Thinking about committing a crime isn’t the same as doing it.
T uesday morning Meg rode her bike to Lilly Aster’s house, Summer Break.
A lot of the houses on the island had names, and as she pedaled down the street, she made note of them.
Isn’t that one of the tenets of being a good investigator?
Paying attention to the little stuff? That was good; she needed to write that down.
The house was on the outskirts of Winslow, just north of Island Bookstore and the ferry terminal.
Meg rode past a house called Happy Hour and wondered what the owners had been thinking.
Seagull Roost and Moose Island were next, and then she turned onto the street that would take her to the edge of the island and the Gothic-style house overlooking the sound.
Meg wondered if Ms. Aster could see Seattle from her living room.
Or, better, from her office. Maybe she’d let Meg call her Lilly.
They’d have tea—no, coffee—in the room and watch the ferries sail back and forth as they chatted about the upcoming book Lilly was struggling to write. Which was why she had hired Meg.
Meg continued to daydream all the way to the front of the house, where a large stone entrance invited her to climb the stairs and knock on the oversized door.
She grabbed her notebook out of the basket that Aunt Melody had installed on the bike, glad she’d left Watson with her mom at the bookstore.
He’d made himself at home there for the past week, ever since Meg had started working there.
It was nice to have a job where she could bring her dog.
Maybe Lilly would invite Watson to come with Meg to their work sessions. As she climbed the stairs, she noticed a black sedan parked on the circular driveway. She recognized the sticker in the back window. It was a rental car from the only shop here on the island.
She found a doorbell, and as she reached to push it, the door flew open. The irritable man she’d seen a few days ago on the ferry rushed out and almost knocked her down.
He squinted his eyes, recognition hitting him. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, excuse you. I was about to ring the doorbell before you tried to run me over.” Meg put her hand on her heart. She wasn’t kidding; the guy had scared her.
“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. This is private property. I’ll call the police chief if you don’t leave immediately.” He pulled out his cell phone and made a show of dialing the nine and the first one. “Why aren’t you running?”
“Because I have an appointment with Ms. Aster.” Meg nodded to the phone. “Say hi to Uncle Troy for me.”
He put the phone in his pocket. “Locals are always inbred.”
A woman appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Bobby, leave the poor girl alone. Just because you’re mad about our discussion doesn’t mean you have the right to browbeat my newest employee.
Or insult her and her family.” Lilly Aster turned toward Meg.
She wore jeans and a silk tank top. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup.
Meg almost didn’t recognize her as the same woman from the book covers.
“You must be Meg Gates. Your aunt told me to expect you. Come on in.”
Meg walked into the large foyer, which had a real-life knight in shining armor on one side of a grand staircase that looked like it had been used on the movie set for Gone with the Wind . Okay, so she was mixing her literary metaphors, but the place was huge and cool.
“Lilly, you need to be reasonable. They aren’t going to give you a bigger advance,” the man said as the door swung shut on him.
Meg heard his swearing through the heavy door.
Lilly must have also heard it while she walked into the living room and sat.
She motioned Meg to sit in another chair.
“I was told that the door was soundproof, but I guess that isn’t true.
That was my agent cursing out there on the porch.
Robert Meade III. I call him Bobby because he hates it.
I should get another agent, but that’s a lot of work.
Anyway, let’s chat about what I need from you. ”
Meg wondered if she should tell Lilly about the phone conversation she’d overheard on the ferry.
On the one hand, she didn’t know who Bobby had been talking about or to.
And, on the other hand, she didn’t want to look like a snitch on her first day.
She’d bring it up later. “Your home is beautiful. I’ve always wanted to see the inside. ”
“We’ll do a tour on another day. I’ve got a deadline coming up, and I’m not close to being ready. So you went to the University of Washington? What was your major?”
“Mostly general studies. I wound up leaving junior year to go work at a tech start-up.” Meg saw the look on Lilly’s face.
She wasn’t measuring up, yet. Nervous that Lilly Aster would think Meg was a loser, she started to sweat as she added, “I took a lot of literature and English classes. I guess I wanted more to learn than to prepare for a career.”
Lilly’s eyes blinked. Meg’s answer appeared to have surprised her. “Lifelong learning is an admirable trait. Have you read any of my books?”
“I’ve read all of them. My mom owns the bookstore on the island, and your thrillers sell very well.” She paused but then added, “I’m working at the bookstore in the late afternoon and at night, but it won’t interfere with any assignments you give me. I go to work and go home.”
Great. Now she sounded like a nerd with no life. Which was true. “I have a dog, Watson. He’s a cocker mix rescue. And I don’t know why I told you that.”
Now Lilly smiled. “If I were to guess, you didn’t want to look pathetic for not having a social life.
Believe me, I understand. I work in my office most days for at least eight hours.
And when I go on a book tour, it’s mostly one bookstore after another.
I have to make sure I know what city I’m in before I go onstage.
Then I come home and start the next book. It’s a hamster wheel life.”
“You still love writing, though?” Meg asked.
“That’s what keeps me going. When I get done and read the whole thing, front to back, I’m always amazed at what I created.
” She stared at Meg for a long second. Then she handed Meg a folder.
“I think you’ll do. My attorney sent a tax form, a contract, and a nondisclosure form for you to sign.
There’s an envelope for you to mail the papers off to him once you sign.
You’ll get paid once a week for twenty hours unless I call my accountant and add more.
It depends on what I need. But you’ll always get the minimum.
It’s all in your contract. And your first assignment is in the front. ”
Meg opened the folder. “You want fifty choices of synonyms for the ten words listed below? Like restaurant ? And murder ?”
Lilly stood and reached out her hand. “Exactly. Can you drop that off on Thursday? Then I’ll have another assignment. Just let me know if the assignment is taking more than twenty hours. Being creative sometimes is time-consuming. Welcome to the team.”
She ended the interview by walking toward a second doorway opposite the one that led to the foyer. “Jolene will show you out. Give her a bottle of water for the road, will you?”
Meg turned toward the entrance where she’d come in, and a short woman with dark hair in a suit stood there, watching her. Jolene walked over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of water. “Can I get you a snack for the road?”
Meg stood and hurried over to Jolene. Shaking her head, she took the water and said, “This is great. Thanks. Hey, do you know what time Lilly—I mean, Ms. Aster—wants the assignment back on Thursday? I didn’t have time to ask.”
“I’d say early. She’ll probably have your next task ready by seven.
But you’ll meet with me. Ms. Aster is a very busy woman.
She writes in her office for hours.” Jolene opened the oversized door to the outside and waited for Meg to walk through.
“Just push the buzzer and I’ll come get it when you arrive. ”
As Meg rode back to the apartment to drop off her bike and then walked to the bookstore to pick up Watson, she thought about her new job.
Meeting Lilly Aster had been amazing, but the assignment?
It was less than what she’d expected. Maybe this was a test. The good news was that being an author’s assistant paid well.
Even with the twenty hours a week, Meg would be able to save enough money that by the end of the summer, she would be able to go back to college and earn her BA. Now she needed to figure out that plan.
She had four years before she turned thirty, and she wanted to be on her way to a real career by then. Thirty wasn’t a bad age to start your life. Again. She pushed harder on the bike pedals to climb the small hill in front of her.
One step at a time. One hill at a time. And she’d completed a giant step today. Several, in fact, since she’d left Seattle. She was on her way. Now she needed to figure out where exactly she was heading.
* * *
Dalton was at the bookstore when she got there. She glanced at her watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“This is my ‘weekend’ this week. Today and tomorrow. A bunch of us are going to Point White Beach for a bonfire tonight. We can take the mutt. You haven’t been around in a few years.
You need to meet some people your age. That don’t dress like they’re ninety years old.
” He picked up a new release and scanned the back cover.
“I need this, too. Two birds, one stone.”
“Is that a jab at my former fiancé?” Meg took the book from him and went behind the counter. “I don’t know. I’ve got an assignment for my other job.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (Reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
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- Page 33
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- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46