Page 87 of Death of a Grill Master

“This is fine,” Hayley assured her.

“We hit the harder stuff once we’re out to sea,” Nancy said with a wink.

Hayley accepted the drink, scanning the deck.

Cushy, serene.

Too serene.

The engine purred to life.

Nancy was already at the helm, halfway into a story about someone at the Chamber of Commerce allegedly having cosmetic procedures done in Bangor under a fake name.

Roger raised his glass. “To fresh air and a fresh start.”

Hayley sipped cautiously. She hadn’t eaten lunch, and she didn’t trust either of them to not try to push her overboard.

It wasn’t so much paranoia as pattern recognition.

Roger settled beside her, smiling too widely. “You’re not here just for the view, are you?”

Hayley feigned surprise. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You think I’m the man in the wet suit. The one sneaking around the cave and the storage unit.”

Nancy laughed lightly as she gripped the wheel. “That would require Roger to put on neoprene. Do you know how much he sweats in polyester?”

Hayley blinked. “So you’ve heard about the man I saw in the sea cave?”

Roger nodded. “Caleb Maddox came around this morning. Asked if I’d ever been scuba diving near Thunder Hole.”

Nancy let out a snort. “Roger? Scuba diving? He nearly drowned once using a snorkel at Sand Beach.”

Roger chuckled. “He showed me a still from the footage. Tall guy, broad shoulders, avoids the camera. I told him it wasn’t me.”

Hayley sipped. “And he believed you?”

“He checked the times. You were in that cave during the day—I was home watching Naked and Afraid reruns. Nancy made popcorn. The night someone broke into that storage unit? I was at poker night at the VFW. Ask anyone.”

“I even picked him up afterward,” Nancy added. “So he could drink without guilt.”

Hayley tried to smile, but her grip on the mimosa glass had tightened.

The Larkins were being oddly forthcoming.

Too forthcoming.

Or were they just innocent and being honest?

It was hard to tell.

Roger leaned closer. “But tell me this—why are you really investigating all this, Hayley? Hank Desmond wasn’t your friend. You’ve got no badge. Why keep digging?”

Nancy’s tone turned airily sharp. “Unless, of course, you think you’re the only one in Bar Harbor who knows the truth about people.”

Hayley laughed nervously. “I just … care about justice.”

Roger refilled her glass. “And we care about not being accused of murder.”