Page 21 of Bear and Order

"Nobody needs this many papers," she announces, dropping into the chair across from me.

I don't look up from the report in my hands. "That's because nobody investigates things properly."

She reaches for a file. "I investigate recipes."

"That's not the same thing."

"It absolutely is."

I finally glance at her. Juniper is already opening another folder, and several loose pages immediately slide onto the table. She catches one, misses another, and a third lands on the floor.

"You proved my point." I say with my eyes shut.

"You saw nothing."

"I saw everything."

She bends to retrieve the paper, her hair spilling across one shoulder with the movement. My attention lingers longer than it should. I return my focus to the reports immediately.

Safer. Much safer.

"We need a system," Juniper says.

"We have a system."

She gestures at the table. "This?"

"It makes sense."

"To who?"she asks.

"Me."

She snorts. "That's not reassuring." Unfortunately, she's right — the table currently resembles the aftermath of an argument between paperwork and sanity. Still, I know where everything is. Mostly.

I pick up another complaint file, and the same problem appears repeatedly. My attention sharpens. I pull several documents closer, then another.

She notices immediately. "What?"

I compare signatures, dates, approval marks, and magical verification seals. Something isn't right. "I think I found something."

She immediately abandons her own paperwork and moves closer. Too close. The scent of vanilla reaches me, and my concentration falters.

Annoying. Very annoying.

Juniper leans over the table. "What am I looking at?"

"The magical signatures." I point toward the complaints. "The verification marks."

She frowns and studies them. Several moments pass before she shrugs. "They look normal."

"They aren't."

I spread the documents side by side. "Look closer."

She does. A crease forms between her brows, then another, and eventually she straightens. "I don't see it."

"I know."