Page 11

Dead men tell no tales, but their social media accounts tell plenty.

N atasha let her assistant, Candi, know she was leaving for lunch, then met Meg in the small dining room of her bakery. “I’m dying for some fish and chips. What about you?”

“Dalton and I ate there before the bonfire, but you know me. I could probably eat fish and chips every day. Especially those from James’s shop. Is he still around?” Meg followed her friend out the bakery door.

“He went back to England a few years ago. His son, Tommy, runs the place now. I guess James wanted to retire.” She linked her arm with Meg’s. “Remember how we used to eat there every Friday night, before we’d go into Seattle? It was so much cheaper than the places in the city. And so good.”

“James used to kid us that we were going fishing for husbands when we’d go into town.” Meg remembered the older British man’s teasing fondly. “He said we’d be old married women in less than a year. And look at us now. Do you think he’d be disappointed? In me, I mean?”

“I think he’d be disappointed if he’d ever met Romain. He was a jerk to you. Not only this last over-the-top, jerky thing. He never listened, and it was all about him. You’re better off alone and stranded on a desert island than married to that tool.”

“Seriously, you need to start opening up and telling me how you feel. This holding back is horrible for your health.” Meg grinned at her friend.

Laughing, they turned right and started up the hill.

“Sorry. I guess I am speaking a little too frankly lately. Since I have you in a good mood, what’s going on with you and Dalton?”

“Who?” Meg raised her shoulders, faking incomprehension. “I’m kidding. He’s being nice. Nothing is going on between us. I broke off my engagement to a man I’d been with for two years. I’m not ready to jump into something this quickly again.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Natasha said as she turned into the walkway leading to the small restaurant. The smell of fried fish must be pumped out into the street to bring in more customers. “So did you see your uncle on television today?”

“Yes, and I also talked to Lilly about what Meade had said on the ferry.” Meg and Natasha stepped up to the restaurant’s window and ordered, and then they found a table in the outdoor area surrounding the small porch. Once they were seated, Meg leaned over and updated Natasha on what she’d learned.

“Interesting. I heard Vi Chin talking to her cameraman today at the bakery. According to her, your boss, Lilly, hired a new agent last week and was supposed to cut ties with Robert the day he died. Maybe he committed suicide over losing his cash cow. Wasn’t she his biggest author?

What’s fifteen percent of a boatload of money? ”

“A rowboat or a cruise ship?” Meg’s phone beeped, alerting her that she’d received a text. She glanced at the message. “It’s Mom reminding me that I need to be at the bookstore at three today. It’s like she thinks I don’t have a calendar or I’m sleeping my day away.”

“Maybe she thinks you’re depressed. You’ve had a lot going on.”

Before responding, Meg waited for the woman headed their way with a loaded tray to drop off the food. “She and Dad both think Romain is going to come crawling back to me. That I need to wait for him.”

“Seriously? If he did, you should push him into the sound. Maybe off the ferry, so he could swim with the fish. Isn’t that The Godfather line?” Natasha opened her tartar sauce container.

“It’s sleeping with the fishes.” Meg sprinkled malt vinegar over the top of the long strip of fish. “At least that’s what I remember. We should ask Dalton. He and Junior watched those movies over and over.”

“Yeah, but he’ll do it in that bad imitation voice he does . . .” Natasha tried to imitate a character from the movie. Which made them both break out laughing.

As they were finishing up lunch, Meg remembered something else that she’d heard. “What about Lilly’s ex-husband? Was he around the day Meade died? He could have found out that Lilly’s agent was stealing from her.”

“But why would he protect an ex? I don’t think they were looking to get back together.

In fact, the last time I remember him being on the island, he left his girlfriend at the bakery to wait for him while he went up to Lilly’s house.

She looked like a Miss Georgia or something.

Right down to the big hair, Southern twang, and tiny waist. She ordered a muffin, cut it into fourths, and then threw away all but a sliver of the muffin.

Before she even ate a bite.” Natasha waved a fry for emphasis as she talked.

“My triple chocolate muffin. Most of it wound up in the trash.”

“They are addicting. I don’t think I could have the discipline to eat only a fourth of it.” Meg finished her water.

“That’s what I’m saying. He’s dating a psycho.

” Natasha put her napkin over the rest of the fries in the basket.

“Maybe I’m jealous of her willpower. Anyway, I need to get back.

I’ve got to set up tomorrow morning’s bake schedule for Serena.

I’m so glad I found her. Otherwise, I’d be up at three getting the cupcakes ready for the day and in bed by eight. ”

“I need to get back to the apartment and make a shopping list. Aunt Melody’s heading over to Poulsbo, to visit a friend and go grocery shopping.

Mom bailed on taking me to the store. I’m out of almost everything besides capers, canned crab, and dried pasta.

Which gives me something to make tonight for dinner and leftovers.

Especially if I raid Aunt Melody’s herb garden.

” Meg stood and waited for Natasha to go first. The walkway to the restaurant was wide enough for only one person coming or going.

“I can send you home with more day-old muffins,” her friend offered. “I think we have several apple cinnamon ones. I’ll be closing the shop at three. I’ll drop them off at the bookstore. I’d hate to see you starve.”

“More likely I’m going to eat my troubles away around here. Between your day-old pastries and eating out, I’m not going to fit into any of my clothes. Especially the ones I bought for the trip to Europe.” Meg tapped her hand. “And there I go again, talking about the Romain disaster.”

“What’s with you slapping your hand?” Natasha asked.

Meg felt her face warm. “It’s a habit-breaking technique. Every time I think of the person who must not be named, I slap my hand.”

“Oh, like snapping a rubber band when you want a cigarette. Does that even work?” Natasha paused, and Meg realized they were already back at the bakery.

“I’ll let you know in a few weeks.” Meg hugged her friend. “I guess I’ll see you later at the bookstore?”

“Sounds fun. I’d love to work on the case of the angry agent. Maybe that’s the title of this caper. Or An Island Killing ?” Natasha’s eyes sparkled as she teased Meg.

“Maybe. I’m not writing a novel. I’m writing a ‘how to investigate when you’re not a professional’ book.” She considered what Natasha was saying. “Maybe Lilly’s new agent, whoever that is, will want to help me sell it. After I prove myself to be indispensable as an author’s assistant.”

“You have some lofty goals. Or maybe we should call them dreams.” Natasha held up a finger. “Sorry. Candi’s waving at me. Something must need my skilled hand. The bathroom toilet is probably acting up again.”

“Oh, the joy of owning your own business,” Meg called after her as she headed up the street toward her apartment.

Upon arriving home, she quickly took care of the things she needed to do, including compiling a grocery list and starting a load of laundry.

And then she looked at Watson. “You know, at least when we were in Seattle, I had someone to report back to when I got something done. Now, unless it’s about work, you’re the only one who gets my daily reports. ”

He lifted his head, then dropped it between his front paws.

Meg laughed. “You’re probably as interested in my daily life as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was. The only difference is you won’t run off.”

She didn’t slap her hand, because this time, the mention of her ex-fiancé didn’t have the sadness hanging around the words. It was more about her new life. She glanced at the clock. “Time to head to the bookstore. Are you ready?”

Watson jumped off the couch and stretched. At least they were both getting a lot of exercise with the walks and her bike riding to Summer Break. She packed her tote with a few treats and grabbed her shopping list. She’d stop by Aunt Melody’s and drop it off before she went to the bookstore.

As she knocked on her aunt and uncle’s kitchen door, she heard arguing through the open window. She prayed the fight wasn’t about her. She couldn’t afford to find a new place in downtown Bainbridge, and she didn’t want to live with her mom. Not at twenty-six.

“I can’t believe you are treating Lilly this way. We’re friends. There’s no way she killed that rat of an agent.” Aunt Melody talked even louder when she wasn’t happy, and this was one of those times.

“Mel, I didn’t say she killed him. I needed to interview her and find out if she had a motive and what he was doing there that day. It doesn’t look good. She’d fired him.” Uncle Troy’s voice was smooth and calming.

“Yes, she fired him. Which is what you do when you find out someone is stealing from you. There was no reason to kill him, because she’d already fired him and fixed the situation.” Aunt Melody did have a point.

“As I said, Mel, I’m not charging her with anything.” Uncle Troy let the yet hang unspoken, but Meg knew it was there, and so did Aunt Melody. “Look, I’ve got to go back to the station. Thank you for making lunch. It was thoughtful.”

As Meg stood there, the door opened, and Uncle Troy almost ran into her. “Meg.”

“Oh, hi. I was dropping off my grocery list. Aunt Melody said she’d pick some things up for me when she ran to the store. I’m paying for them myself.”

He blinked at the barrage of information he hadn’t asked for but then nodded. “Your aunt is in the kitchen. Have a nice day, Meg.”

Meg made her way into the house with Watson by her side.

Her aunt and uncle were dog people, but they were in between dogs right now.

As her mother told the story, Uncle Troy wanted a German shepherd, but Aunt Melody wanted a toy poodle.

Their last dog had been a terrier. So they were waiting to see who would cave first. Or, if Meg knew her aunt, when Aunt Melody would find the perfect dog and bring it home.

She found Aunt Melody cleaning out the refrigerator. “I brought you my shopping list.”

Jumping at the sound of Meg’s voice, Aunt Melody hit her head on the fridge door. “Ouch! Don’t sneak up on me. I suppose Troy let you in.”

“He was leaving as I came up the walk,” Meg lied. She didn’t want her aunt to know she’d been eavesdropping.

She rubbed the back of her head and reached out to take the list. “Are you sure you don’t want to go shopping with me? It will be more fun with two.”

“I don’t want to leave Watson that long. And I’ve got a new assignment from Ms. Aster. She’s keeping me busy. It’s not quite what I’d expected, but the money’s nice, and she seems to like what I’m doing.”

“Is the work too hard? I know Lilly’s books are filled with twists. Maybe it will take a while for you to learn her style.” Aunt Melody put my list up with hers on the fridge. “I know you weren’t planning on being a writer.”

But Meg had back in high school, when she thought she could do anything. Only when people had started talking about being practical and getting a degree that was worth something had she changed direction.

Aunt Melody didn’t know about Meg’s book. Neither did her mom. And she wanted it to stay that way. “I could do more. She has me doing things I hadn’t expected. Like looking up ways to kill people or places to hide the body. I thought maybe I’d be an early reader or work on marketing.”

“I think she has people for that. Honestly, I think she needs someone to bounce ideas off who won’t be using them to write their own book.

She had an assistant who was stealing plotlines for her book last year.

Lilly was heartbroken. She liked this girl but had to fire her.

Since you’re not in the book business, she agreed to take a chance on you. ”

Meg blinked. So much for her dream about chatting about writing and Lilly helping her find an agent for the how-to book.

Now she needed to keep it secret from one more person.

Maybe she should tell Natasha and Dalton not to tell anyone.

She’d see them at the bookstore after Mom left tonight. They could talk then.

“Well, Mom’s expecting me. I forgot to ask, how was your dinner last night?” Meg tried to carefully steer the conversation away from Lilly Aster before she said something that would get her fired.

“You know your mom and me. When we get together, we have a lot of fun. I’m sorry that your mom didn’t have another girl, so you could have a partner in crime. Junior’s an all right kid, but he’s more like his dad. And you two don’t seem to spend a lot of time together.”

Aunt Melody was right about that. Junior wasn’t that much older than her, but he’d always felt like he was in a world of his own. And he’d had Dalton to hang with. They hadn’t wanted a baby sister hanging around.

“I have Natasha,” Meg said, and it was true. Unlike Rachel, who’d probably pretended to be friends to have someone to gossip with about the other sorority girls, Natasha had always been there for her. “Anyway, let me know what I owe for the groceries. I’ve got cash in the apartment.”

She had the money she’d taken from Romain’s money clip as well as her own cash stash, which she’d started to pay for the next vacation. At least she wouldn’t starve if her family kicked her out of the garage apartment.

* * *

Mom had already left the shop when the bell rang and Natasha and Dalton came in together. Dalton was carrying a box from Natasha’s bakery.

“If you keep bringing treats, we’ll all be too fat to go sleuthing, anyway.” Meg watched as her friends made their way into the shop.

Natasha flashed a smile. “You’re going to become my new taste testers. Serena and I adjusted our coconut lemon cupcakes today, and I brought three for us. I need to know if they work.”

And as Meg gathered with her friends, she wondered if Lilly had people like this besides Aunt Melody. People who believed in her no matter what. And Meg added one more criterion. People she wasn’t paying to be there.