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Don’t expect professionals to take you seriously. Prove them wrong.

T he next morning, as she rode her bike to switch out her assignment folders, the roads up to Lilly Aster’s house were packed with cars.

When Meg got closer, she saw why. News vans lined Summer Break’s circular driveway, and a bunch of men in black uniforms blocked the entrance to the house.

Meg left her bike by the side of the driveway and pushed her way through the crowd of journalists.

When she got to the security line, she tapped on the crossed arms of the very muscular guard who was staring over her head.

“Hi. I’m Meg Gates, and I work for Ms. Aster. I was supposed to check in this morning.”

He looked down at her, and she held up a folder.

“You can search me. I have my phone in my backpack, but that’s it. Well, my wallet and a few pens, but I left Watson at home. I didn’t know what to expect when I got here.” She rattled off more than the guard needed to know.

“Who’s Watson?” At least now he was looking at her.

“He’s my dog. He’s a cocker spaniel. Of course, he could be a mix, since I got him at the shelter, but he looks like a purebred. I think someone dumped him as a pup.” Meg rambled when she was nervous.

A smile teased the man’s lips. “Hold on a second.”

He leaned into a small microphone on his black blazer. “I have someone here who says she works for Ms. Aster. A Meg Gates?”

Meg couldn’t hear the response, but all of a sudden, he lifted the caution tape the police had stretched across the steps.

“Go on in. Jolene is expecting you.” He smiled now since his face was turned away from the news crowd. “I wish you’d brought Watson. I have a Golden Doodle at home named Roger. He’s a card.”

Meg heard the reporters yelling after her.

“Who’s that?”

“Did she have something to do with the murder?”

“Is that his daughter?”

Had the man they’d found been murdered? She’d thought it was an accident. Meg hurried up the stairs and knocked on the door.

Jolene opened it a crack, then saw it was her and pulled her inside. “I didn’t know if you would come today. It’s been a zoo here. But Lilly said you’d come. She had a feeling, and I guess she was right. Is that the completed assignment?”

Meg looked down at the folder in her hand. “Yes. I followed your instructions and kept track of my hours on the front of the folder.”

“Great. I’m sure you won’t misrepresent your time, but it makes me feel better.” She took the folder and opened it. She was still reviewing the work when she asked, “Have you mailed off the paperwork to the attorney?”

“I dropped it at the post office yesterday, when I was in town. What happened here?” She looked around the foyer. “Someone fell off the dock?”

“Well, I found someone on the beach. The problem is the cops and vultures want to make it into something it’s not.

Lilly’s quite upset, and strong emotions affect her writing.

” Jolene took the other folder off the table and handed it to Meg.

“Here’s the next assignment. She wants you to find thirty to a hundred places in the Santa Barbara area in which to hide a body.

Real places, not in a generic flower bed or on a beach. ”

Meg nodded, not bothering to open the folder or check the assignment inside. Not the fun or even challenging assignment she’d hoped for. Maybe this was all a test. Lilly must need to know what she was capable of doing. Without complaining. “And when is it due?”

“Tuesday. You’ll mostly be returning assignments on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Those are Lilly’s research days. Thank you for coming.” Jolene paused and stared at Meg. Clearly, she’d forgotten her name.

“Meg. Meg Gates.”

“Jolene, someone’s at the back door. Can you make sure it’s locked? Please?” Lilly Aster stood at the top of the grand staircase, looking down. She wore what looked like silk pajamas, and her hair was mussed.

“Of course, Ms. Aster.” She opened the door and gently pushed Meg outside.

Meg stuffed the folder into her backpack before turning around and facing the crowd. As she headed toward the spot where the guard had let her cross under the caution tape, reporters pelted her with questions.

“What were you doing at the Aster house?”

“Do you know Ms. Aster?”

“Did you know the man she killed?”

At this question, she glanced up. She felt the shock on her face. But then the guard who had let her in took her arm and led her through the crowd. “Don’t react to them. It will feed the frenzy. Where’s your car?”

“Bike,” she responded, keeping her head down. She pointed to where she’d left it. “It’s over on the side of the driveway.”

He walked her over and stood close as she got on the bike.

The news crews had already forgotten her as someone was looking out a window in the house.

She pedaled out of the driveway and headed down the hill toward Winslow.

No one seemed to notice her leaving. That happened in Seattle, too.

If you were on your bike, you were invisible.

So much so that an inattentive driver had hit several of her friends who biked to get around.

Today there were no cars on the road, which wasn’t unusual for this area of Bainbridge Island.

But instead of it being a slow day, Meg thought all the cars were probably parked at Summer Break.

* * *

At the bookstore, the gossip was all about the man who had been found on the beach.

“I bet it was Aster’s ex-husband,” Meg’s mom guessed.

“He’s been showing up on the island the past few months.

Sally said she saw them eating dinner together at the pub the last time he was here, and Lilly wasn’t happy to see him. Rumor is he came back for more money.”

“Now, Felicia, you know you can’t get your news from Sally.

That woman makes up half of what she talks about.

Troy says that the department is hosting a press conference to release the information tomorrow morning, after the next of kin has been informed.

He’s pulling out his dress uniform tonight for the cameras.

I hope it still fits.” Aunt Melody sipped her tea.

“So, Meg, how are you liking working for Lilly? Did you hear anything when you were up at the house this morning?”

“How did you know I was at the house?” Meg took Watson’s leash off, and he went straight to the dog bed under the counter.

“You were on television, dear. Walking up the stairs. The announcer called you an unknown visitor. At first, all I saw was your back. And your curly hair. On your way out of the house I could see your face. You looked stressed. You look much better now.”

“I wasn’t stressed, except for all the people yelling at me.

Like I’d know anything.” Meg poured herself a cup of coffee as she settled in for her shift.

Usually, her mom left as soon as Meg walked in, but tonight the sisters were going out to dinner.

It was a weekly event, designed to help them keep in touch, even though they lived less than three blocks from each other.

Meg thought it was cute. She sat down at the table where they had gathered.

“I don’t know anything more than you two do.

I don’t think Lilly Aster had anything to do with the man’s death, though. There’s no way.”

Aunt Melody sniffed. “I agree with you, but I’m worried.

Troy won’t tell me anything, but I heard they are bringing her in for questioning tomorrow afternoon.

They don’t do that unless they think you’re a suspect.

Sorry about your job and getting you involved in all of this.

Oh, and your uncle said to stay away from his crime scene. ”

“There’s no way Lilly Aster killed anyone .

. . outside her books, that is.” Meg thought about the woman she’d met this week.

She was smart, self-assured, and was definitely not a murderer.

Besides, Meg had started her own book last night.

A “how to be a detective without the badge” guide.

Working for Lilly Aster, or L. C. Aster, the queen of mysteries, would add substance to her proposal.

If she worked for her for only a week, that would ruin any street cred she might obtain.

It wasn’t like she wanted to have the same agent as Lilly Aster; that man was horrible.

But maybe Lilly knew some other, nicer agent who would take her and the book on.

This was one project she wasn’t going to fail at.

Unless she did. Or Lilly Aster went to prison.

She watched as her mom and aunt gathered their things to walk the two blocks to the restaurant where they had a standing six-thirty reservation.

Her mom kissed her as she pulled on her jacket. “There’s a list of things on the counter that need to be done. Don’t worry about the job with Ms. Aster, dear. If she goes to jail, we’ll find you another job.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” Meg hugged them both, then went to the counter once they were out the door.

Watson snored in the corner. She read over the list, then pulled out her laptop and scanned the local news for any stories about the body.

There was a video of her walking out of Summer Break, her backpack clutched tightly to her chest.

“There’s my fifteen minutes of fame, Watson. And my life is over. Again.”

Watson snored louder. Apparently, he didn’t care.

The bell rang over the door, and Natasha came in with a box from her bakery. “I figured you needed some sugar after your day. Did she kill the guy?”

“No, she didn’t—” Meg’s denial was interrupted when Dalton followed Natasha inside the bookstore. “Dalton, I didn’t expect you.”

“I’m checking in. I heard Aster’s going to jail. What’s going to happen with your job?” Dalton greeted Natasha and opened the box. “Apple turnovers?”

“Of course.” Natasha sat the box on the table that Meg’s mom and aunt had just deserted and went to the back. “Is it too late for coffee?”

“Mom made a fresh batch before she left. And Lilly’s not going to jail.” Meg felt like she was trying to corral cats. She grabbed the notebook she always carried and took it and her cup back to the table. The list could wait. “So what has everyone heard?”

After they all had drinks and were eating the turnovers, they talked about all the rumors they’d heard around the island. By the time they’d finished, Meg had a whole sheet of notes. “So did anyone see Lilly Aster’s ex-husband on the ferry yesterday?”

Meg and Natasha both looked at Dalton.

“I was off yesterday, remember?” He pulled out his notebook from a coat pocket. “I can ask, though. And maybe look at the logs. Cissy, the girl at the ticket counter, writes down any celebrities that she sees buying tickets or getting on or off.”

“And, of course, you two are good friends,” Natasha teased.

Dalton turned a little red as he answered, “We talk sometimes. I’m not dating her.”

Meg saw the look he gave her, then glanced back at her notes. “Would she recognize Lilly’s agent, Robert Meade? He was there Tuesday and didn’t look happy. On the ferry I heard him talking about stealing money from someone. Maybe Lilly found out he was skimming.”

“Which makes her a suspect again,” Natasha pointed out. “I thought you were trying to keep your job?”

“Best-case scenario, it was a random tourist who got lost and fell off the dock. I guess we won’t know that until Uncle Troy gives his press conference tomorrow morning.” Meg leaned back, thinking about the list of tasks her mom had left.

“Or you could ask him if you see him at home. What time do you get off?” Natasha asked.

“Nine. I could stop by the house. Aunt Melody might still be out with Mom, though. And Uncle Troy isn’t going to leave confidential police information lying around for me to find.

I thought we were grabbing dinner.” She stood and refilled her cup.

“Anyway, I need to get busy. Mom won’t be happy if I don’t finish her list.”

“Fine, kick us out. No dinner for me. I have a big order that came in that I need to work on tonight. Sorry.” Natasha went to the back, put her cup in the sink, and threw away the now-empty box. Dalton had snagged the last turnover and was polishing it off as they said their goodbyes.

Natasha strode quickly toward the door.

“Hold up, Natasha. I’ll walk you home.” He paused at the door and met Meg’s gaze. “I’ll be back at nine to walk you home, too.”

“Not necessary. I know my way back.” She sipped her coffee.

He snorted. “I know you do, but a man was killed on the island. I’m a little freaked out. Let me play good guy to a damsel in distress.”

“Except I’m not one,” Meg reminded him.

His mouth quirked into a smile. “Too bad. I’m still coming back to walk you home. At least until we know who was killed and why. Let me be a Boy Scout, okay?”

“If you want to waste your time, Watson and I will close the shop at nine. If you’re here, you can walk with us as we go home.” Meg headed to the counter to look at her mom’s list again. Dalton waved and left the shop. Meg watched the door for way too long after it closed.

After she got all the books sorted and shelved, she finished the last task on the list, and she still hadn’t had a customer come into the store.

Not even a tourist. The ferries back and forth from Seattle ran until midnight, but the tourists started leaving around five.

Time to go back to Seattle and do other things than wander the island.

Since she didn’t have anything left to do from the list, she pulled out the folder that Jolene had given her.

Inside was the new assignment. She checked the time and wrote it and the date down on the front of the folder.

She also wrote the time she had left home to pick up the folder.

She hoped Mom and Lilly wouldn’t compare her work hours.

But Mom didn’t care if she read while on the job at the bookstore, so she guessed that she wouldn’t care if she did work for someone else there.

Satisfied with that logic, she pulled up a map of Santa Barbara on her laptop and started thinking about murder.