Page 89 of Death of a Grill Master

“It matters if someone at that party took your gun and used it to kill your friend,” Liddy said.

Doug’s voice broke, quieter now. “You think I’m lying?”

Liddy didn’t answer right away. Her lips parted, then pressed shut again. She looked like someone trying to solve a puzzle with one piece missing. “I don’t know what to think,” she admitted. “You told me the gun was stolen … and I believed you. But now, with everything else …”

Doug’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t realize I had to build a whole case file in order to date you. You said you trusted me.”

“I want to,” Liddy said softly. “I want to believe every word you’ve said. But now there’s footage. There’s this man sneaking into storage units, matching your build. And then there’s the fact that Hank is dead. And you had a motive. We both know that.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Doug snapped. “I didn’t sneak into a cave or plant evidence or—” He shook his head. “God, this is insane.”

Liddy’s voice trembled. “But what if it’s not?”

Doug turned toward Hayley. “Is this going to be your next headline? ‘Hayley Powell Destroys a Relationship in Three Easy Steps’?”

Hayley raised both hands. “Doug, I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I’m just trying to get to the truth.”

“Well, maybe next time you try a little harder not to bulldoze everything else in the process.” He turned to Liddy one last time. “I was honest with you. But if that’s not enough, maybe nothing will be. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping across the floor loud enough to make the couple two tables over glance in their direction. He tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table and walked out, his shoulders rigid, his stride tight.

Liddy sat frozen for a moment, eyes wet but unblinking.

Hayley hesitated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Liddy finally looked at her. Her expression was soft, sad, tired. “I know. You’re just doing what you always do. Looking out for people. Even when they don’t want you to.”

Hayley gave a small, awkward smile. “You’d think I’d have figured that out by now.”

Liddy exhaled, brushing a napkin across her cheek. “You probably have. But it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t get tangled in it.”

They both let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh.

Liddy stared out the window toward the sidewalk where Doug had disappeared. “He says he didn’t do it. And I want to believe that. I really do.”

Hayley reached across the table. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s not a bad man,” Liddy said. “Just a man who’s afraid the world will stop seeing him as good.”

Hayley didn’t answer.

But she understood.

If Doug was telling the truth, that left one name.

Chase Wingate.

By twilight, Hayley was parked across from the Desmond home, slouched low in the seat of her Subaru, camera balanced on her knee. Chase had seemingly moved in already. His BMW was in the driveway. The porch light flicked on just before eight.

Kylie opened the front door in silk pajamas, hair pulled back, holding what looked like a martini as she checked her mailbox. Chase appeared in the doorway, a glass of wine in hand. He stepped forward to kiss the back of her neck.

Hayley snapped a photo.

Then another.

She wasn’t even sure what she was trying to get on camera.

Maybe some kind of clue.