Stupid, I know, but it meant a lot to me. And if it was the original mission site, it had a right to survive.
Besides, Craig couldn’t be right. Not this time. I pulled the door open to the almost full restaurant, waved at Lille behind the counter, who responded with a dirty look. Great, this should be a fun breakfast. When Lille was in a mood, the entire dining room knew it. Often people from town came into the shop for dessert after being run out of the diner by the grumpy owner. I wasn’t complaining; bad customer service that threw business my way was good. I felt bad for Lille. Most of the time, her bad moods were caused by one thing. Or, more accurately, one man—Ray Stewart.
I slipped into the booth across from Amy, who was on her cell. She air-kissed me while still talking to Hank.
“A drive down the coast sounds perfect.” Amy grinned. “Sure, we can take my truck. I’ve been meaning to get it out anyway.”
Amy was a California girl through and through. She reeked granola. Her Datsun truck was a 1970 something and had fewer miles on it than my aunt’s leased sedan she traded in every couple years. I played with my fork, waiting for her to finish her call.
“Look, Jill’s here. I’ll see you in two hours?” Amy giggled as she listened. “Okay, an hour. But I might be late. Girl talk takes time, you know.”
Gag me, I thought as I refolded the paper napkin. How in the world was this guy turning my surfing-loving friend into his Stepford girlfriend? Keep your mouth shut was going to have to be my mantra for the next hour. Amy finished her call.
“Sorry about that. Hank and I are taking a drive up the coast.” Amy closed her phone and laid it on the table.
“Sounds nice,” I said, trying to mean it. I asked another question, just to seem interested. “What else are you doing?”
Amy sighed. “I guess he has a friend who has to move out of his apartment.”
I’d taken an unfortunate sip of water right then and I coughed the water out of my nose. Grabbing my napkin, I stared at her. “Your big date is helping someone move? Using your truck?”
“Don’t act like that. It’s sweet he wants to help out a friend. It’s a good trait in a person.” Amy studied her menu, avoiding my stare.
“Sometimes I think you’re too nice for your own good.” I leaned forward, ready to tick off the long list of why Hank wasn’t the one and why Amy should run while she still had a chance. A cup crashed in front of me. Jumping back, the steam from the coffee pouring into the cup in front of me felt like it had been brewed on the sun. “Hey, watch it.”
Taking my napkin, I wiped up the spilled coffee and looked up into Lille’s face. Her eyes burned. “Sorry,” she barked. She leaned close to me. “Look, you stay away from Ray, you hear me?”
I frowned and shook my head. “Lille, I’m not interested in Ray. I’m dating Greg. The police detective?”
“So you’re using my Ray to make your man jealous? That’s mean.” The coffeepot in Lille’s hand shook, and I saw Amy move closer to the edge of the booth, preparing to run.
“I’m not using Ray. Look, the guy stopped me on the street twice. I told him to go see you and leave me alone. He’s the problem, Lille, not me.”
Her face turned even redder, if possible. “So you admit to being with him.”
“I talked to him. The day Craig was killed, he was outside Josh’s shop, listening to their fight. Then yesterday when I walked home, he drove by and talked at me through the truck window. I am not seeing him or even nice to him when he talks to me.” I put up my hands in surrender. “What do you want me to do? Ignore him? Tell Greg he’s bothering me? What?”
Lille looked like she wanted to roast me over a slow fire and eat me for lunch. “Oh, you’d like that. Getting your man all up in Ray’s face—going white knight for you. Stop the games, missy. I’m on to you.”
I watched Lille storm away from the table. I felt the
Besides, Craig couldn’t be right. Not this time. I pulled the door open to the almost full restaurant, waved at Lille behind the counter, who responded with a dirty look. Great, this should be a fun breakfast. When Lille was in a mood, the entire dining room knew it. Often people from town came into the shop for dessert after being run out of the diner by the grumpy owner. I wasn’t complaining; bad customer service that threw business my way was good. I felt bad for Lille. Most of the time, her bad moods were caused by one thing. Or, more accurately, one man—Ray Stewart.
I slipped into the booth across from Amy, who was on her cell. She air-kissed me while still talking to Hank.
“A drive down the coast sounds perfect.” Amy grinned. “Sure, we can take my truck. I’ve been meaning to get it out anyway.”
Amy was a California girl through and through. She reeked granola. Her Datsun truck was a 1970 something and had fewer miles on it than my aunt’s leased sedan she traded in every couple years. I played with my fork, waiting for her to finish her call.
“Look, Jill’s here. I’ll see you in two hours?” Amy giggled as she listened. “Okay, an hour. But I might be late. Girl talk takes time, you know.”
Gag me, I thought as I refolded the paper napkin. How in the world was this guy turning my surfing-loving friend into his Stepford girlfriend? Keep your mouth shut was going to have to be my mantra for the next hour. Amy finished her call.
“Sorry about that. Hank and I are taking a drive up the coast.” Amy closed her phone and laid it on the table.
“Sounds nice,” I said, trying to mean it. I asked another question, just to seem interested. “What else are you doing?”
Amy sighed. “I guess he has a friend who has to move out of his apartment.”
I’d taken an unfortunate sip of water right then and I coughed the water out of my nose. Grabbing my napkin, I stared at her. “Your big date is helping someone move? Using your truck?”
“Don’t act like that. It’s sweet he wants to help out a friend. It’s a good trait in a person.” Amy studied her menu, avoiding my stare.
“Sometimes I think you’re too nice for your own good.” I leaned forward, ready to tick off the long list of why Hank wasn’t the one and why Amy should run while she still had a chance. A cup crashed in front of me. Jumping back, the steam from the coffee pouring into the cup in front of me felt like it had been brewed on the sun. “Hey, watch it.”
Taking my napkin, I wiped up the spilled coffee and looked up into Lille’s face. Her eyes burned. “Sorry,” she barked. She leaned close to me. “Look, you stay away from Ray, you hear me?”
I frowned and shook my head. “Lille, I’m not interested in Ray. I’m dating Greg. The police detective?”
“So you’re using my Ray to make your man jealous? That’s mean.” The coffeepot in Lille’s hand shook, and I saw Amy move closer to the edge of the booth, preparing to run.
“I’m not using Ray. Look, the guy stopped me on the street twice. I told him to go see you and leave me alone. He’s the problem, Lille, not me.”
Her face turned even redder, if possible. “So you admit to being with him.”
“I talked to him. The day Craig was killed, he was outside Josh’s shop, listening to their fight. Then yesterday when I walked home, he drove by and talked at me through the truck window. I am not seeing him or even nice to him when he talks to me.” I put up my hands in surrender. “What do you want me to do? Ignore him? Tell Greg he’s bothering me? What?”
Lille looked like she wanted to roast me over a slow fire and eat me for lunch. “Oh, you’d like that. Getting your man all up in Ray’s face—going white knight for you. Stop the games, missy. I’m on to you.”
I watched Lille storm away from the table. I felt the
Similar Books
