Page 38 of Death of a Grill Master

“Bit of both,” she muttered.

He set down the groceries and walked over to examine the map.

“Are those tide calculations?”

“Yes. And current speeds. Also distance markers.”

“Okay, that’s alarming.”

Hayley looked up at him. “I can’t let this go, Bruce. I know I’m driving myself crazy. But it’s like every time I scratch the surface, something new comes up. Zane saw the Larkins argue with the town council. Nancy admitted they were livid with Hank. Hannah had a motive the size of Acadia and the arms to match. Kylie’s trying to act the part of a grieving wife, but it’s clear that Hank’s death is just a minor inconvenience to her, and Chase is still half-drunk and mumbling and lawyered up.”

Bruce pulled out a chair and sat beside her. “So, what’s your next move?”

“I don’t know. But I’m starting to think there’s someone else. Someone we’re not even considering yet. And I’m going to find them.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Just try to eat something that isn’t crackers.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t start drawing crime-scene diagrams on the kitchen chalkboard.”

Bruce grinned. “Let me know when you switch to dry-erase markers. I’ll bring wine.”

Hayley stared down at her map, the red line she had drawn curling like a fuse.

She wasn’t going to stop until she reached the spark.

Chapter 14

Hayley could tell it was going to be a busy night the second she walked into the restaurant and was greeted by the sound of clattering silverware, the soft murmur of conversation, and the unmistakable bang of Kelton’s elbow against a pan as he pivoted in the kitchen. Hayley’s Kitchen was packed for a post–Labor Day Thursday evening, which surprised her. Maybe it was the warm breeze still lingering in the air, or maybe everyone was clinging to that last taste of summer before September truly set in. Either way, the dining room was full.

Betty, cheerful and efficient as ever, was running the floor like a seasoned cruise director, chatting up tables and gliding around the room like she had wheels instead of feet. In the kitchen, Kelton was barking out orders with his usual mix of charm and chaos, shouting, “Table five, fire the haddock!” one second, then apologizing to a sous chef for nearly elbowing them into a fryer the next.

And Hayley? She just stood there, holding her oversized canvas bag, wondering what, exactly, she was supposed to be doing. This was her restaurant—her name was literally on the sign outside—but tonight, it was running just fine without her.

“Need anything?” she called toward the kitchen door.

Kelton poked his head out, a smear of something creamy on his cheek. “Nope. We’re good!”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Go sit down, relax. You’re making us all nervous just hovering.”

Well, that was clear enough.

Hayley headed toward the small bar but paused when she saw Betty enthusiastically waving her over from one of the corner tables.

“Guess who’s here for date night?” Betty stage-whispered.

Seated at the most romantic table in the house—set slightly apart from the others with a small hurricane lamp flickering between them—were Liddy and Doug Marsh.

Doug looked polished in a crisp white linen shirt, his tan sharp against the fabric. Liddy had on a navy-blue halter dress, her hair swept up in an easy twist that still managed to look deliberately stylish. She’d clearly made an effort.

Hayley smiled and gave a polite wave. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“You’re not,” Liddy said, gesturing toward the empty chair. “Sit.”

“I don’t want to crash your—”

“He needs to talk to you,” Liddy interrupted. “About something he told the police. Something you should know, too.”