Dalton leaned over. “That’s Blake Adams. He works over at the marina.”
“He has good taste in music,” Meg responded as she leaned into the chair that Dalton had brought her. Luna was over on the other side of the fire, sitting with a guy but staring at Dalton. “So you aren’t dating anyone?”
Dalton smiled and shook his head. “Nope. I’m spending time with my friend right now. Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“More like trying to figure you out,” Meg admitted. She rubbed her fingers on Watson’s back.
“Good luck with that.” He opened a bottle of water and took a drink. “Is Natasha coming?”
“I don’t know.” Meg glanced around at the people at the bonfire. Natasha had already been here when Meg arrived the last time, but tonight she was nowhere to be found. “I think she’s worried about Robert’s murder. I know she didn’t kill him, and I’m sure Uncle Troy will clear her soon. But that has to be stressful.”
As they spoke, Natasha walked onto the beach from the small parking lot on the north side. She had a cooler in her hand as well as a towel wrapped around her waist.
Meg waved. “Speak of the devil.”
“I’m going to tell her you called her that.” Dalton stood and walked over to Natasha. He took her cooler from her hand.
The man was a gentleman. To her, to Natasha. To everyone. To prove her point, he offered Natasha his chair, which she turned down, spreading the towel next to Meg’s chair instead.
“I brought a cake and wine coolers. We’re celebrating.”
“You had me at cake,” Meg joked. “What are we celebrating?”
“Your uncle called me a few minutes before I closed the bakery. My timeline matches up with the street cameras. And my apartment lights go on right after that. So it’s unlikely I killed Robert Meade. Or at least I’m no longer the most likely suspect. Your uncle doesn’t like being crystal clear on these things. Anyway, I’m taking the call as I’m off his list. And he said I was too short to be a viable suspect, anyway. I guess the neighbor’s cameras caught someone fighting with Meade the night he was killed, but the camera view was almost out of frame.”
“So they don’t know who killed him, but you don’t match the killer’s body type.” Meg hugged her. “That’s the best thing that’s happened today.”
“Besides the whales?” Dalton looked hurt.
“And the cake, especially if it’s chocolate,” Meg added.
“Of course it’s chocolate.” Natasha looked between Meg and Dalton. “Wait, you saw whales? Here in the sound? When?”
By the time they called it a night, Meg was feeling more than a little tired. Maybe it was the wine coolers or the second slice of cake, on top of an amazing dinner. She was waiting for Watson to do his business so they could get on the boat when she heard voices.
“I know something’s wrong,” a woman said to Meg’s left. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
They were walking toward the parking lot to which Dalton had walked Natasha with her now-empty cooler a few minutes ago. Dalton was waiting for them on the boat.
“Just leave it alone. I can’t talk about it,” a male voice answered. “I might be heading to Portland for a few weeks. I’ve got a job lined up, so don’t freak out if I disappear.”
“Sure. Why would I worry about you?” the woman said as they came around the path and saw Meg and Watson.
“Oh, hi, Meg. Heading home?” Violet asked.
“Yeah, tomorrow’s a long day at the bookstore, so I’m getting back.” She glanced down at Watson, who stood next to her. “I like to walk him before he gets on Dalton’s boat and has bad ideas.”
“He’s so cute. I bet he never has bad ideas.” Violet reached down and rubbed Watson’s head.
“Sure. The dog’s perfect,” Nate muttered as he kept walking.
Violet rolled her eyes. “I better go. The king is in a bad mood tonight.”
“It was nice to see you,” Meg called after her. Then she turned and headed back to the beach and Dalton.
When they headed back to the marina, she told Dalton about Nate’s news.
Dalton glanced toward the shore as she told him. “I heard he got fired from Island Diner last week for not showing up. I guess he’s gone through all the employers on the island. Violet needs to dump that loser.”
