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“Phyllis Miller,” Rachel said. “Divorced, happily alone and runs the souvenir shop. She has a late breakfast and opens the shop around eleven.”
“You have a good handle on the people of Fool’s Gold,” Griff said.
“Only a few—the ones I see all the time because of my eating and coffee habits.”
Griff didn’t like the constant frown marring her pretty face. She hadn’t had it when she’d been in San Diego. The loss of her sister and the worry about the killer weighed on her.
Griff hoped that by sticking close to Rachel, he’d find the stalker who might turn out to be the killer. The bastard needed to die.
Candy served their meal and coffee. “Coffee is complimentary in celebration of your engagement,” she said with a grin.
“Thank you, Candy,” Rachel said.
“Yes, thank you,” Griff repeated.
“Have you thought about a date? Or is it too soon?” the waitress asked.
“Too soon,” Rachel said.
“But the sooner, the better,” Griff said. “I don’t want her to get away again. We’ve spent far too much time apart.”
“And I’m not one for a big wedding,” Rachel said. “The money would be better spent on—”
“The honeymoon,” Griff said with a wink.
He loved the way the color rushed up into her cheeks.
“I was thinking the money would be better spent on a down payment for a house.”
He nodded. “That, too. After a honeymoon.”
Candy laughed. “You two are too cute and obviously in love. I’m happy for you.” She left their table and stepped behind the bar to refill Al’s mug. “When are you getting married, Al? Surely, you have a dozen pretty girls wishing you would ask.”
Al shook his head. “Not interested,” he murmured.
“Really? Who was she?”
He frowned. “Who was who?”
“The woman who broke your heart?” Candy cleared away the man’s empty breakfast plate and laid his check beside his coffee mug.
Al tossed a bill on the counter and left.
“I guess Alan isn’t that into Candy,” Griff observed.
“He doesn’t usually have much to say. He just delivers packages and goes about his own business.”
A man entered shortly after Alan left. He was dressed in dirty blue jeans and a T-shirt with the feed store logo printed across the chest.
“And him,” Griff asked.
“Trent Morris,” she answered. “Works at the feed store loading livestock feed and heavy items. He likes the coffee at the coffee shop. Or at least someone at the feed store likes it. He comes in for two cups and leaves without drinking them here. I assume he’s taking them back to the store for someone else.”
They ate in silence, finishing with a top-off on their cooling coffee.
Candy delivered their check. “If you need any assistance planning the wedding, I’d love to help. I’ve always wanted to be a wedding planner.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know.” Rachel slid out of her seat and stood.
