A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

over Millay’s. “My family was unharmed. What was taken can be replaced. They can’t. Let those guys have our stuff, as long as they never return. That’s why I agreed to talk to you. Anything I can do to help catch them means that they won’t come back.”
    Her phone blipped and she examined the screen. “The cards are theirs, but they haven’t played with them since the vacation we took in June.” She glanced at Olivia with excitement. “Wouldn’t it be something if the thieves get caught over a deck of cards?” She put a finger on her lips and tapped. “The question is . . . where did I put them?”
    “Did you return them to one of your son’s bedrooms?” Olivia hazarded a guess.
    Sue smirked. “That would be the logical place to start, but I’m easily distracted, so even if I meant to put them away, it doesn’t mean I succeeded. Let’s see. I put a rubber band around them and stuck them in a pocket while I was still standing in the kitchen.” She touched her pants. “But it was a deep pocket, like you’d find on a coat.”
    “It’s too hot for a coat, unless it was a rain jacket,” Olivia pointed out.
    Throwing open a hall closet, Sue shoved coats around but came up empty-handed.
    “An apron?” Millay asked.
    “I don’t cook. I heat things up or order takeout.” Sue began tapping her lips again. “Oh! I remember! I was painting the day after we’d been robbed. I was hoping it would settle me down, but I ended up covering up the whole thing with primer and starting all over again. Didn’t like the color. Still, the cards must be in my smock.”
    She dashed from the room and quickly returned, holding the cards by the edge. They were loosely wrapped in a tissue. “Let me stick these in a plastic bag.”
    Once the cards were safely sealed in plastic, Olivia reached out for them. “I’m meeting with the chief of police in about two hours. I’ll see that he gets these.” When Sue looked perplexed by the declaration, Olivia colored. “It’s okay. He’s a friend of mine.” With the deck of cards safely in her purse, Olivia shook hands with Sue and thanked her effusively for an interesting afternoon.
    Back in the Range Rover, Haviland looked up from his bone and sniffed the air, his warm brown eyes alight with curiosity.
    “Dirty socks and rotten bananas. That’s all, Captain,” Olivia told him.
    Millay scratched the poodle behind the ears and then chucked Olivia on the arm. “Smooth move back there, by the way.”
    “Which one?” Olivia asked in jest.
    “You told Sue you’d deliver the cards to the chief of police, but you neglected to mention that the chief you’d be seeing rules over the Oyster Bay fuzz, not Beaufort’s men in blue.”
    Olivia’s laughter filled the car’s cabin and then floated out Haviland’s open window. “I didn’t want to burden Sue with such a trivial detail. She’s got enough going on, wouldn’t you agree?”
    Millay shrugged. “I am so not doing the married with kids thing.” She paused. “At least not until I’m forty. By then, I’ll be too old to care.”
    “Watch it,” Olivia growled. “I’m forty.”
    “I’m just kidding. I really want to be you when I grow up,” Millay continued wryly. “I’d especially like to have your bank account.” She sighed. “I’m going to have to dress in a very provocative way tonight to make up for two nights of lost tips. We’re talking hoochie mama gear. Like Old Mother Hubbard, my cupboard is freaking bare!”
    Later, Olivia pulled up in front of Millay’s apartment complex and wagged a finger in mock warning. “You’ve been compensated for this afternoon’s work, so there’s no need to dress like a prostitute. I appreciated having you along today.”
    Millay frowned in confusion.
    “Check your bag,” Olivia directed with a smile. “See you Saturday.”
    She was pleased to see Millay’s mouth drop open in surprise as she removed a gift card to the Piggly Wiggly from her bag. She flipped it over, noted the amount of the card, and widened her eyes in delighted surprise.
    “Haviland.” Olivia ruffled the black curls on her poodle’s head. “Our work here is done.”

Chapter 10

    Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity.
    —VOLTAIRE

    O livia’s laptop was open on one of the small café tables at Bagels ’n’ Beans. Aside from her coffee mug, every inch of the table’s worn, wooden surface was