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“Oh, I am right.” He grinned.
She smiled back, again loving his confidence and the way he had of grounding her when it was needed.
They got out of the car and knocked on the door of the bar, even though it wasn’t open for another ten minutes.
Alex Hurley, aka Moose, the owner of the bar, responded with a scowl in place. His expression softened at the sight of Amanda.
I might come here too often…
“You’re a little early, Amanda, but for you…” He stepped back to let her and Trent inside, though Trent got a look through slit eyes. More bark than bite. To Amanda, Moose said, “You just can’t wait a minute longer to sink your teeth into our bacon cheeseburger and onion rings, can ya?”
That sounded delicious and just the mention of it had her taste buds watering and her stomach rumbling. That muffin was long gone. She held up her hands. “You got me.” Sometimes it was better to surrender in these situations than resist. If she and Trent relaxed, Moose would too. And if he was at ease, he’d be more cooperative. If they played this right, he might even let them look at the bar’s surveillance video without requesting a warrant.
Moose seated them in a booth and asked if they wanted a beer. They both declined. “All right, now I know something’s up.”
“Yeah, we’re both hungry.” Amanda tapped the table. “And I will take that bacon cheeseburger with all the toppings and don’t go light on the onion.”
“I’ll have the same.” Trent extended the menu to Moose.
He collected the menus but remained at the side of the table for a few beats before walking off. “I’ll be back with some ice waters.”
“Add lemon to mine, please,” Trent called out. Moose shot him a thumbs up over his head but kept walking. Trent leaned across the table to Amanda. “What are we doing?”
“Eating an early lunch.”
“I gathered that much, but do we really have time to be—”
“Your waters.” Moose set down two glasses, half ice, half water, by the look of it, a lemon slice in Trent’s, and gave them each a paper straw on the side. “Shouldn’t be too long, and you’ll be munching away.”
“Fantastic. Thanks, Moose,” she said.
“You got it.” Again, he flashed a thumbs up before leaving.
“I didn’t know that he was”—Trent jabbed his eyes toward the owner’s retreating form—“Moose.”
“Yep. Alex Hurley is the moose the place is named after.”
“Well, I pieced together he was the owner, but— Neat. Where did he get the nickname?”
“That is top secret.” She settled back into the booth, grinning wickedly.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Not my story to tell.”
“Huh. That’s how this is going to work.”
“You’re a detective. Figure it out.” She met his gaze, and his eyes widened.
“No?”
She lifted her shoulders and pressed her lips together, though she was having a hard time holding back from laughing.
“It’s some reference to his sexual prowess?”
“Prowess? Is that even a word anymore?” She was smiling now, not to be helped.
“What I mean is he’s, ah…” Trent’s cheeks flushed. “He’s…”
