Page 44 of Falling for the Wrong Guy

“Did ya lose something?” one of the men called. He was wearing an army green beanie and an old army coat to match. His friend was more bundled in a parka and a trapper hat with fleece lined earflaps. “Seems like lots of people looking for something on these rocks today.”

I walked over and sat down next to them. “Looking for something a friend lost.”

The man in the trapper hat kindly offered me a drink from his coffee thermos. “It’s special coffee,” he winked. “I’ve found that a shot of whiskey in the coffee helps these old bones from creaking.”

“That’s kind of you, but I’m fine. Thanks.”

The man took a sip himself and laughed. “Guess your bones aren’t old enough to creak yet.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“What are you lookin’ for?” the man in army green asked. “Lost treasure?” They both chuckled.

“Something like that. I’ve only got one clue to go on. Either of you know what the words ‘lyin’ talk’ might mean?” I was getting tired of asking it because it sounded so nuts. And these guys agreed. There was another round of laughter.

The man with the fun coffee could barely hang onto his hat. “I’m sorry, son, but I think someone’s pullin’ your leg.”

“I think you’re right.” I pushed my hands in my pockets to warm them up.

“Look what you’ve done, Mel. You’ve tangled your line with mine.” The man in the beanie worked to untangle the lines while Mel took another sip of coffee. The two men looked similar in age with enough craggy lines in their faces to show they’d both spent a lot of time in the sun, possibly out here fishing.

“Are you two brothers?” I asked.

A dry laugh shot out of Mel’s mouth. “Then we probably wouldn’t be out here fishing together every day. My brother was ten years older than me, and we had less in common than a dog and a cat. And Karl, here, grew up with three sisters. We’ve been best friends since our soldier days. Fought in Vietnam together and we’ve had each other’s backs ever since.”

“Wow, that was a tough war,” I said. “I’ll bet nothing brings you closer together than standing side by side in battle. Thank you for your service.”

“It was a tough one, that war, but we both made it back, and we’ve been best friends ever since.” Deep lines creased Mel’s face as he smiled at his friend.

Karl adjusted his beanie. “I told you, that whiskey makes you all soggy and sentimental.”

Mel lifted the thermos. “Also keeps my bones from creaking.”

Karl chuckled. “That’s what you think. I can hear them from here.”

Something Karl had said as I approached them fired back into my mind, and I was stunned how long it took me to process it. “Karl, did you say there were a lot of people looking for things out on these rocks today?”

Mel shook his head. “Karl tends to exaggerate. You should hear him talk about the one that got away.” Mel lifted his gloved hands and held them far apart.

“Well, he’s not the first guy out here combing these rocks today,” Karl reminded him.

“Yes, butlots? Two others to be exact, and they were together so that only counts as one,” Mel insisted. It was frustrating trying to cut to the chase with Karl and Mel.

“Two men?” I asked calmly even though there was a five-alarm fire going on inside. “Did they say what they were looking for?”

“Nah, they weren’t too friendly, so Mel and I ignored them. One of ‘em was big, like you, with a mean looking scar across his jaw. Wore a black beanie and leather coat. They rode up on motorcycles, just like you.”

“Yeah, but those were choppers,” Mel added. “You know, like the kind those biker gangs use. Looked like they could have been part of a gang, come to think of it. We were just as glad when they left the jetty.”

None of this was good news. It seemed that the gang that hired Ace and Leo had taken matters into their own hands. And I had no doubt that these new treasure hunters would be far more ruthless, adept and determined than the other two. I stood up. “It’s been great talking to you, Karl and Mel. And good luck with the catch.”

“Good luck with that treasure.” Mel was still laughing as I walked away.

My phone rang. It was Angie. “Hey, Ang, I’m about to climb on the bike and head over.”

“Oh, Dex, it’s not good.” She sniffled.

“What’s wrong?” I picked up my pace.

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