Chapter 28
So Now There's a Hit Man?
Tessa
I was staring now. "You're telling me that a hit man is working for Maisie?" I forced a laugh. "I mean…you are joking, right?"
Franny hesitated. "Well…I'm not sure he's a hit man. But he's definitely something."
The more she talked, the more muddled I felt. "But you're sure she hired someone?" It seemed impossible. Last night, Maisie hadn't even mentioned placing an ad. Or hanging a sign. Or anything.
Franny gave me a secretive smile. "Well, that's the thing. She's not even paying him."
No way. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. That's the craziest part."
I gave her a look. "Crazier than a hit man?"
Her chin jutted outward. "Well, he's definitely in disguise."
"How do you know?"
"Get this. I've seen him two different times, right?"
I had no idea, but I nodded anyway.
Franny's eyes were gleaming now. "The first time he looked like a fancy-pants millionaire. But the second time, he looked like a regular working stiff." She leaned closer. "Suspicious, right?"
"Maybe a little." And that was a big maybe. After all, he could've come to the island in business attire and changed into vacation clothes later on. "So, what's he like?"
Franny pressed a hand to her heart. "Tall and broody with a body that just won't quit. But he's definitely up to something."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because nobody works for free."
I did.
But I was too embarrassed to say so, especially now that I knew how Franny would react.
I mean, I didn't want her thinking I was a hit man.
Still, it sent my thoughts spiraling. Aside from the prospect of untraceable tips, the only reason I'd taken the barista job was to keep an eye out for Delaney.
Was Maisie's mystery man on a similar mission? And if so, who was he watching for?
And then it hit me. It wasn't completely impossible that he was here to watch me, courtesy of Evan Carver.
The thought wasn't a cheery one.
Still, I brushed it aside, telling myself the idea was laughable. Unless he was from Chicago, I probably had nothing to fear.
Not from him, anyway.
And Ryder Vaughn?
The jury was still out on that one.
I returned my thoughts to Maisie. "But how do you know she's not paying him? Did she tell you?"
"No, Jason told me." Franny smiled. "He's my nephew."
"Oh. But you think he's a hit man?"
"Jason?" She laughed. "Nah, he works at the diner."
That took a second to land. "I meant the guy working for Maisie."
"Oh. Him. Well…like I said, I'm not sure he's a hit man. He could be something totally different." She brightened. "Like a millionaire banker."
"Oh. Well…that doesn't sound too terrible."
"Or…" Franny continued in an ominous tone. "A gangster in hiding. He looks dangerous. And sexy. He could be on the lam."
Sexy?
On the lam?
Good Lord. I didn't know whether to laugh or worry. "So actually, you're not sure what he is."
"No, but you should find out. You're the roommate."
True. But I wasn't that kind of roommate. Or at least, I hadn't been until last night, when Maisie and I had talked for hours over those festive little bottles.
"And," Franny continued, "if you ditched this place and worked for Maisie instead, you could keep a lookout, you know?"
I shook my head. "Sorry. I already offered, but she turned me down."
"She did? Why?"
"I guess…because I wasn't a good fit?"
"You'd still be better than a hit man," she said. "Maybe you should offer again."
I wasn't quite sure about that. But I did know one thing. Tonight, I'd be asking Maisie a whole bunch of questions, possibly over more tiny bottles of booze.
I liked sharing them. Or maybe I just liked having someone to share them with.
To Franny, I said, "I'll keep an eye out, I promise." But then I paused. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure. Hit me."
"Is there a pawn shop here on the island? Or maybe someplace that sells second-hand jewelry?"
"Why?" she asked. "Are you buying or selling?"
"Selling," I said, pointing to my earlobe. "These."
"Sapphire earrings?" She squinted. "Are they genuine?"
"Yeah, the real deal." I knew, because Mom had only told me a hundred times. "Anyway, I'm just wondering if you've got any ideas. I'm hoping to sell them fast…like this week if possible."
"Tell ya what." Franny smiled. "I'll ask around. If there's a buyer, I'll find 'em."
Hope kindled in my heart. "Really?"
"Yup." She grabbed a napkin, whipped out a pen, and scribbled out a phone number. Thrusting the napkin in my direction, she said, "Text me the full details along with some pics. I'll send it up the grapevine."
Just then, the door burst open, and Ryder Vaughn stepped inside, scanning the place like he was looking for a bomb.
When nothing went boom, his gaze shifted in my direction. "So, where's the riot?"
I wasn't following. "What riot?"
At that moment, Skip emerged from the back, still gripping that same spatula. He looked to Franny and said, "Hey! That vent was empty."
Franny frowned. "Really? Huh. Well at least you checked."
I looked from Franny to Skip and back again. "For what?"
It was Skip who answered. "Valuables." His gaze shifted to Franny. "Somebody said there was loot up there."
Franny snorted. "I said there might be loot." She looked back to me. "I saw it in a movie once."
"Yeah, well…" Skip grumbled. "I wasted a whole lot of effort for nothing." And with that, he turned and trudged into the back.
As the door swung shut, I looked back to Franny and pointed toward the cash on the counter. "Speaking of loot, is that your tip money, or…?"
"Nah. That's coffee money," she said. "Just tuck it in the till. I would've done it myself, but I didn't know the code."
My eyes shifted to Ryder, who was still watching from near the door. When he grinned, I couldn't help but grin back.
But then, his grin faded. "So, you're okay?"
The question made me pause. Had he dropped in just to check on me?
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 actually was okay.
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's that about?"
Shark Bike?
Wait…I knew that bike. It was from Maisie's shop.
Had Ryder stopped by there, too?
And if so, what did that mean?