Page 16 of The Shop on Hidden Lane

Bea’s clients arrived in every season and at all hours, sometimes in the middle of the night. Most paid her without any hesitation. But not everyone could afford her, so she did a fair amount of pro bono work. She always stressed the importance of using one’s talents to help others.

Luke went behind the sales counter. Bruce trotted after him. They both stopped and looked down.

“He’s not dead,” Luke said. “But he seems to have fallen sound asleep in the middle of searching the shop. His ID says he’s a homicide detective from Elk Cove.”

“What in the world?” Sophy leaned over the counter and looked at the handsome man sprawled on the floor. “Damn. Just when I thought this night could not get any more complicated.”

Luke held up a leather badge holder. “You know him?”

“Oh, yeah.” She grimaced. “His name is Mack Rivington. I’ve worked a few cases with him this past year.”

“And?”

“And we dated for a while,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Things did not end well?”

She gave him a sharp, cold smile. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Luke nodded. “Got it. One of your failed experiments. Any idea what he’s doing here in your aunt’s shop in the middle of the night?”

“I’m sure Mack came here for the same reason you did. He wants something from me. Probably my help on a case.”

Irritation flashed in Luke’s amber eyes. She got the impression he didn’t like having his motives for contacting her compared to Mack’s.

“Would you happen to know why he fell asleep on the floor?” he asked coldly.

“Smell that faint whiff of herbs?”

“Yes.”

“He tripped one of Aunt Bea’s aromatherapy traps. They are part of her security system. I set them tonight before we left for the read at the cabin.”

“Why isn’t it affecting us?” Luke glanced at Bruce. “Or him? His sense of smell is a hell of a lot better than a human’s.”

“Aunt Bea’s traps are designed to have a very limited range. Once released, the drug dissipates quickly in the atmosphere.”

“How long will Rivington be out?” Luke asked.

“Hard to say because we don’t know when he got hit or how much he inhaled. Best guess is several hours. The more important question is, what am I going to do with him tonight?”

“I’ll put him in his own cuffs. When he wakes up I’ll have a chat with him.”

The cold edge on the words was alarming.

“What do you mean?” she said. “I’m not Mack’s biggest fan, but he’s a good cop. I’m sure he’s not involved in whatever went down at Deke’s cabin.”

“If he’s such an honest cop, where’s his vehicle? It isn’t parked out in the driveway.”

“It’s probably at the back of the house. Mack doesn’t come here very often but when he does, he is always careful to park out of sight.”

“Why does Rivington want to sneak around?”

For some obscure reason she felt obliged to defend the sleeping man. Mack was in no position to speak for himself.

“He doesn’t sneak around,” she said. “Not exactly.”

“Okay then, why does he go out of his way to avoid being seen here at Bea’s shop?”