9
The next morning, I regretted my life choices. Fried oysters were delicious, but when you cooked them at home, the smell lingered for days. I wasn’t sure we could crack a window—I bet the sills had all been painted shut—but I would ask Clay to check.
A faint vibration warned me I had an incoming call, probably what woke me in the first place, and I searched the mattress until I found my phone.
“Hollis,” I grumbled, turning over and pulling the cover up to my shoulders.
“I can’t get over your Special Agent Hollis voice,” Camber teased. “It’s nothing like your shop voice.”
“You sound sleepy,” Arden yelled in the background. “Did we wake you?”
The worry forever knotting my gut these days lessened to hear them safe, home, and cracking jokes.
“Possibly.” I snuggled deeper into the mattress. “Anything the matter?”
“It’s past noon.” She sucked in a gasp. “Maybe I should apply to become a police consultant.”
“Sure beats waking up at six in the morning.” Arden sighed loudly. “Must be nice.”
“You’re traveling with your boyfriend too.” Camber cackled with glee. “Or is that why you slept in?”
“Hi, Asa.” Arden snickered. “Is that a banana in your pants, or are you just happy to see Rue?”
“Why would he sleep with a banana in his pants?”
“Performance anxiety?”
“Girls,” Aedan chastised from nearby. “Update Rue then let her wake up in peace.”
“Spoilsport,” Camber grumped. “Okay, so we did have a reason for calling you.”
“Okay?” I smiled at the familiar bantering, not minding when Aedan joined in at all. “What is it?”
“We’re doing inventory,” Arden supplied. “We’re out of winter rosebuds again.”
“Do we reorder?” Camber sounded doubtful. “We never sell them, but they’re always out of stock.”
“I’ll set some humane traps.” Aedan stepped in to save the day. “We’ll probably just catch mice.”
“Mice with a winter rosebud addiction?”
That was Camber.
“It can’t hurt to try.” Arden, of course, pitched in with Aedan. “How about we give it a week?”
“Fine,” Camber grumbled. “We better get back to it. Talk to you later, sleepyhead.”
“Bye, girls…and boy.”
“You guys go on,” Aedan was saying. “I need to talk logistics with Rue.”
Static crackled as the shop’s cordless phone came off speaker.
“If you really do set traps,” I began, “please don’t let the customers find them.”
“I’ll set them out after we close then pick them up before we open.” His tone warmed. “There are plenty of field mice at home to fill them with before the seven days are up.” A familiar creak told me he had sat in the chair at my desk. “Is this something that should concern me?”
“It’s on my to-do list, but it’s low priority. Whatever takes them isn’t hurting anyone or anything else.”