Natasha caught Meg’s gaze as they cleared cups off the table. “Does that answer your earlier question?”
“Stop it.” Meg lowered her voice. “Let’s focus on who killed Robert Meade, so Uncle Troy doesn’t throw you in jail to get the case off his open list.”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Natasha followed her into the break room, where they put the cups in the dishwasher and Meg started it. “Right? Tell me you’re joking. Your uncle isn’t going to charge me with killing Robert, is he?”
Dalton came in from the back and locked the door behind him. “She’s joking. If he was going to charge you, he would have held you in jail for seventy-two hours, while he made his case against you and got the DA to sign off.”
Natasha looked stricken at the idea of spending time in a jail cell.
Dalton pulled her into a hug as he laughed. “Come on. Let’s go home. We’ll all meet at the bakery tomorrow at nine to figure out how to prove this long shot. At least enough for Meg’s uncle to take over. Right now, I think he’d laugh us out of his office.”
“Sometimes you have a mean streak, Dalton Hamilton. And don’t think I don’t see it.” Natasha followed him out into the shop while Meg turned off the lights.
* * *
The next morning, the knock came right at eight thirty. Meg was used to Dalton being early, so last night she’d set her alarm for seven, which had given her time to be dressed and ready before he surprised her. She filled his cup with coffee and then went to answer the door.
Romain Evans stood there. He wore his typical weekend casual outfit. Dockers, a polo, and a light blazer on top. He wore old brown wingtip shoes. Dalton was right. Romain dressed like an old man. “Good morning, Meg. May I come in?”
“No, you can’t. I don’t invite evil into my house. It’s kind of a new rule. Why are you here, Romain? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.” She set the cup on the table next to the door and leaned on the doorway, blocking the entrance.
He stepped back, surprised. He’d moved toward the threshold, thinking he was coming inside, but now he looked unsure. For the first time in the years that she’d known him, he appeared utterly flummoxed.
It made Meg happy that she’d stunned him. When he didn’t speak, she asked again. “Why are you here?”
“I was wondering if you’d sold the ring yet. I wanted to ask for it back.” The words fell out of Romain’s mouth quickly.
Meg stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Rachel, she loves the ring. I’m going to ask her to marry me, so I wanted to know if I could have it back. I’ll give you money for it. Not what we paid for it, of course, but I need the ring back. Rachel doesn’t know I returned it to you.”
“I’m confused.” Meg reached over to her desk, where his note still sat. She lifted it and held it out for him to see. “This says you felt bad for what you did, so you gave me a hundred dollars from our travel cash and the ring to try to make up for it. Now you’re telling me you want my ring so you can use it to marry the woman you already took on my honeymoon? Am I understanding the sequence of events?”
He blinked. Obviously, he hadn’t expected any response besides Meg giving him the ring back.
Meg’s gaze traveled past Romain, and she saw Dalton standing at the corner of the garage. He was leaning on Romain’s Tesla and grinning at the exchange. She shook her head.
“No, you cannot have my ring, even if you want to pay me twice what we paid for it. That ismyring. The one with which you pledged your undying love for me. Besides, if you wanted to give it to Rachel, why did you bring it to me? I’d left it for you. In your tuxedo. The one I helped you pick out for our wedding.” Now Meg was curious. She didn’t feel mad so much as tired of the games. “I did the right thing once. Then you did. I think we’re done.”
“Rachel and I got in a huge fight in Italy. I guess I kept complimenting you on the hotel and the plans you made for us. She thought it was rubbing our relationship in her face. So she left a day early and flew back. I thought it was over. When I came back and found you’d left, I wanted to talk you into coming home. Giving you the ring felt right.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Then you made up with Rachel.”
“And she doesn’t know I tried to get back with you. If she did, she’d flip out again.” He shook his head. “She’s very intimidated by you.”
“As she should be,” Dalton commented from the bottom of the stairs. He was still leaning on Romain’s new car. “Meg’s an amazing woman. Too good for the likes of you.”
Romain whipped his head around to glare at Dalton. “Stay out of this.”
“I’m just watching the show,” Dalton replied, holding up his hands. “Nice car.”
“Stop leaning on it,” Romain grumbled.
Meg moved to close the door. “Goodbye, Romain. Have a great life with Rachel, until she finds someone better. Which shouldn’t be long.”
Romain leaned forward. “Meg, come on. Be reasonable. Sell me the ring.”
“I’d love to, but I threw it in the sound the day you gave it to me,” Meg lied.
