Page 19 of Hide Me Darling

"Taylor," I reply, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you, Ty."

A huff comes from behind Tyson, and I glance towards the sound. The other man must have finished hanging the shelves. He, too, is covered in tattoos, but while Tyson is in his early thirties, this man looks to be around my age.

Glasses frame his clear, bright green eyes, and his messy brown hair gives him an almost windswept appearance. His stubble adds an edge to his otherwise unassuming demeanor as he shoves his hands into his pockets and avoids direct eye contact.

"Don't mind Telvin," Ty chuckles, glancing at the other man. "He just wants to go back and play with his wood."

Telvin shoots Ty a glare that quickly dissipates when he notices my gaze on him, then he ducks his head. "It's not what he's implying. I'm a furniture maker."

"Really?” I say, a little surprised by that information. “Do you have a store where I can see some of your work? I'm renting the old Baker house and it’s partly furnished, but I may need to add my own charm at some point.,"

I don’t realize I’ve taken a step closer until he takes a step back. Then I notice him tapping his fingers together nervously. He obviously doesn't do well with social situations, so I make a point of also taking a step back away from him.

"It's on the other side of the island. I don't really like the tourist crowds, it's nothing much," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.

"He's being modest. Telvin does great work," Tyson interjects proudly. "He furnished most of this shop. When you need some more furniture, you should find him."

Telvin nods in acknowledgment, a small smile tugging at his lips. With a quiet murmur to Telvin, Ty directs me back towards the front of the parlor.

"Nice to meet you," I call over my shoulder to Telvin, who nods again before focusing back on what he was doing.

"Sorry, he's pretty shy. Now, let's talk about what you have in mind for a tattoo," Tyson says, guiding me towards a display of designs as we discuss possibilities.

Chapter 9

Hydessa

Ileft Saints and Sinners Tattoos with a smile and an appointment for the following week, that I knew I would have to cancel. As much as I was fan-girling on the inside, I needed to remember that just like all the others I have met, Ty is just another person of interest in my hunt for a murderer.

Since it's lunchtime, I decide to head to the café where I ate yesterday. The seafood salad was amazing, and I want to try something new today. Taking a seat at one of the empty tables under a pretty colorful umbrella, I look over the menu.

The chatter of other patrons and the occasional seagull's call create a soothing background noise. I listen in to the gossip, but it seems to all be the same as any other town. Mary something is seeing John and her dad is pissed. There’s the occasional complaint about taxes being too high, and someone who knows how to fix the world if everyone would just listen to him.

It all feels so different than the city. There you have to fight to hear everyone. Instead of the calming sea, you are surrounded by car horns and police sirens. I can’t remember the last time I ate outside without wanting to hunch my shoulders up to my ears just to make the noise stop.

The friendly waitress from yesterday notices me and makes her way over with a welcoming smile. “Back again, huh?” she says cheerfully. “Can’t say I blame you. What can I get for you today?”

“Hi there, Lily” I greet her warmly. “I couldn’t resist coming back. The seafood salad was fantastic after all, I can only imagine everything else will be too. What do you recommend today?”

She taps her chin thoughtfully. “If you’re in the mood for something new, I’d suggest the grilled fish tacos. They’re a hit with both locals and tourists and the fresh catch is some of the best.”

“That sounds perfect,” I reply, handing her the menu. “I’ll have fish tacos and a lemonade, please.”

“Coming right up.” She swiftly jots down my order before heading back to the kitchen.

As I wait, I take the opportunity to people-watch and gather my thoughts from the conversations I had during the morning. Locals move with an easy familiarity, while tourists are more animated, their excitement evident as they take in their surroundings.

I pull out my phone and check my notes, going over the information I’ve gathered so far. Each victim had been a tourist, that detail had been easy to determine from the blog posts. That and the fact they all had limited resources.

Thinking back to the post from last night, I try to figure out if I can use it to help me narrow down the search a little. The writers always make it sound like the victims have been stabbed, and the fact that the one last night didn’t struggle for long could be why there are no reports of her death.

I just can’t seem to shake the feeling there is something I’m missing.

The waitress returns with my lemonade, placing it in front of me. “Your tacos will be out in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Lily,” I say, taking a sip of the refreshing drink.

I’m still lost in thought when I notice a familiar face entering the café. The woman from the real estate office spots me and raises a hand in greeting before making her way over to my table.

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