It sure looked that way.But that was ridiculous, right?
As far as his question, "okay" was probably an exaggeration. I was broke, in hiding, and my boss was a lazy dolt. Still, when I nodded anyway, I was surprised to discover that it wasn't a lie.
I actuallywasokay.
Crazy, I know.
Ryder gave a single nod. "Good." And just like that, he turned to leave. But when he did, it was like the place got just a little dimmer, and I fought a crazy urge to call out after him – even though I had no idea what to say.
I never had the chance, because next to me, Franny called out, "Hang on! I'll walk you out!" Without waiting for his reply, she swooped down, grabbed the half-eaten scone and popped it into her mouth. Then she yanked up the scarf, flung it around her neck, and hoisted the tote bag high on her shoulder.
Quicker than I would've thought possible, she bypassed the counter and scurried to his side. As Ryder pulled open the door, I swear I heard Franny tell him, "So I heard you lost Shark Bike to a different VIP. What'sthatabout?"
Shark Bike?
Wait…Iknewthat bike. It was from Maisie's shop.
Had Ryder stopped bythere, too?
And if so, what did that mean?
28
Killer Intel
Ryder
Apparently, my buddy Griff was a hit man – at least according to rumors.
The source of this intel? A certain local named Franny Mulberry, who, for reasons unknown, had decided I deserved to be in the loop.
And Franny?She was mostly full of it.
I figured that out within thirty seconds.
As she walked me to my hotel – her idea, not mine – she gave me the full rundown on island happenings, including a fudge shop feud, a bridezilla boat incident, and something about a stolen weathervane.
But whatreallygot me going?
It was those rumors about me and Griff – separate rumors, considering that Little Miss Gossippants had no idea that Griff and I knew each other at all.
Weirder still, both rumors involved a certain local bike shop – Pickett's Pedals, which apparently carried a whole string of custom bikes, including the shark bike I was accused of coveting.
Confusing?
Yeah, tell me about it.
But it was the story about my friend that really cracked me up. According to Franny, a suspicious newcomer named Griff had wormed his way into a job at that particular bike shop – except the job paid zilch, which led to the obvious conclusion.
Griff was a hit man.
And me?
I was amused as hell – even more so after learning that Griff's only compensation was food.
I had to give the guy credit. That wasoneway to stretch your cash.After all, a guy couldn't live on cranberries alone.
But the rest of it made no sense at all, especially the part about me wanting to ride a wheeled shark around the island.
