Page 16 of Falling for the Wrong Guy

It took them some effort to get back on the dock. We’d attracted a few onlookers from on the other boats. I waved to let them know everything was fine. Something told me my welcome at the marina would be short-lived, especially with the police already zeroing in on my unregistered boat.

“We’ll find those coins, one way or another,” the man snarled before they lumbered back down the dock.

I sat down hard on the bench and scrubbed my face with my hands. Gus dropped down next to me. “Thanks, buddy, you did me a solid. Fresh can of sardines tonight. Seems like I was right. Those people who beat Quinn nearly to death got some information out of him before the guards stopped them. Just wonder how much.” I looked up. The two men were just reaching the parking lot and an old green Ford truck. At least now I knew what vehicle to look out for. I’d let Angie know, too, only I had to be careful not to scare her. “My job just got a little harder, but then that’s the story of my life, Gus, right?” I smoothed my hand over his head. “Have I mentioned that you’re a great listener? Did you know that some people make a hundred-fifty bucks an hour just listening to people’s problems? Heck, you’re worth at least twice that because you never try to give out advice.”

ChapterTwelve

Aria

Ifinished eating half a grilled cheese before having to fire the stove up again for the lunch crowd. My prediction was right. Most of the locals and regulars had filled their bellies with buttery pumpkin pancakes, so there were far fewer customers for lunch. Officer Tuttle returned as promised.

Linda came in with a few orders and clipped them to the order wire. “Your sister Ella is out front. She says she wants a grilled cheese, easy on the butter.”

I rolled my eyes. Ella would ask for a grilled cheese, light on butter, and then finish her meal with a giant slab of brownie and scoop of ice cream. I started her sandwich and glanced out toward the dining room. Owen Tuttle had already made his way over to her at the counter to start up a chat. He pushed his chest out often, to show off his shiny badge, in case she’d forgotten that he was a policeman. The crisp uniform really was a dead giveaway. He was so busy smiling and talking to Ella, he didn’t notice a rather shady-looking pair of men walk into the restaurant. One of them, wearing a long, black coat, had a massive lump on the side of his forehead, and the other wore a black beanie. There were a lot of gruesome tattoos on his neck. His jaw was big and square. They were both giant, and they didn’t look like the type you’d bring home to your parents. Unless you really disliked your parents.

I’d never seen either of them before, and that was probably a good thing. Nothing about them seemed right. The man with the tattoos had deep set eyes. He peered around the café, and his eyes landed on Officer Tuttle. Owen was still oblivious to the newcomers. The men could probably hold the entire place at gunpoint, clear out my register and walk out, and Owen would miss the whole thing simply because Ella was sitting in front of him. I felt bad for him because I knew that Ella had no interest in him at all. She liked the quiet, dark and reserved type.

Linda hurried into the kitchen with wide eyes. “Did you see those customers who just walked in? I don’t want to take their orders. They look scary.”

I flipped the grilled cheese. “I’ll do it. There’s an order ready.” I walked out.

The second Ella spotted me she smiled and waved. “Oh, there’s Aria. I really need to talk to her. It was nice talking to you, Owen.”

Owen walked away reluctantly until he saw Linda carrying his lunch to the table. On his way across the room, he finally took note of the unsavory-looking men who’d just walked in. He stared at them, and they both smiled and nodded at Owen. He adjusted his gun belt before sitting down. It was hard to tell if he did so to remind the men he had a gun, or if he just needed to adjust the heavy belt. Either way, neither man looked too daunted by the presence of an officer.

I picked up two menus. Ella leaned my way with a wide-eyed look, and I nodded in agreement. “Is this table all right?” I’d decided to seat them on the side of the room with the police officer. I wasn’t entirely confident about Owen Tuttle’s ability to bring down two oversized men, but as he’d pointed out with his belt adjustment, he was the one in the room with a gun. I was still counting on the fact that he wouldn’t need to use it. I was almost angry at myself for immediately jumping to conclusions about the two men based solely on their appearances.

I smiled politely as I put down their menus. “Can I get either of you some coffee?”

The man with the tattoos grinned, showing some stained teeth. He then leaned back on my expensive, specially ordered dining chair and brazenly looked me up and down. Nonna always said your first instinct was almost always right. I hadn’t misjudged them at all.

“Why don’t you bring yourself a cup, too, and you can join us?” He patted the empty chair next to him.

“Black?” I asked coldly.

“Sure, sweetie. And make sure it’s hot … like you.”

“Two black coffees coming up.” It wasn’t the first time I’d dealt with this type of customer, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Ella was still giving me the wide-eyed look as I walked to the kitchen. This time she followed me back. “What creeps,” she said.

“I thought you liked the idea of mysterious strangers coming to town.”

“Yeah, mysterious like that big, hunky guy at the bus stop. Not like these goons. And the way he looked you up and down.” She shivered. “I sure hope they’re not staying.”

I put her sandwich on a plate. “Grilled cheese, easy on the butter,” I said wryly.

She shrugged. “Watching my fat intake. Oh, by the way, Isla’s baking macaroni and cheese for Ava tonight.” She followed me out to the coffee station.

“Maybe you should ask her to go easy on the cheese,” I teased.

She ignored my comment. “You’re coming to the cottage tonight, right?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” I glanced back at her over my shoulder.

She rolled her lips in—a sure sign she had something to say, but she wasn’t ready to say it.

“El?”

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