The shop's nearly empty this time of day. True that it hardly pulls in customers during its busiest hours, but there's something remarkably unnatural about an empty shop with no staff on hand.

Frazer-- well-burrowed in the back through a maze of tangled aisles-- hears the bag catch, hears muttering and the steady click of Meera's eager little footsteps. She's done herself the favor of switching Charlie's cell to silent, laying it out behind the cover of her book so the inevitable text won't slip past her watch.

Not that there will be a response, but...