Page 104 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

“It’s worse than gossip,” Honey says. “Lena’s beta came into Sweet Tooth this morning looking gray. Lena keeps waking up convinced her alpha left her, even when he’s beside the bed.”

Honey continues before any of us can reply. “A tourist pack at Cypress Kiss Rentals had an episode last night. Newly courted, here for early festival blessings. The omega started screaming that her beta had been replaced. Sheriff Bentley sent a deputy and a bond medic.”

Wes leans against the counter. “Did they report anything unusual?”

Honey glances at him, then at me. “I overheard the sheriff say they bought a protection bundle. No vendor name Junie or I recognized.”

I keep my breathing steady. One bundle and one frightened pack don’t establish a cause. But man, does the possibility suck.

“What was in it?” Wes asks.

“They’re all over town. Junie saw one yesterday. Swamp lily, white thread, a printed card with a sweetheart blessing.” Honey lowers her voice. “And a tiny stone charm, because people are terrified without the Love Stone.”

Roman looks toward the evidence wall in the dining room. “Those features are worth comparing with what we already collected.”

Honey pulls out a chair. “You think the flowers are carrying whatever is making people sick?”

“We don’t know,” I say. “The plants we collected from the swamp retained unidentified chemical material. We would need to test the bundles to see if they contain it.”

“Not to mention not every bundle is coming from the same place,” Roman says.

Wes opens his notebook. “We need the bundle, the vendor, and a complete list of what the pack handled before the symptoms began.”

Honey exhales slowly. “So people might be carrying the problem home because they think they’re buying protection.”

“Might,” Wes says. “We need to verify before we scare the town.”

The rain picks up again, ticking against the kitchen windows.

I take a bite of a sausage roll because Junie’s note is watching me. Then another because Roman is. Wes says nothing, which is probably why I take a third.

Honey’s eyes soften.

I point my pastry at her. “Do not make this sentimental.”

“Don’t worry. Your reputation as witty and stubbornly independent will stand.”

“Exactly. Consistency matters.”

Roman laughs under his breath.

The morning almost feels ordinary. Food. Rain. Honey filling my kitchen with concern disguised as carbohydrates. Two men carrying my scent and moving around my house as though pack care is part of my normal.

I let myself have it.

Then Honey reaches into the last bakery bag. “Oh, yeah. Junie found these tucked into Sweet Tooth’s flower delivery this morning. She thought it was random vendor junk, until she recognized the same pink sign from a pop-up booth near the old post office.”

She slides a folded festival flyer across the table. Pink border. Tiny hearts. A fake old-fashioned blessing in curling script. At the bottom, beneath a painted swamp lily, is three words: Temporary Bond Relief

Wes reaches for the flyer. Roman stops him with one hand and pulls an evidence bag from his pocket with the other.

Honey looks at me, fear finally breaking through her sweetness. “Scarlet. What does that mean?”

I stare at the words. Relief is not the same as protection. “I don’t know,” I say.

Chapter 24

Wes Osprey