I pointed down toward our feet. It was no coincidence that we were standing on the same stretch of sidewalk where I'd spotted Ryder from the dock. "Right. Because you were standinghere, gawking like a jackass."
"So?"
"So it distracted the hell out of me."No lie.I'd been so shocked to see him that I'd missed half of whatever the brunette had been saying.
As usual, Ryder had no shame. "Yeah, I could tell."
When I replied with barely a grunt, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver key attached to a rustic keychain. He gave the key a quick dangle and said, "Now c'mon, I'll show you the place."
I gave the key a tired look. "Terrific. I can't wait." As we turned to leave, I glanced down at the pastry box in my hands. The box looked harmless enough. And hey, it wasn't ticking, sothatwas good at least.
Still, I'd be a fool to trust it.
If I were a betting man – and apparently I was – I'd bet on raisins all the way down.
5
Disco Down
Maisie
The first thing I saw? The bikes.
A row of them was supposed to be lined up out front – gleaming and ready for the day. Instead, my entire fleet remained behind the locked decorative fence where they would catch nobody's quick attention.
I mean, sure, the bikes were within view – but only if someone stopped to look.
That was the bad news.
Worse news?At least a dozen of the bikes were tipped over with their handlebars tangled like some drunken game of pick-up sticks. On several bicycles, the chains dangled loose with the metal strands gleaming dully in the morning sun.
My stomach dropped. "What the hell?"
My gaze zoomed in on three of the fallen bikes. They were part of a special collection that my dad had commissioned just two years ago – a year and a half before he died.
My heart ached at the sight – and not only because I still missed him like crazy. Those bikes had cost a fortune, literally, and had yet to make a dent in their outrageous cost.
One of his personal favorites, Disco Inferno, lay alone on its side, looking like the sad remains of a party that had ended ages ago. Its chrome frame should have been glittering like a disco ball. Instead, it lay dully in the morning light, reminding me of bad decisions and broken dreams.
Slowly, as if in a trance, I moved closer to the fence, my heart sinking as I stared at the tangled mess.
My throat tightened. Even the generic rental bikes weren't cheap, and that was an understatement. If any of those frames were bent, I was seriously screwed.
Cursing under my breath, I turned and looked toward the front of the shop, where the neon OPEN sign remained ominously dark.
I squinted in confusion.Where on Earth was Trevor?
He was supposed to open today. The schedule wasn't hard to track, considering that I had only one employee – two if I counted myself.
The shop should have opened at nine o'clock. I checked my watch.Just after ten. "Damn it."
If only I'd known that Trevor wasn't here, I wouldn't have wasted my time at the dock arguing with the two duffel dudes – both of whom had been nothing but trouble.
At least the guy in blue had been nice. Sort of.But Mister Wall Street?He'd been a total grump, making my already crappy day just a little crappier.
And, now I was facing the crap trifecta.
With a sigh, I yanked out my cell phone and pulled up Trevor's name. I hit the call button and listened as it rang three times and then a fourth.I liked Trevor.He was a mechanical engineering student working on the island during his summer break. He'd been my employee for only a couple of weeks, but he had seemed like a perfect fit – friendly, responsible, and a whiz with the bikes.
