Angela took a deep breath. Gripping the brass doorknob, she twisted it and pushed.
One step and she was inside the shop.
So Mindy wasn't lying, Angela thought. When everything else is locked up for the night, this place is open. I wonder what else that she told me might be true?
Angela coughed. The scent of incense was strong in the air.
Pike Place Market spread across nine acres of downtown Seattle overlooking the waterfront. Sea breezes and salt air fresh from the Pacific Ocean were the norm. But in this dark shop, it smelled like sandalwood, sage, and a hint of strawberries.
Her cough didn’t bring anyone to see who had come in at such a late hour.
Angela tried calling out. “Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?”
No answer. Not a sound.
Angela shivered. So Mindy was right about that, too. No one was here.
She made her way deeper into the shop, moving toward the faint glow of light coming from the back room.
“Hel— hello?” She hated that her voice shook as she spoke.
When she found where the dim light was coming from, Angela stopped and stared.
It was a wood-paneled room with a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The bulb didn’t give off enough light to reach the dark corners. But it did illuminate one very important feature.
A door.