Page 11 of Death of a Grill Master

“Hayley!” Mona called, breathless.

She and Earl jogged down the incline from the bluff, both of them dressed in their end-of-summer best—Mona in a navy linen shirt and jeans, Earl still in his off-duty Bar Harbor PD T-shirt.

Hayley stared at the body, the reality finally sinking in. “I always thought Hank would go out flipping a steak,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not like this.”

Mona folded her arms, eyes fixed on the scene. “Guess the Grill Master finally burned out.”

Earl approached Sergio and tipped his chin. “Need help keeping the crowd back, Chief? I’m off duty, but I can clear the line if you want.”

Sergio nodded without looking up. “Appreciate it.”

“Happy to help.” Earl jogged off, calling up to a few teenagers who had started filming on their phones.

Sergio stood and turned to Mona. “I need to get out there,” he said, gesturing toward the harbor.

Hayley followed his gaze. Out in the bay, barely visible in the moonlight, was a midsized boat anchored off the pier.

The Slaughterhouse.

Hank’s pride and joy.

A grilling shrine on the water, complete with smoker, minibar, custom stainless-steel grill, and surround-sound Bluetooth speakers that usually played Southern rock at punishing decibels.

“That where he was grilling tonight?” Bruce asked quietly.

Sergio nodded. “Probably. But how did he end up here?”

“Drifted in with the tide?” Hayley offered.

“Maybe,” Sergio muttered. “I need to see what’s on that boat.”

“I can take you,” Mona said.

Sergio turned. “You sure?”

“She’s fueled and ready. Let’s go.”

Hayley opened her mouth to volunteer, but Bruce grabbed her hand first. “We’re coming, too,” he said.

Sergio gave them a look.

Not angry.

Just tired.

Surprisingly, he didn’t object.

A growing crowd had formed along the pier—neighbors, tourists, and local restaurant workers who’d wrapped up their shifts and caught wind of the drama. Voices rose: “Who is it?” “Was it a drowning?” “No, I heard a gunshot.” “It’s Hank Desmond, I swear. The Grill Master.”

Gasps spread like ripples in a pond.

Someone sobbed.

At the dock, Mona climbed aboard her lobster boat and started the engine. Hayley and Bruce stepped aboard and helped Sergio as he untied the lines. The motor rumbled to life, a deep, steady thrum that cut through the night.

Before they could push off, Earl appeared with someone wrapped in a shock blanket.

Kylie.