Chapter 29
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 what really got 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 was one way 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.
Contrary to local scuttlebutt, I had not, in fact, reserved the "Sharkster" for myself.
Did I tell Franny this?
Nah.
I wanted to keep her talking, especially if it led where I wanted.
We were maybe halfway to the hotel when she said, "You do know that Maisie and Tessa are roommates, right?"
No shit? "Tessa? That's the barista, right?" As if I didn't know.
Franny snorted. "Oh, please. Like you don't know."
Touche. I didn't confirm or deny. But I did ask, "And who's Maisie?"
"Nice try," she said. "But we both know she runs that bike shop – you know…the one that gave your fancy ride to a different VIP." She said it like she had sources. Or maybe she was the source. Either way, the story was a load of bunk.
Still, I laughed. "Oh, that Maisie." On the surface, I was playing along. But underneath? I was zeroing in on what really mattered.
Tessa had a roommate.
Griff was working for that roommate.
This meant I'd be talking to Griff.
I'd been planning to, anyway. But another reason never hurt. I looked to Franny and said, "So that barista—"
"Tessa."
"Right. Have you known her long?"
"Nah. I just met her today." Franny smiled. "But you know me. I've got the goods on everyone."
It suddenly struck me that Franny would be an excellent source of intel – and not only today.
Reliable intel?
Eh. That was probably hit or miss. But assuming the roommate thing checked out, she wasn't completely full of it.
Testing the theory, I asked, "So, what do you know of her?"
Franny gave me a sly glance. "I know a crush when I see one."
I grinned. "So you think she's interested, huh?"
Franny chortled. "I meant you've got a crush on her."
I laughed. "What?"
"I can see it in your eyes," she said. "You've got it bad."
Hell, maybe I did. But I didn't confirm or deny. I gave Franny a look and kept on walking.
The idea was ridiculous, anyway. I'd met Tessa only a handful of times. She hadn't even given me her name.
Some might call this unfair. I'd given her mine – well, the first name, anyway.
Did she know my last?
If not, she'd be finding out soon enough. After all, I was Ryder "VIP" Vaughn – the guy who'd lost out on Shark Bike.
Tomorrow, I decided, I'd pay Tessa another visit and see where it went from there.
And while I was at it, I'd be digging for more intel – not from Franny, but from Griff. That is, assuming he wasn't busy taking out a mark.