Page 127 of Death of a Grill Master

LEROY’S FAVORITE GRILLED STEAK KABOBS

INGREDIENTS

2 pounds sirloin steak, cut into 1-inch cubes

1 bottle Italian dressing (your favorite brand)

Assorted veggies: bell peppers, red onions, mushrooms, cut into 1-inch pieces

Metal or wooden skewers

Marinate the steak in the Italian dressing for at least 2 hours (up to 8 if you plan ahead).

Thread the meat and veggies onto skewers, alternating for color.

Preheat the grill to medium-high. Cook kabobs for 8–10 minutes, turning occasionally. For medium-rare, aim for 145°F. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving to keep them juicy.

Serve with your favorite side dish—and keep an eye on the dog.

Chapter 40

Hayley had no intention of going back to the police station. And yet, ten minutes after she’d left it, there she was again—turning into the gravel lot behind the Bar Harbor Police Department with a tight jaw and a firmer resolve.

She wasn’t doing Caleb Maddox’s job.

She wasn’t interfering.

She was … nudging.

Inside, the station buzzed with low-level chatter and the hum of fluorescent lights. Maddox was hunched over his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and surrounded by an explosion of paperwork. He didn’t even look up when Hayley stepped in.

“I swear, Powell,” he muttered, “if you’re here to tell me you’ve changed your mind and Peter Baird’s suddenly a misunderstood sweetheart who rescues kittens and composts—”

“He’s a sociopath with a God complex,” Hayley cut in. “But if he’s so proud of killing Hank and drowning Tina, why deny planting the gun in the cooler?”

Maddox finally looked up. “Because it muddies motive. It makes it look like premeditation. If he sticks to passion and revenge, a jury might see him as temporarily unhinged.”

Hayley crossed her arms. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe someone else put that gun in the cooler. Someone who wanted to frame Doug Marsh.”

Maddox stared at her for a long beat. “Unless you’re holding proof, we’re done here.”

She didn’t flinch. “Not yet.”

He pointed a pen at her. “No field trips.”

She smiled sweetly. “I’m going home.”

Which was technically true—if home had a pit stop first.

Liddy was slumped in her rolling chair, one bare foot tucked beneath her as she nursed a bottle of vitamin-enhanced water like it was her final lifeline. Her hair was in a lopsided ponytail, sunglasses perched on her head.

Hayley stepped into her office and gave her a once-over. “Rough night?”

Liddy raised the bottle. “Celebrated a closing with a client. A full cash offer on a property with original linoleum, can you believe it? We hit Side Street Café like it was Mardi Gras, and I woke up with glitter in my bra and a text from someone named ‘Todd (Boat Guy)’.”

Hayley dropped into the chair across from her. “Let me guess—you were also at Doug Marsh’s cocktail party a few weeks back?”

Liddy froze. “Um, no. I mean, why would you think that?”