Meg wondered if Nate’s situation was more pressing. The guy hated anyone who seemed to have money or was, in his eyes, not a local. Had he fought with Robert Meade and now felt compelled to leave town? It was a possibility. Of course, anyone who was on the island the day Meade was killed could also fall into that logic.
She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She was chasing zebras. She’d written the rule for her book last week.Hoof sounds are more likely a sign of horses than zebras. Her uncle probably had another suspect besides Lilly Aster now, especially since he’d all but told Natasha that he knew she didn’t kill the guy.
When she got home, the lights were off at the main house. Not the time to go banging on the door to ask who was next on Uncle Troy’s list of suspects. Or even to tell him that she had a “feeling” that Nate was a killer. Besides, did she even know Nate’s last name? Nate, the guy who hung out at the bonfires and dated Violet. She didn’t think that kind of evidence would clear Lilly Aster.
She took Watson for one more short walk around the property after Dalton dropped them off. As she waited for him to finish, she saw a light turn on in the main house. Then it went off.
Probably Uncle Troy or Aunt Melody in the kitchen to grab a drink. They wouldn’t be watching for her to come home, would they?
Meg and Watson climbed the stairs to the apartment and then headed to bed. Tomorrow was almost here, and she had a job she liked to go to.
As she lay in bed, she thought about her night. Dalton and the whales. Then seeing Natasha at the bonfire, eating the to-die-for cake, and knowing her friend was happy. Maybe coming home hadn’t been such a bad idea.
* * *
The ringing phone woke her the next morning at eight. Sunlight streamed into the bedroom, and Watson was curled up next to her. He growled lightly when she turned to grab her phone. “Hello?”
“Oh, I didn’t wake you, did I? I wanted to let you know that your mom is coming over to have breakfast with me, and I didn’t want her to find you in bed. Especially since you had a late night.” Aunt Melody was too bright and chipper for this time of the morning.
Meg slid her legs off the bed. “I was getting up.”
“Perfect. Then come over and eat with us. I’m making omelets. I got some mushrooms at the farmers market on Saturday that I need to use up. I always buy too much produce there.”
After hanging up with her aunt, she checked on Watson, who looked perfectly comfortable, clearly conveying that he wished to sleep for a while longer while Meg showered. It was a good thing they didn’t go to the bonfires every week.
She clicked on Watson’s leash and headed down to the backyard as soon as she heard her mom’s car pull up. Thank goodness for her aunt’s warning shot. She was a grown woman, but still, she didn’t want her mom griping about her sleeping habits, especially since she’d been out late with Dalton. Bainbridge was a small town.
Inside the gate, Meg let Watson off the lead, and he went to his favorite couch on the porch. She lightly knocked on the patio door and heard Aunt Melody call out for her to come in. When she entered the kitchen, the orange juice and coffee had already been poured.
“This looks amazing.”
“I figured you’d like a home-cooked meal. You’ve been eating out a lot.” Aunt Melody winked at her. “How was dinner with Dalton yesterday?”
“We saw whales from the patio.” Meg slipped into her chair and sipped her coffee. She needed to change the subject.
Mom stared at her from her spot at the table. “Have you taken the time to talk to Romain since he’s been back? I think you should—”
“Felicia, let the girl be. What you want for Meg is for her to be happy. Romain messed up that version of life. Now she has to find a new path.” Aunt Melody sat down and put a napkin on her lap. “Now, let’s share food and gossip. What have you heard about who killed Robert Meade? Troy has been unusually tight-lipped about this investigation. I’m worried that he truly thinks Lilly might be involved.”
Meg listened as her aunt and mom talked about the current investigation and what people around town were saying. Meg had to agree with her aunt. From what she knew, Lilly Aster was the most likely suspect, even if she and Aunt Melody knew that the woman wouldn’t have done this. Now that she had Natasha mostly cleared of any wrongdoing, it was time to make sure Lilly was off Uncle Troy’s suspect list. And someone else was on it.
CHAPTER19
Changing your plan midstream isn’t failing. It just feels like it is.
Meg glanced around the empty bookstore Wednesday night and pulled out her laptop. At breakfast her mom had asked her to work another shift. The good news was she didn’t have anything else to do. So she’d said yes.
She’d finished all the tasks on her mom’s list for the day. She’d even made a sign for a counter display announcing L. C. Aster’s newest signed book. Her mother needed to add more Pacific Northwest authors to her signed collection. Maybe Meg should focus on writing a proposal that included a list of possible in-person signing events. Her mom was paying her to be here. She might as well find a way to bring in more customers. And a writing group. And maybe a book club? The island had enough full-time residents to fill a weekly event night. Maybe that would give the area’s singles, like Luna and, yes, Irene, a place to meet up that wasn’t church or the bonfire. Heaven, hell, or a book club—all meet cute starts for couples in romance novels.
Instead, she decided to work on Lilly’s next assignment. A list of mystery bookstores in the United States. She decided to make the country an autofill cell that she could change if she found new bookstores. That way, Lilly—or more likely Jolene, or whoever she hired to set up the book launch events—could sort by location.
For a second, she realized that person might be her. Meg liked the idea of working full-time for Lilly. If she could figure out the benefits part. Maybe Lilly paid for health insurance for her employees. She needed to stop putting up walls to block her dreams. She could deal with the specifics if the dream came true.
She continued configuring the Excel sheet to fit the needs of a writer or assistant. Thank goodness for the classes in computer programs she’d taken at the start-up. She didn’t know how to code, but at least she knew how the different office programs worked.
Setting a system up took longer than she’d expected, and suddenly, her stomach was growling. She hadn’t had a customer in over three hours, but she had a workable spreadsheet into which she could start inputting data.
First, she needed food. Neither Natasha nor Dalton had shown up with dinner, so she called in a delivery order for Chinese food. Then she fed Watson and, after locking the front door, took him for a short walk. They made it back before the food arrived, and when it did, she sat on the couch and ate.
