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“No. Not one word. And we FaceTimed that whole year, almost nightly. It was before I started dating Romain, and with the lockdown, we were both stuck inside. I even asked her how the business was doing, and she said she had enough saved for a rainy day.” Meg took another bite, but this time, the dessert didn’t taste quite as sweet.

“I guess it rained too long,” he said. “Even for the Seattle area.”

“I don’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me. I had my retirement money. I could have taken it out and helped.” Meg blew out a breath. “Okay, so it might have helped her for a few months at least.”

“You’re a good friend, and she knew that. Anyway, she got through it.” He pointed to the cake box. “Eat the last bite. First and last bites are always the best.”

She thought about Natasha and the bakery all the way home, and when Dalton pulled his truck up to the garage, she realized he’d never answered her question. So she asked it again. “Why aren’t you at the bonfire tonight?”

He grabbed Watson’s leash and put him down on the ground. Then he shut the door.

Meg got out and met him on the side of the garage where Watson was wetting down a rock. “Are you going to answer my question?”

He handed her Watson’s leash. “I’m not there, because I want to be here with you.

I’m not that kid who used to love to party and hang out, talking about the time I threw the winning pass senior year in high school.

At least not anymore. And those guys . .

. Well, that’s all they talk about. What big shots they used to be.

Anyway, I’m sailing with Emmett tomorrow morning, and then I’ve got a double shift.

Are we hanging out Thursday night at the bookstore? ”

“Of course,” Meg replied as he headed back to the truck.

She saw that he waited for her to go upstairs with Watson and open her apartment door before backing out.

She locked the door and watched his truck disappear down the road.

Just when you thought you knew everything about your friends, people changed.

She wasn’t quite sure what was going on between her and Dalton.

He hadn’t tried to kiss her or anything.

She still had wedding gifts to return sitting on her table from her last failed relationship.

But it was nice having someone to talk to and do things with.

Even when she and Romain were doing fine, she was alone most of the time since he worked long hours.

Or said he was working.

The good thing about Dalton was he told her exactly what was going on. Something that she hadn’t had with anyone except Natasha since her parents sprung the divorce on her and Junior. Except now she had found out that even Natasha was holding back.

She’d talk to her tomorrow. Tonight she was too tired for that kind of discussion.

The envelope with the money and the ring and the note still sat on the desk. What was going on with her life?

Instead of crawling in bed, she popped popcorn and turned on the television to find some home remodeling show. Here, in La-La Land, even the worst dump of a house could be turned into an upscale home in less than an hour. Meg wished her life worked that way.

* * *

The next morning she heard a knock on her door. After grabbing her robe, just in case, she opened the door and found a basket filled with orange juice, muffins, and fruits. Her aunt was walking back to her kitchen door.

“Thanks, Aunt Melody. You didn’t have to do this.”

Her aunt turned and waved. “It’s a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ kind of Wednesday basket. I didn’t want to wake you. I saw your television on late last night, after Dalton dropped you off. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.” Meg knew better than to tell her aunt anything, especially about what she was thinking. Her mom would find out, and before she knew it, they would both be over here trying to fix her life. “Thanks for breakfast.”

She took the basket in and unloaded the contents.

At the bottom of the basket was a book. Healing From Toxic Relationships: Learning to Love Your Life Again.

Probably from her mom. She set the book aside and opened one of the muffins.

They were still warm. She’d had Aunt Melody pick up butter during her shopping trip, so now she got some out and slathered the cinnamon apple muffin with butter before starting her coffee.

She poured some orange juice and then opened her laptop and brought up the local newspaper website.

Meg had kept a subscription to it when she’d moved to Seattle, mostly to keep track of any festivals or weddings.

Now she was watching for any articles on Robert Meade’s death.

Nothing. Not even a mention of her uncle’s press conference. Did the newspaper not cover the actual news anymore? Or was it more of a tourist sheet now to give businesses room to advertise?

She did see an article that piqued her interest, especially since she worked at the bookstore and didn’t know about this.

Lilly Aster was doing a signing on Friday night.

She picked up the phone and called her mom, hoping to reach her at home.

When she answered, Meg asked, “Why didn’t you tell me there was going to be an author event on Friday? ”

“Good morning to you, as well, dear daughter,” her mom responded. “Hold on. I need coffee.”

Meg’s coffee was ready, so while she waited for an answer, she made a cup for herself.

“Okay, now, why do you think it is Friday? It’s not until the end of the month.

Your wedding was the first weekend. Or was supposed to be the first weekend?

Then we moved you home, and, oh, well, yes, the Aster event is Friday.

It’s fine. I ordered the books last month, since this month was so busy.

Maybe you can call Natasha and check in on the cakes I ordered last month. I’ll deal with the coffee and punch.”

“L. C. Aster’s new book is a big deal. We should have put something in the newsletter and up on the website.” Meg thought about what other forms of marketing they needed.

“Dear, that’s already done. Glory updated the website on Sunday and sent out a newsletter. I had forgotten exactly when the event was happening. We did survive for years without you in the bookstore, telling us what to do. You know that, right?”

“Mom, I didn’t mean to question your effectiveness. I didn’t know,” Meg lied. She had thought her mom had forgotten, and she had, but Meg guessed things were okay. “Anyway, I assume we’ll be busy on Friday.”

“You’ll need to unbox about five hundred of the books tonight, because Lilly will be in the store Thursday to sign and personalize the ones we’ve already sold.

We’ll start shipping those on Monday. Thank goodness she lives here.

I might not have had the bookstore after the lockdown if she hadn’t done her first event here for releases for the past five years.

That awful man wanted her to open her book tour at least in Seattle, but Lilly always let us have release day. She’s a saint.”

“Robert Meade, her agent, wanted her to move the signing?”

“Yes. He stormed in here one day and told me that there was no way I was living off Lilly’s release day push anymore.

He told me that I’d been taking advantage of her due to her friendship with Melody.

” Mom paused a minute, probably to drink some of her coffee.

“Anyway, I told your aunt about his visit, and she fixed it. I’d say it is too bad he passed on, but I’d be lying. The man was pond scum.”

She asked if Meg had gotten the basket, and then ended the call, but not before telling her that she needed to be at the bookstore at noon on Thursday so she could help with Lilly’s preorder signing.

Meg set the phone down and updated her weekly calendar. The only thing she could focus on was the possibility that both her aunt and her mom now had a motive to kill Meade: to save the bookstore.

That couldn’t be possible, right? She focused on her coffee and wished she’d never started looking into Robert Meade’s death or writing the guidebook. Nancy Drew never had to clear her dad of murder, right?