“You need to eat more than once a day.” Her mom not so subtly pushed the board closer.
“I went up to drop my work off at Lilly Aster’s, and I actually got to talk to her today.” She made a second sandwich, this time using prosciutto. She felt gleeful about the time she’d spent with Lilly, and wanted to tell someone. “Jolene was at an appointment in Seattle.”
“Lilly works too hard. She’s always writing,” Aunt Melody added. “And now she has to deal with her agent’s death? I told Troy there was no way she pushed Meade into the drink. But with all the trouble she’s had working with him, I couldn’t blame her.”
“What trouble?” Meg asked as she sipped her wine. Then she made another sandwich. Maybe she’d learn something new about the slimy agent.
“She caught him lying about a publisher not wanting her next manuscript. He’d tried to get her to switch publishers, until her editor flew out to Seattle to have lunch with her. Then the real story came out. It’s always good to get both sides of an argument.” Aunt Melody looked away as she added, “The things women put up with in a business situation.”
“You think he was stealing from her?” Meg hoped the answer was no, because that would mean that Lilly had less motive.
“I know he was. The man bragged about it to another agent.” Aunt Melody had been in the literary agent business before she’d married Uncle Troy a few years ago. They’d been high school sweethearts, but when she’d left the island to make her name in New York, he’d stayed behind and made a life here in downtown Bainbridge. When Meg’s parents divorced, Aunt Melody had come home to lend moral support and had fallen back in love with her soulmate. It was a great story. And mostly true.
“Anyway, she’s better off without him. I know her new agent, and she’s a powerhouse. I’m sure Lilly’s going to be so much better off now. Maybe she won’t have to write so much.” Aunt Melody finished her glass.
Nothing was giving Meg any hope that Meade had been killed by someone else. No wonder Uncle Troy saw Lilly Aster as his primary suspect. She would, too. “Who else was a client of Robert Meade?”
“Oh, he had a few big names and lots of little ones. I never knew why he’d take on so many debut authors, but I guess he thought with the numbers, at least one or two would become successful. But then if they didn’t, he’d drop them like a hot potato and sign up more. They were like cogs in a wheel. If they didn’t perform, he didn’t want them on his list.” Aunt Melody closed her eyes. “I would hate to be his webmaster. He had people going up and down monthly, or at least it seemed that way to me.”
“So if I had a book, he’d sign me, then try to sell me. And if I didn’t work out, he’d dump me?” Meg was trying to understand the process.
“Exactly. Now, a lot of agents weed out their client list frequently, but most of us . . .” Aunt Melody smiled at including herself in the group still. “Well, we give new authors a little more time to find their groove. I never took anyone on I didn’t fully believe in at the start. I don’t think Robert even read their books before signing them. Especially if they wrote in a hot genre.”
“I hear cozy fantasy is hot right now. Dwarves and elves drinking tea and solving mysteries,” her mom interjected.
Meg excused herself and took Watson up to the apartment. She needed to shower and think about what her aunt had told her. If another author had been mad at Meade, at least there was a different suspect to bring up to her uncle. But from what her aunt had told her, the suspect pool may be too deep to even see the bottom.
CHAPTER10
Everyone is a suspect....
Dalton showed up at six and took her to dinner at a new-to-her restaurant, the Local Crab. She called it Americana as the offerings felt upscale but home-cooked. As they ate, he told her about his day working at the ferry. “The thing I like the best is I’m always doing something different. If someone calls in, they pull me over to cover. My supervisor says I’ll be up for promotion soon. I’d love to get to captain someday, but that might be me dreaming.”
“So you’ll stay there for your entire career? What about your dreams of joining the service?” Meg asked. When they’d been kids, Dalton had talked about joining the Navy or the Coast Guard, so when she’d heard that he’d taken a job with the ferry system, she’d been surprised.
“I already did four years with the Coast Guard when you were in college.” He smiled as she reacted in surprise. “I guess Junior didn’t mention that.”
“He might have. That period was a little crazy. The folks got divorced right after my senior year of high school, so it kind of messed with my head about home and family,” Meg admitted. “I was too locked up in my pity party surrounding my family not being perfect. No wonder the ferry service jumped on hiring you, with your experience.”
“Not everyone likes jumping from one place to the next,” Dalton pointed out. “I’m more of a ‘stay and grow where I’m planted’ type. I hope I’m going to be able to afford to stay on Bainbridge Island for the rest of my life.” He sipped his overpriced beer. “But it’s getting harder. I bought my little house when I left the service. I thought I’d remodel or buy something bigger later. Now, I could pay off my mortgage and fill my retirement fund if I sold the house. But where would I live?”
“I know my dad’s regretting letting Mom keep both the bookstore building and the family home in the divorce. At the time, it was a fair distribution. Now she’s probably got enough right there to keep her on a cruise ship for life if she wanted that life. But she likes what she does. I walked in on her having a wine and cheese card party with Aunt Melody this afternoon. I think she hired me so she could have more free time.” Meg held up a forkful of the crab-stuffed fish she’d ordered. “I have to say, this is good.”
“The chef is out of Los Angeles . . . Emmett Harding. He wanted a slower lifestyle, so he moved here. Now he’s bringing in foodies from all over the Pacific Northwest. We get a locals discount, and he let me call in a favor for tonight’s reservations.”
“You know the chef?” She smiled as she leaned back and looked around the cozy restaurant. “Only on Bainbridge.”
“Emmett is taking sailing lessons from me. He bought a sweet boat last summer. We’ll have to go out on it one night.” Dalton smiled as he cut another piece of his steak. “He lets me borrow it because he knows I won’t mess it up.”
“My favorite sailor is in the house,” said a man at the side of the table. Meg hadn’t seen him walk up. “And this is the woman you called in a favor for? I have to say, I approve.”
“Emmett, this is my friend Meg Gates. She’s a local, but she moved back from Seattle after seeing the error of her ways. Meg, this is Chef Emmett. Two Michelin stars, if I’m correct?”
“My restaurant’s glory, not my own,” Emmett replied, demurring to the compliment. “Now, the three James Beard Outstanding Chef Awards, those are all mine. Meg, it’s nice to meet you. I hope you won’t be a stranger here at the restaurant. A lot of you locals feel like I’m intruding and bringing in outsiders, who fall in love with the island as much as I did.”
“We are an insulating bunch, but when you’re serving food this good, I’m sure you would be welcome anywhere. They’ll get over it in a decade or so,” Meg teased. It took some time for the locals to accept a new resident. Especially if their business brought in more new residents. Tourists were fine; it was the ones who decided to stay that upset the balance. “I loved my dinner.”
“I’m so glad.” He was looking at the entrance rather than at her. “Sorry. I’ve got a take-out order walking in, and my hostess is confused. We don’t do takeout as a normal process, but I adore Lilly Aster’s books, so what she wants, she gets. We’ll see you tomorrow morning, Dalton?”
