Meg tucked the college entrance information books back into her tote and stood. “Thank you for fitting me in, Professor.”
The older man with salt-and-pepper hair stood to walk her the few feet out of his office. He wore jeans with a tweed jacket over an old rock band T-shirt. Meg had heard that they kept the air down to seventy degrees so the professors could wear suits, which caused the students who showed up in shorts and tanks to freeze during classes. Maybe it was to keep them awake. “I meant it when I said it’s nice to have you back. You were one of my favorites.”
As she left the building, Meg took a deep breath of the cool air. The rain had stopped, and the campus looked like a sparkling jewel. The grass and shrubs gleamed, their wet leaves picking up the sunlight.
Being on campus always felt like existing in another world. A world where you could try out new things, figure out what you wanted to do with the rest of your life, and read all the books that helped you transition into the journey of adulthood.
Now Meg wanted to earn her degree and to finally have a career that she could count on. Maybe she should have picked a business major with an English minor. But she wasn’t sure she could pass the math classes. She’d been the failure-to-thrive child way too long for even her comfort level.
Meg Gates, private investigator. Or maybe she needed a different title. She didn’t want people to think she was the one to contact to find out if their husband was cheating. She wanted big cases. And if she solved Meade’s murder for her first case, that might even happen.
She and Watson headed home, but not before stopping at the Hungry Onion. It was an old fifties hamburger joint that still had you park your car and wait for your waitress to come to you. The place was a college hangout. It hadn’t been remodeled or changed in years, but the food was amazing. Especially the vanilla milkshakes.
As she waited for her cheeseburger and onion rings, her phone buzzed with a text.
Want to hit the bonfire tonight?
She checked the sender line. Dalton. He was talking to her again. But he hadn’t responded to the text in which she’d asked him about the picture of Emmett’s boat registration. He was good at ignoring things.
Fine. Two could play that game. She was about to respond when her food came. She sipped her milkshake as she looked at the text. Finally, she texted back.
Where should we meet?
I’ll pick you up at six for dinner. Bring the mutt.
She looked over at Watson, who was staring at her uneaten onion rings. “Dalton called you a mutt. You should bite him tonight.”
Watson looked up at her with full-blown desire in his gaze. He wanted to bite her cheeseburger instead.
She ripped off a bit of the bun that didn’t have any sauce on it and gave it to him. “That’s about all you can eat from this order. Sorry.”
As they prepared to go home, Meg didn’t think Watson believed she was sorry. Especially when she got out and threw away the sack with her leftovers. Back in the car, he barked twice at her to show his dismay before lying down in the seat, his back toward her.
Yep, she was getting the silent treatment. She turned up the old rock station that her dad had hooked her on years ago. Dad had wanted to be the next indie rock star. A member of the Seattle grunge royalty. Instead, he’d gotten married and had two kids. Then a successful accounting career and, finally, owning his own business.
And even now, on most weekends you’d find him not on a golf course but in his garage, playing guitar and writing songs.
Meg didn’t want that to be her life. She wanted to live her dreams. And if she failed again? At least it would be fast and painless. Not like the failed marriage that had tried to domesticate her father from rocker to family man.
CHAPTER18
A good investigator sees the details that others blow off.
The evening was already chilly, so Meg packed a pair of jeans and a hoodie in Watson’s backpack. She’d have to find a clump of trees to change from the capris into jeans, or she’d put the oversized hoodie on first while switching into warmer clothes. Of course, she’d probably have to roll up her jeans in order to wade out to the boat. Just the price you paid to play on the water.
Dalton grabbed the backpack as soon as he came to get them. With Watson in tow, they made their way down the stairs and into the truck.
“So how was your day? Did you get a new assignment from Ms. Aster?” Dalton asked as he drove away.
She talked about the new assignment and her trip to the campus to get set up for classes.
“I didn’t realize you were thinking about going back.” Dalton glanced over at her from the driver’s seat. “That must be exciting.”
“I have to say I’m looking forward to it.” She grinned as they parked in the town lot. “Remind me that I said this in about a year, when I’m tired of doing homework around my two jobs.”
“You’ll do fine. I think sometimes it takes people time to figure out what they want to do.” He parked the truck, pausing the conversation as she got out of the truck and lifted Watson out. “You do know what you want to do, right?”
“Kind of. It’s a work in progress,” Meg admitted. She waited for him to remote-lock the truck. “Should I have grabbed Watson’s backpack?”
