Page 29 of Death of a Grill Master

“But you left.”

“Yeah. I needed space. I took the dinghy to shore.” She looked up. “But he was alive when I left. I swear. I’d never seen him so angry. If I’d known that would be the last time I saw him, I never would have left in such a huff.”

She wiped her eyes with a tissue, not a single tear actually falling. Hayley wondered how she had so quickly gotten her eyes to appear so red and puffy before answering the door.

“I made mistakes,” she continued. “Chase being one of them. But I loved Hank. That big lug. He was my world. Life with him was never boring.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Kylie’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

She reached for it. “Sorry, one sec.” She stood and stepped just out of the room, still visible through the doorway. “Hello? Yes. This is she.”

Her voice changed. The softness disappeared. Her tone sharpened like a knife.

“What do you mean we can’t liquidate for at least sixty days? No, the restaurant’s closed this week. But if we could start getting numbers on the retail side, the bottled sauce, projected Q-four revenue … Look, I need this to move faster. There’s no point letting things sit—he would’ve wanted me to be practical.”

She glanced into the living room and caught Hayley watching her, then quickly turned away and lowered her voice.

When she reentered, her face was flushed, and her voice trembled again. “Ugh. Just … paperwork. Lawyers. So much to deal with. I don’t even know where to start.” She flopped back onto the couch, the overwhelmed widow persona fully reengaged.

Hayley said nothing. She just nodded slowly.

“I don’t even know what’s next for me,” Kylie murmured. “Everything we built … it was all Hank’s dream. I was just along for the ride.”

“But you had your own life before him.”

She smiled faintly. “Not much of one. He swept me off my feet. Took care of everything. I just … existed.”

Hayley paused. “Why Chase?”

Kylie blinked. “What?”

“If you loved Hank, then why cheat on him with Chase?”

Kylie ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know. Maybe I was lonely. Hank was always busy—ambitious, always on to the next thing. I felt like a toy on a shelf. Something he could ignore when he didn’t feel like playing.”

“And Chase made you feel seen?”

“Chase was attentive. Flirty. There was chemistry. But that’s all it was. Chemistry. Not love.”

Hayley nodded. “And the photos? Any idea who sent them?”

Kylie’s lips twisted. “No. But someone clearly wanted to blow up my marriage. There were a couple women in town—single or divorced—who hated that I was with Hank. Thirty years younger, blond, loud. I get it. But one of them remarried last year, the other moved to Michigan, so …”

“So probably not them.”

“Probably not.”

Hayley watched her. “Do you think Chase killed Hank?”

“No. I know he didn’t. He couldn’t. He loved Hank, too—in his own weird way. And he was blackout drunk. He doesn’t remember anything. But that’s not the same as guilt.”

“You’re worried about the new chief.”

“I’m terrified,” she said. “I think he’s building a case against Chase just so he can wrap this up with a bow. Look like the big, strapping hero coming in to save the day for the small-town yokels.”

Hayley’s brows knit. “Was there anyone else … who might’ve had a reason to hurt Hank? Someone jealous of your marriage?”

Kylie hesitated.