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She went to the compartment and opened it up.

As she pulled a hand towel off a shelf, a plastic bag fell out.

Looking at it, she realized it was the registration and insurance for the boat.

Emmett must keep it there so he’d know where to find it.

As she went to put it back, she noticed that in addition to Emmett’s name on the registration, there was a second name.

Robert Meade III. She heard Dalton behind her.

“Did you find the towels?” he asked.

She turned around and showed him the registration. “Emmett must have known Meade. Did he owe him money?”

Dalton bit his lip before he answered. Clearly, he didn’t want to misspeak. “I don’t know. I saw Meade at the restaurant, but it’s the best place to eat on the island. He would be there. But why would he put his name on the boat?”

“Maybe he wanted to have collateral in case the loan went bad.” Meg took her phone out of her pocket and snapped a picture of the registration.

“What are you doing?” Dalton took the bag and tucked it back into the compartment. “Whatever financial arrangements that Emmett may or may not have had with Robert Meade are none of our business. I don’t want him to stop letting me borrow his boat because you started getting nosy.”

“But if he was involved with Meade, that’s someone else who could potentially be a suspect,” Meg said, then realized she wasn’t helping her case. “And who could back up Natasha’s story about how invasive Meade was with people who owed money to him.”

Dalton was thinking about that point, Meg could tell.

But he wasn’t convinced. After they had docked and were ready to head to the truck, he blocked her from getting off the boat.

“Just don’t send that photo to your uncle until I talk to Emmett.

I don’t want him to be surprised when your uncle stops by to grill him. ”

“Okay, I can do that. But if Uncle Troy charges Natasha, all bets are off. She couldn’t kill anyone.” Meg met his gaze, and the two of them stood in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Dalton blinked and stepped back, letting her off the boat. He took Watson’s leash. “Sometimes you are a lot of trouble.”

Meg didn’t look at him. She’d heard the complaint before. “I know. But I mean well.”

She wasn’t sure he agreed with her.

* * *

Glory was working the store when Meg arrived for her shift. “Hey, where’s Mom?”

“Your mother took the day off. She said last night wore her out.” Glory grabbed her tote.

“And now that you’re here, I’m off to Seattle for an art installation.

I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

Thank goodness you’re here to work the night shift.

I’m glad your boyfriend found you last night.

It was so crowded I told him he might be out of luck. ”

Boyfriend? Had Glory missed all the drama about her and Romain? Or did she think they had got back together? “Romain’s not my boyfriend,” Meg said as Glory passed her on the way to the door.

“Good, because he was a bit of a tool.” Glory opened the door and grinned. “Have a great night. It should be quiet since we had such a crowd last night.”

As she got everything ready, following her mom’s evening shift instructions, Watson settled into his bed, and soon Meg could hear him snoring.

Being out on the water must have worn him out.

She glanced at her phone. Dalton hadn’t texted since dropping her off at the apartment after a quiet lunch.

She knew he was wrestling with two arguments.

One, he trusted Emmett, and Emmett trusted him.

Two, he believed in doing the right thing, and if Emmett knew something that might help clear Natasha, he would want to help his friend.

Meg had the picture. Natasha hadn’t been arrested, that Meg knew of, so she’d leave it alone.

Natasha showed up with sandwiches at seven. “Sorry. I got delayed at the bakery. We had a line until six, and then I had to pick up the food. Dalton called and said he was busy tonight. What did you two do this morning that wore him out? He’s never turned down free food before.”

“We went out on his friend’s boat. Do you know Emmett Harding, the chef?” Meg moved her water over to the couch. As Glory had predicted, the evening shift had been quiet, so she’d worked on finishing the mailings that would get sent off on Monday.

“I know of him. I didn’t realize he and Dalton were tight.

He’s been holding out on me. I’ve been trying to get a reservation at the Local Crab for weeks.

My mom loves the place, and her birthday’s coming up.

” Natasha took out the sandwiches and then pushed Watson’s nose away from the wrapped food.

“Go lay down, buddy. I know your mom has already fed you.”

Meg laughed as she pointed Watson toward his bed. “Why should that matter? Watson thinks anytime anyone eats, he should, too. His vet is giving me grief about his weight.”

She pushed away the questions she had about Emmett Harding. Right now, she was going to have a nice dinner with her friend.

After they ate, Natasha gathered the bags and then took the garbage out to the dumpster. When she came back in, she leaned on the counter. “So are you going to tell me what happened between you and Romain last night? Is that why Dalton’s not here tonight?”

“What? No. I told Romain I couldn’t talk. I was busy. Which he should have been able to see. But it’s Romain. Anyway, he said he’d call me. I’ll think about answering.” Meg wiped down the coffee table. “And Dalton’s not being here has nothing to do with me.”

“If you say so.”

Meg glanced around the empty bookstore. The ferry had left; she’d heard the horn blast from the open window. “Natasha, did Uncle Troy say anything about how Meade died? You don’t think he’s looking at you as a suspect, do you?”

Natasha sank onto the couch and put her head in her hands.

Her hair flowed around her shoulders, almost touching the coffee table.

Finally, she flipped her head up and stared at Meg.

“He didn’t say anything. But I’m afraid he’s going to.

What am I going to do? Robert was in my car.

We kind of fought. I mean, he was angry when he got out of the car.

If someone had seen that, it could have looked like we were arguing about something.

I swear, I dropped him off, and then I took my car home and parked it.

Then I changed and went downstairs to the bakery and worked.

I made three batches of cupcakes for the next morning before I wore myself out. ” She closed her eyes.

Meg thought about what she had said. “Maybe there’s a way to prove that.”

Natasha opened her eyes and sat straighter. “What are you thinking?”

“If they have cameras at the ferry dock, maybe they have them on Winslow Way, too.” Meg pulled out her notebook and started writing down everything she thought she needed to talk about with her uncle tomorrow morning. And, she thought, this would make an excellent chapter for the guidebook.