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He grins. “Yeah, Rocko’s route starts at five, so I can sympathize.”
“My only day off is Sunday, and even then I’m up by five. Habit, I guess.”
We chat a bit more, mostly about me and my kitchen, which is flattering. He tells me that he’s from New Jersey and that he’s temporarily staying with his parents a half hour away in Panama City. Before he leaves, I check to make sure we got everything on the list and sign the order form.
“See you in a few days,” he says.
“Hold on.” I grab a few of my best muffins and place them in a bag. “In case you get hungry later. My way of saying thanks, for, you know, backing up my story.”
“Thanks, Lucy.” Then he winks at me and heads out the door.
That night I have trouble sleeping which is unusual for me. Between my early morning hours and the medication I have to take because of the dog allergies, I usually hit my pillow in a semi-comatose state.
Was Rocko’s nephew flirting with me this afternoon? I mean, a wink doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but I’m still not sure why he backed up my lie.
Oh well. Maybe I should just chalk it up to good luck. Which I’m definitely due for considering that in the past two weeks I’ve come across two dead bodies. Or rather, Paco has. All of which means I can no longer ignore the fact that my dog has some serious skills. Skills that, combined with mine, could come in handy when investigating a murder.
Not that I’m going to investigate anything. Nope. I promised Travis I’d keep my nose out of this and I meant it. I do not need to get involved here.
Still. Poor Ken Cameron. One minute you’re babysitting a mobster and eating muffins, and the next you’ve got a bullet between the eyes. The whole thing seems kind of unfair.
Chapter Six
The next morning everything goes back to normal. Or as normal as it can be considering that the feds are hiding a mobster in the middle of a suburban neighborhood and that an FBI agent has been assassinated in the city’s park. But since no one knows this except a handful of people, the town is oblivious. My fifteen minutes of fame are clearly over because the early breakfast crowd is back to just regular busy.
I’m in between orders, manning the counter, still trying to figure out if Mike Armandi was flirting with me when the door to The Bistro opens and in come two unfamiliar faces. One is smiling at me like she knows me and we’re best friends. The other one looks like he just ate a worm and not the kind that comes in a tequila bottle.
“Lucy! It’s really you! You look just like in your audition tape!” says the woman. Mid-thirties, short platinum blonde hair, super thin, wire-rim glasses.
Even though I’ve never met her before, I recognize her as well. The voice is too distinctive for this to be anyone but Tara Bell, a producer for the Cooking Channel.
“Tara?”
“In the flesh, baby!”
Her companion is loaded down with some fancy looking camera equipment. Late twenties, tall, man bun.
Does Brittany know they’re here?
I gulp. “We weren’t expecting you till Monday.”
“I know! Ha-ha! But what’s the point of doing a film test when you know we’re coming? We want to capture The Bistro’s natural vibe. The everyday mojo between you and your customers. Not some contrived environment. Can you believe one town we almost picked had all the businesses put big red bows on their front doors before we came to film? Ha-ha! As if I couldn’t see right through that phony baloney.”
Yikes. “Who would do that? Not anyone in Whispering Bay.”
“Exactly! I’ve been in this town all of thirty minutes, and I can already tell this place is real. As in R-E-A-L,” she says spelling out the word.
Paco runs up to her and starts barking. Not angry barking, but he’s not wagging his tail either.
“Who’s this little fella? Aren’t you just a-dor-a-ble? You’re like a teeny tiny little ba-by wa-by!”
Hmmm…. Tara sure does seem to have a lot of energy.
Paco stops barking and stares like he doesn’t know what to make of this baby talk.
“This is my dog, Paco. He lives with me in the apartment upstairs. The customers seem to like him.”
“A dog, here in the café? So like every day is Bring Your Dog to Work Day! I love it! It’s so now! So hip! Wade!” she snaps at Man Bun. “Make sure you get the dog in lots of footage!”
