“They’re called amateurs for a reason, Toby. Besides, I thought you were going to audition for a part?”
“No time. Between working here and for your boyfriend, and trying to see Elisa at least once a week, I’m booked. I barely get six hours of sleep most nights.” He grinned. “No wonder I ran through chicks like bottled water. They need a lot of attention.”
“But she’s worth it, right?” I liked the fact Toby was finally in a real relationship. We’d even double-dated a couple of times, taking in a show in the city or a late dinner when Tim took over the on-call for a night. Greg had been hinting that we should sneak away alone for a weekend trip while the tourist season was a little slow, but finding Kent’s body would put a wrench in that plan, especially if Darla was correct and it was murder.
Dating a cop was hard. No way around it.
Toby cocked his head, watching my thoughts flash across my face. “There’s not trouble between you and the boss, is there?”
“We were talking about you and Elisa, not my love life.”
He shrugged. “So? I hear things.”
Now he had me hooked. “Like what things?”
He glanced around the still empty shop, looking like he was praying for a busload of tourists to flood into the store. “Okay, he told me you were ticked off about his report to the Business-to-Business meeting. That’s all, I swear.”
“Men are such gossips.” I smiled. “I was mad. But we talked about the issue and he promised never, ever to talk to Sherry again.”
“Boss—” he started, then stopped.
“What?” I laughed. “I know, it’s a stupid rule, but I needed some reassurance, especially since Sherry opened a business down the street. We’ll be running into her day and night now. I guess I need to get over myself, but she can be so, well, pushy. At least when it comes to Greg.”
Toby ran his hand over his face. “Look, you didn’t hear it from me, right?”
I stared at the man across from me. “I didn’t hear what?”
“I mean, it could be nothing,” Toby started.
Sasha came up next to him behind the counter. “You better spit it out, boy. Jill looks like she’s going to climb over the counter and shake it out of you.”
Toby cleared his throat. “As I came into town a few minutes ago, I saw Greg going into Vintage Duds.”
CHAPTER 5
My cell rang as I bit into the first of the onion rings I’d ordered as an appetizer to my fish and chips lunch. Add in the vanilla milk shake I’d sucked down half of already, and my total calorie count would feed ten women on a low calorie diet for a day. I glanced at the display. Greg.
“What?” I answered, not hiding my frustration.
Greg laughed. “I guess I’m too late. The gossip mill has already told you I paid a visit to Sherry today.”
“Why would you say that?” I had to give him props, he wasn’t hiding the fact.
He paused. “Where are you? Lille’s?”
“It is lunchtime.” Okay, so I was still being a brat. He probably had a perfectly good reason to have visited his ex-wife and turned off his cell phone.
“Order me the meat loaf plate, I’ll be right there.” He clicked off the phone.
I thought about ignoring his request, but then I thought about his baby blue eyes and how his chin stubble tickled my ear when he whispered totally inappropriate but funny lines while we were watching movies. I waved Carrie down.
By the time he arrived, his food was sitting on the other side of the booth, waiting. He quickly kissed me, then sat and drank down half his iced tea. He snagged an onion ring off my plate. “I’m starving. I’ve been going since I sent you home with Amy last night. How is Justin doing? The man was freaking when I interviewed him.”
“I don’t know. I tried to call Amy earlier, but she took the day off. Maybe Justin needed some TLC from the hangover he probably has this morning. He was pretty hammered last night.” I leaned back and watched him devour half of the meat loaf. “So you were at Sherry’s to talk about Kent?”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything, digging his fork into the pile of mashed potatoes. He held up a bite. “These are so good.”
I watched him eat and nibbled at my French fries. I tried another tactic. “So Darla’s saying Kent was murdered.”
“Ah, shit.” Greg dropped his fork and I leaned back. “I wish she’d stop spreading rumors so we’d have a least a day to investigate.”
“Was it murder?” Now I was intrigued, my fried-to-perfection fish forgotten. “Who would want to kill Kent?”
He finished his iced tea and set the glass near the end of the table, waving to catch Carrie’s attention. Then he picked his fork back up and dug into the mashed potatoes again. Before he took the bite, he shrugged. “Not a clue.”