Free Murder Most Maine by Karen MacInerney Page B

heard anything yet, but I know the police are on their way. What a waste, though. Another gorgeous man, dead.” She looked up at me. “Do you think I’m jinxed?”
    “Of course not,” I said. “You thought he was attractive, but it wasn’t like you were dating or anything.”
    “Actually,” she said, “I asked him to come over for dinner some night this week, and he agreed, so technically that may not be true.”
    “But you hadn’t actually gone on a date yet,” I pointed out as I minced some ginger and garlic.
    “True.”
    “Did you hear anything about how he died?” I asked as I added orange juice and a touch of brown sugar to the aromatic mixture. I could already taste the teriyaki marinade in my head; it would be light on oil, but heavy on flavor.
    “They’re still working on that,” she said. “Tania’s supposed to call me if she hears anything down at the store. And I’m hoping John will tell us.”
    “I’m not sure I’m speaking to John,” I said as I pulled a bottle of sesame oil from the pantry.
    Charlene winced. “That sweetheart thing was a pretty big slip.”
    “Yeah,” I said, my heart squeezing. “Maybe too big.”
    “Natalie, it may not be what you think. Maybe he was just trying to calm her down. A heat of the moment kind of thing.”
    “Brought on by the lighthouse where they shared all those special summer moments,” I said sourly. Then I shook myself. A man had just died, and here I was worrying about a lovers’ squabble. “There’s nothing I can do about it now, though. I need to focus on my job.” Although if we did break up, having John live next door would put a big damper on the enjoyment of my new life.
    I had mixed the soy sauce and a dash of sesame oil together with the ginger mixture and was pouring everything over the fish when the phone rang. I sloshed a bit of marinade onto the counter in my haste to pick it up.
    “Gray Whale Inn,” I said into the receiver.
    “Natalie, it’s John.”
    My heart seized in my chest. “Oh. Hi.”
    “I wanted to let you know the police are on their way over to the inn.”
    “Why?”
    I could hear him suck in his breath. “They haven’t done the autopsy yet, but it looks like Dirk’s death was suspicious.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means we could be looking at another homicide investigation.”
    I closed my eyes and sank against the counter. “Wonderful.”
    There was silence for a moment. Then he said, in a tentative voice, “How’s Vanessa?”
    “I don’t know,” I snapped. “You can ask her yourself when you get back.”
    And then I hung up on him.
    Charlene was staring at me. “What was that all about?”
    “It looks like it was murder,” I said, feeling my stomach sink.
    “That’s what I figured,” she said, grimacing. “Do they know how he died?”
    “They haven’t done the autopsy yet. But I do know they’re sending the cops over to the inn.”
    “Better toss in a few more fillets then,” she said. “If I remember correctly, Sgt. Grimes looked like a pretty big eater.”
    I groaned. “Thanks for reminding me.”

The doorbell rang just as I slid the bowl of cod into the fridge. I rinsed my hands at the sink and ran to answer it.
    To my surprise, it wasn’t Grimes; it was a stout woman with a Brillo pad of hair and a shiny badge glinting from beneath her blue coat. Her eyes were icy gray under a wide, oily-looking forehead. “Miss Natalie Barnes?” she asked.
    “That’s me,” I said.
    “Detective Rose,” she said. “You and your group found the body, is that right?”
    “Yes,” I said. “I heard you’d be stopping by. Won’t you come in?”
    “Thank you,” she said brusquely, not bothering to wipe her shoes before stepping into my entry hall.
    “I understand you’re running a retreat of some kind here,” she said.
    “That’s right. A weight-loss retreat.”
    “Are the participants still on the premises?”
    “As far as I know, yes,” I said.
    “I’ll need to