Page 24 of Death of a Grill Master

Nurse Tilly was Donnie’s girlfriend.

It sounded as if Donnie had just been fired.

“Donnie?” Hayley said softly.

He looked up, startled, then immediately got up and rushed into the men’s room without a word.

Hayley blinked.

Something was wrong.

She moved down the hall and knocked once on the open door of the police chief’s office—Sergio’s office. “Sergio? I just saw Donnie and—”

She stepped inside—and stopped dead.

It wasn’t Sergio.

It was him.

The Masshole.

Sitting at the desk.

Sergio’s desk.

In a crisp navy suit with a pocket square. No sunglasses now, just sharp eyes and sharper posture.

“What are you doing here?” Hayley asked.

The man rose. “I’m Caleb Maddox. The new chief of police.”

Hayley stared. “You’re what?”

“Surprised?” he asked, Boston accent cutting through every syllable.

“Uh, yes. Sergio just announced his resignation yesterday. You don’t just swap police chiefs like light bulbs.”

“The town council’s known for months,” he said, moving to close the office door behind her. “I was recruited a while ago. Sergio stayed on to ease the transition.”

“But he just threw a going-away party!”

“Timing’s a funny thing.”

Hayley narrowed her eyes. “You texted Earl. You’re the ‘chief’ who wanted to see me?”

“That’s right.”

She folded her arms. “Why?”

He walked back behind the desk, sat down again, and steepled his fingers. “I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh?”

“Hayley Powell. Food columnist, part-time restaurateur, full-time busybody.”

Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“I’m here to make one thing very clear: your habit of interfering in police investigations? That ends now.”