Page 66 of Last Date
“I don’t think you’re stupid. But I think you’re busy, and a lot has happened recently. You’re not a huge department.”
“Look, I’ll double-check whether the florist has any system in place, where they’d know if one of the vans is being driven after hours.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling reassured. “I know what I saw. I remember thinking it was an odd time to be delivering flowers.”
“I believe you. It’s just I need evidence.”
“I understand.” I flicked my eyes toward the dark-eyed guy and found him once more watching me.
Merrick followed my gaze. “Do you know that guy?”
“No. But he’s been staring a lot.”
“Is he making you uncomfortable?”
“A little.”
Merrick tossed down his napkin and started to scoot out of the booth.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, grabbing his wrist.
“I was going to go talk to that guy. See if I get a weird vibe off of him.”
I scowled. “But we’re having lunch. There’s no need for that.”
“He’s obviously making you uneasy.”
I sighed. “Every man with a black mustache does that to me at the moment. I’m uneasy a lot because of it. I never realized how popular facial hair is.” I tugged on his arm. “Sit down. That guy is probably wondering whyI’mstaring athim.”
Merrick seemed to weigh my words. “You sure? I don’t have any problem talking to him.”
“It’s not illegal to look at someone. He hasn’t done anything.”
Sliding back onto the seat, Merrick said, “That we know of.”
“I’m being paranoid.”
Doris arrived with two plates of steaming food. “Time to eat, boys.” She set the dishes down and refilled our iced teas.
We dug into our food, and I made a point of not looking in the direction of the guy with the mustache. Merrick would follow up with his officers and either rule out the florist or not. I didn’t need to obsess about everything. I needed to let the cops do their job. I needed to trust Merrick to have my back like he said he would.
“How are things going between you and the mayor?” I asked.
He looked up, fork halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean?”
I grimaced. “Oh, uh, Allister mentioned that you two had been butting heads over the Plunder Cove apartment proposal.”
He set his fork down. “He told you that?”
“Is that a problem?”
“How would he have known what was going on privately between me and the mayor?” He picked up his fork and stuffed the piece of chicken into his mouth. A line formed between his dark brows as he chewed.
“Does it really matter if people know?”
He swallowed. “Yes.”
“Why? Aren’t you allowed to have an opinion?”
