, Vivian."
I managed a smile, grateful for the interruption. "You're an angel, Mrs. Reynolds."
She set the basket on the counter, beaming. "Nonsense. Just being neighborly."
Her kind eyes crinkled at the corners as she surveyed the shop. "Such beautiful arrangements today! You have your grandfather's touch, dear."
"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.