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“I knew you weren’t listening to me. Why listen to your mother?” Mom shook her head and got out of the car. “Anyway, if you need me, you know where I am. Come inside. Melody texted that the food’s on the table. Troy is actually here but needs to get back to the station.”

Meg hurried and changed, but as she was waiting for Watson to do his business, she saw papers in the front seat of Uncle Troy’s official vehicle.

She moved a little closer and tried to read what was lying there.

It was a coroner’s report, and she read the name Robert Meade III.

She stepped closer, then leaned inside the window so she could read the medical jargon.

Fifty-five-year-old male, five feet seven and two hundred thirty pounds. The body was found . . .

“Anything interesting?” Uncle Troy had come out of the house without Meg noticing and now stood next to her and his Jeep.

“I’m waiting for Watson,” she replied as she jumped away from the door, hitting her head on the top of the window opening. “Ouch!”

Watson was sitting next to her, watching the two of them talk. Okay, so that white lie didn’t work. She changed the subject, asking, “Leaving so soon? I thought we were having Sunday brunch together.”

“Almost a nice save.” He stepped around her and opened the door.

“I’ve got to report to the district attorney tomorrow, and I’m still going through the evidence.

On a non-case-related subject, I don’t want you to worry about the apartment.

You needed to come home. I never liked the guy.

He wasn’t good enough for you. Anyone could see that. ”

“I needed to hear that.” She hugged him. Turning the subject back to the investigation, she asked, “You know I’m working for Lilly Aster, right? Any chance I’m going to keep my job?”

“I knew you were snooping.” He chuckled as he blocked her view of the papers on the passenger seat. “You always did have a nose for investigation. I remember when you and your friends used to try to find missing dogs in the area. Didn’t you earn enough for a summer camp one year?”

“We did. We’re good at finding clues.” She fiddled with the handle on Watson’s leash. “I know it’s not the same, but I don’t think Ms. Aster killed that man. He wasn’t a nice man. There had to be others that he cheated, too.”

“You think he cheated Ms. Aster? Why?” Now her uncle was all cop, and he was using his investigation voice. “Meg?”

Great. Now, instead of turning her uncle on to other suspects, she’d turned the spotlight on Lilly. Not what she’d wanted. She told him about what she’d heard on the ferry and informed him that she’d relayed the conversation to Lilly.

He stared at her, waiting for anything else she needed to tell him.

“That’s it. Except Natasha said Lilly’s ex-husband has been on the island a lot with his new girlfriend.

He has her camp out at the bakery while he goes to talk to Lilly.

” Meg knew that this information also didn’t clear Lilly of killing Meade.

But if she hadn’t killed her ex for being a jerk, why would she kill her agent?

Uncle Troy started to get into his car. “I’m thinking that telling you to stay out of this investigation is useless, but this isn’t finding lost dogs. Someone could get hurt. Be careful, and don’t do anything stupid.”

She watched him leave and waved when he turned back to look at her. She’d been given a message. Stay out of his investigation.

Meg had never taken orders well.

She went inside the gate and let Watson off his leash. Then she went inside to have lunch with her mom and aunt. Maybe they’d know more about the murder.

* * *

Meg had been busy with customers since she’d arrived.

Her mom had a woman, Glory, who worked only Sunday mornings.

She didn’t want a lot of hours, just enough to keep her employee discount on books.

Meg assumed with the number of books she bought each week that she was buying more than her check even covered.

Glory had finished with the customer at the counter. Then, after hugging Watson, she took off. “Got to grab the next ferry to Seattle. I bought a subscription to the shows at the Paramount Theatre. See you next week.”

Meg watched the older woman hurry out of the door as Dalton held it open for her. They exchanged a few words, and then he came into the shop. “Hey, I’m on my lunch break. How did the chat with Cissy go?”

Meg groaned. “I knew I was forgetting something. My mom dragged me to lunch after church, where Uncle Troy Jedi Mind–tricked me into telling him about what I’d heard Meade say. Then I came here. Is she working tomorrow?”

“Hold on. Let me text her.” He pulled out his phone and typed in a message while Meg helped a customer. When he came back, he shook his head. “You’re not going to like this, but she’s gone after five for a week. She’s going to Florida to visit family.”

“Who goes to Florida in June?” Meg glanced around the shop. “Maybe you could watch the bookstore and—”

“Sorry. I’ve got to get back to work. I’m catching this ferry back to Seattle.” He tapped his hand on the counter. “I’ve got Tuesday and Wednesday off this week. Do you want to do something on Tuesday night?”

“Sure. I guess I’ll see you then.” She waved as he headed out the door.

A customer came up and put two books on the counter. “I’ll take these. Your boyfriend looks like one of the heroes in my favorite fantasy romance. Tell me he likes to LARP.”

“LARP? What’s that?” Meg rang up the books.

The young woman handed over her credit card. “Live-action role-play. There’s a guild in Snohomish that meets at the Renaissance Faire site.”

“Not that I know of.” Meg handed her the bag and her receipt and her card. “But he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, I thought I sensed a vibe there. Maybe you two haven’t found the spark yet. Friends to lovers is my favorite trope—”

Another customer came up and interrupted them. “Do you have the new Jack Reacher book? I know his brother took over the writing, but I can’t remember his name.”

“I’ll be right there.” Meg turned back to the woman, but she’d already left the store. She walked around the counter and met the man near the new-in-fiction shelves. “The new author is Andrew Child, so the books are still shelved in the same place.”

By the time she closed at eight, she’d had plenty of time to kick herself for not going to talk to the ferry ticket girl. And to think about Dalton. They’d become friends when Meg was in middle school and they’d formed the sleuthing club. But was there something more?

She locked the store and, with Watson leading the way, headed home. She had a couple of advanced reader copies of new novels in her tote and plenty of time to read. Unless Lilly started giving her more complex assignments.

A job is a job , she thought, then she added, Be grateful for what you have. If her uncle had his way, there’d be no assignments at all, because Lilly would be in jail.