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to the counter.  She had a feeling the rouge on his cheeks wasn’t just due to the cold outside.  His midsection had an extra layer it shouldn’t and she wondered how far he’d walked to get here.
    “Detective Hagen,” Lauren replied, trying not to glance Connor’s way to see what he was looking at.   As soon as she was able to get both of these men out of her shop, she’d close early and head back to her apartment.  “Was there something else you needed?  I gave you my client list as you compelled me to do.”
    “ We appreciate your cooperation.”  Detective Hagen lowered his voice as he leaned closer to the counter.  It was obvious that he didn’t want Connor to hear what he was saying.  “Do you still keep track of those orders by client name, even if they pay cash?  The items you sell seem very specialized.”
    “ Not always,” Lauren replied honestly.  She’d already answered their questions regarding Terry Sweeney.  He wasn’t a client of hers, although the wife had purchased a few things on her own.  Her death was a tragedy and she hoped that if the husband did do it, that he paid dearly for his crime.  In her experience, most predators escaped their sentence.  “If a customer comes into the store and buys an item that I have in stock, then I ring up the purchase as is.  I went over this with you earlier, Detective.”
    “And you’re positive that Terry Sweeney was not one of those cash purchases? ”  Detective Hagen reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a long piece of paper.  “Do you have a security camera installed here?”
    “ Yes, but only on a twenty-four hour loop,” Lauren answered.  Now she understood why he’d come back.  She was betting that the detective had put in for a warrant, but what she was about to say was going to disappoint him.  “The majority of my business is through the local clubs and online.  My actual store hours are so minimal that it doesn’t require me to have a more thorough security system.  The camera you see in the corner was installed by the previous owner.  It’s not going to have what you’re looking for in its recently recorded memory.”
    “What about your inventory?  Where is that kept?”
    “Half here and half at my residence,” Lauren answered, noticing that Connor had made his way over to the restraints.  Her stomach twisted.  “If I need to cut stones, I have to do that here.  I have a one-micron particulate ventilation system in back that takes out the fine particles in the air.  If I have easier projects that I can do by hand, I tend to do those at my apartment.  And before you ask, the answer is no.  There is nothing missing in my inventory.  If you could be more specific about what you’re looking for, I might be able to assist you more than I have.  Maybe there are some types of jewels or implements that you have an interest in?”
    “I see that you’re closed tomorrow.  Is there a number I can reach you at?  I’ll need you to look at some photos and help identify specific items as yours or possibly a competitor’s.”
    “Let me write down my cell phone number,” Lauren said, grabbing a scrap piece of paper underneath the counter.  Snatching up a pen next to the register, she scribbled her information.  “If it’s something I made, I’ll know instantly by looking at it.”
    “ I’ll be in touch, Ms. Bailey,” Detective Hagen said, turning on his heel and walking out.
    Silence seemed to descend over the small shop.  Lauren clicked the pen a few times before realizing it echoed through the air.  She couldn’t explain why she felt so apprehensive with Connor Ortega, but knew she didn’t like it.  Today was just one of those days.  If she didn’t spend so little time here, she would have had a sound system installed for at least some background music.
    “I heard what happened to Marilyn Sweeney,” Connor said, startling her.  He turned and walked to the counter.  A pair of