“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Beth said.
After stowing all our used mugs and dishes in the wash bin, I made my way down the wonky hallway leading to the patio. As with everything in this old building, it was narrow and not entirely straight or level. With the high ceilings, it felt like a secret passageway. We’d wanted to blow out these back walls to have a more expansive view of the water, but that kind of overhaul wasn’t in our budget.
Maybe someday, if we continued selling out and—
I opened the door and found the patio in disarray. All the flowerpots had been overturned. The furniture was tossed all over the place. The tabletop lanterns we’d ordered for evening events were shattered. Even the umbrellas were ripped.
My hands shaking, I reached for a chair and set it upright. A storm had blown through last night. That must’ve been it. High winds, rain, some lightning. I knew the conditions on the coast were more intense than where I lived a mile inland, but I never would’ve expected this.
But—
The flowerpots weren’t just overturned. They were cracked open, the soil and plants strewn all over the patio.
And the furniture hadn’t simply blown over, it was banged up and dented all over.
Wind alone couldn’t have pulled the lanterns out of the old lobster traps we used for storage.
The patio had been ransacked.
Someone had done this—and I could only think of one person who hated my flowerpots enough to cause this kind of destruction.
The thought hadn’t even solidified in my mind before I started stomping across the driveway to the oyster company. I was well on my way to the iceberg danger zone when Hale called my name. I turned in a full circle before realizing he was coming up the ramp from the dock.
I liked Hale. He came into the café every morning and usually again in the afternoon, and he always stopped to talk with us. He was a good guy and I knew he’d be able to handle it when I yelled, “Where the hell is Beckett?”
Hale laughed as he pushed a cart up the ramp. “He’ll be along anytime now. What seems to be the trouble?”
I flailed my arms toward the patio. “Something happened last night and my entire outdoor area is trashed.”
He took in the mess of furniture and flowerpots, his eyes widening as he made sense of it all. “Oh, shit,” he muttered. “Let me get these oysters on ice and I’ll help you out.”
“No, you’re busy, but thank you. Did you see anything last night?”
He shook his head. “I’m only around in the daylight if I can help it. I’m up early and in bed early. Beck will have the late-night report for you. He’s here all hours. He might be a vampire.”
“I can believe that.”
He pointed to SPOC’s roof. “We might have video. There’s a camera aimed at the dock. It might get a section of your outdoor area.”
“That would be great. Can you access it?”
Hale turned as a luxury SUV cruised down the lane and parked close to the oyster company entrance. “Not exactly.”
Beckett climbed out of the SUV dressed to kill. His navy blue suit was so crisp, I was convinced I’d cut myself if I touched him. His blood-red tie screamed out against his white shirt like proof that he was in fact a vampire. Dark sunglasses concealed his eyes but there was no hiding that granite-carved scowl of his.
It was completely unfair that I was A) often attracted (though not exclusively) to men, and B) Beckett had to be an insufferable, antagonistic jerk while also walking around with all that moody, broody,come over here and rescue me from my feelings with your magical vaginavibes.
Things could’ve been different for us if only he wasn’t an expert-level asshole.
Beckett slammed the car door shut. “What’s going on here?”
“This should be fun,” Hale said under his breath.
“I don’t find destructive pranks amusing,” I said.
Beckett stared at me for a moment, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “And I don’t find asinine riddles amusing. Either tell me what problem you have with me today or leave. Some of us don’t have time to chat with the townsfolk all day.”
The arrogance on this man. Made me want to hide musty old onions in his car. It just had to be an eco-friendly model too. It would’ve been so much simpler to hate him for driving a tone-deaf gas guzzler. “You trashed my patio. There’s broken glass everywhere.”
