A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

me though, I don’t believe lightning will strike twice. Those guys are long gone and our stuff is in some dingy pawnshop somewhere. End of story.”
    Sensing the interview was drawing to a close, Laurel made a few more queries about the stolen art and then gestured around the room. “Your home is spotless! Do you use a cleaning service?”
    “We have a woman who comes in once a week.” Christina’s look of pride turned to an affronted frown. “But she had nothing to do with this. She’s been with us for years and is absolutely trustworthy.”
    Laurel held up her hands, palms facing out. “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that she wasn’t. I’m just trying to establish a connection between the two area robberies. From what I read in the paper, similar items were taken from their home, so I was wondering if your two families shared a cleaning or lawn service or whether you’d recently hired the same electrician or plumber or another type of workman.”
    Olivia felt like giving her friend a thumbs-up. Laurel was digging deeper by searching for a common denominator. At that moment, she seemed every inch the investigative reporter.
    Christina was impressed by the question as well. “I can e-mail you a list,” she said. “There has to be some way the thieves knew the house would be empty that weekend. It’s worth a look. Thank you, Laurel.” She rose and began to walk toward the front door.
    “I’d like to photograph that carving knife, if you don’t mind.” Olivia did her best to sound subservient. She knew that the Gazette readers would be interested in the description of the melted butter but suspected Christina wasn’t keen on having that detail publicized. Quickly, she added, “And a shot of you too. I want to capture your resilience and show people how this episode made you angry, but not fearful.”
    Nodding, Christina led her guests to the kitchen and removed the knife from a drawer. She took the covered glass butter dish from the refrigerator and set it on the counter. Removing the lid, she eased the knife into the middle of the stick of butter. “I figure they set it up like this and then when the butter melted the knife fell to the side.” She turned to Laurel as Olivia focused her camera on the tableau. “They were so tidy elsewhere. They even cleaned up the glass from where they broke the pane in the back door.”
    “Fastidious and particular,” Olivia mumbled.
    Laurel walked to the picture window and peered out. “Were your neighbors home that weekend?”
    Christina shrugged. “Yes, on both sides, but no one saw anything unusual.”
    The women fell silent. The pewter-hued sky hung low, creating a sense that it was much later in the day. The mood had shifted and it was apparent each of the women longed to be alone with her thoughts.
    Laurel wisely thanked Christina for her time, assuring her neighbor that she’d be in touch and to trust in the doggedness of the Oyster Bay Police Department’s chief.
    Back in the Range Rover, Haviland carried on as though Olivia had been gone for hours. Once he finally settled down and Olivia was able to speak over his petulant yipping, she eyed Laurel keenly.
    “You seem to have a plan.”
    “I do. I’m going to interview the other robbery victims and look for connections. If I help solve the case, the Gazette will take me on as a staff writer for sure!”
    Olivia considered the possibility of the former cheerleader cracking the investigation wide open and tried not to grin. After all, she could be witnessing the birth of a gritty and determined Laurel, and Olivia would do anything in her power to help her friend emerge from her suburban cocoon and soar into the open sky.
    Driving to The Boot Top, the women exchanged thoughts and theories about the robbery. Olivia raised the possibility of comparing their findings with those in the Oyster Bay police file. “After we interview the other victim that is,” she added.
    Laurel raised her brows. “I thought this was a one-time deal.”
    Olivia shrugged. “I’ve decided to extend my offer.” Pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot, she reached across the passenger seat and grabbed the gift bag from the floor. “But you’re going to need this for when you truly strike out on your own.”
    Her light blue eyes sparkling with delight, Laurel peeled back layers of tissue paper, exposing the digital camera Olivia had purchased from Best Buy.
    “Oh! This makes me feel so official!” She sniffed