Page 30 of Death of a Grill Master

“There was someone,” she said softly. “Zane. He owns that scuba dive shop near the wharf.”

Hayley’s ears perked. “The one who takes tourists out diving past Bar Island?”

“We dated. Briefly. Before Hank. When I first came to Bar Harbor.”

“What happened?”

“He got … possessive. Controlling. Would show up at my work. Follow me. He didn’t take it well when I ended things. I thought I spotted his boat in the harbor the night of the fireworks, but I’m not sure.” She glanced out the window. “I wouldn’t put anything past him.” But her voice trembled—not with anger. With something closer to fear.

Hayley sat back, letting it all sink in. Zane. A dive shop. A man with access to the water … and the kind of experience that could make him invisible in it.

“Thanks for talking to me, Kylie.”

Kylie gave a slight smile. “Better you than the walls.”

Hayley nodded slowly, heading toward the door. She wanted to believe Kylie. She really did. But something about her—maybe all of it—just didn’t sit right.

Not yet, anyway.

Chapter 11

Zane’s Coastal Dives occupied a squat, shingled building that jutted out over the water. The sign above the door was shaped like a scuba tank, though the paint was faded and chipped from too many salty summers. A plastic skeleton in flippers lounged in a beach chair out front, sunglasses askew, holding a LESSONS AVAILABLE! sign.

Hayley pushed open the screen door, which let out a dramatic squeak, and immediately heard the slosh of water and someone singing—badly—to “Under the Sea” from The Little Mermaid.

How perfect.

A moment later, Zane himself emerged from a side room, dragging a dripping wet suit and flashing his trademark toothy grin.

“Well, if it isn’t Bar Harbor’s own Jessica Fletcher,” he said, wiping his hands on his board shorts. “Come to learn the art of underwater espionage?”

Hayley gave him a bright smile, only slightly forced. “Not today. Just thought I’d pop in and see how business was going.”

“Booming,” he said without hesitation. “Tourists eat this stuff up. I had an awesome season. Speaking of which—have you and your husband ever thought about getting your scuba certification together? We’ve got a couples package. Weekends. Includes gear rental, two tank dives, and I throw in a free underwater GoPro session. Memories for a lifetime.”

“I’ll run it by Bruce,” Hayley said sweetly. “But actually, I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”

Zane’s posture shifted. Not defensive. Just … bracing.

“About what?”

“Hank Desmond.”

He snorted. “Of course. Figured that was coming.”

Hayley leaned casually on a display of waterproof phone cases. “You were in the harbor near Hank’s boat the night of the fireworks, weren’t you?”

Zane narrowed his eyes. “Who told you that?”

Hayley hesitated. “Kylie thought she saw you in the area.”

Zane laughed—short, but not amused. “Yeah? Well, she’s full of it. I was on my own boat, watching the fireworks, smoking a little weed. Minding my own business. Didn’t go anywhere near the Slaughterhouse.”

“But you were close,” Hayley said smoothly. “Close enough to enjoy the view. Maybe hear something.”

He eyed her, then relented. “Fine. I was in the general vicinity. Doesn’t mean I had anything to do with Hank’s murder.”

“No, but it does mean you were nearby when it happened.”