A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

Olivia led the chief to one of the leather club chairs and made eye contact with Gabe. Though he was busy mixing a martini, he glanced over at her and nodded. Within minutes, he was at their table with a tumbler of Chivas Regal and one of the restaurant’s microbrews in a frosted glass.
    Rawlings and Olivia clinked glasses, sipped from their drinks, and then the chief arched his brows in curiosity as Olivia placed her laptop on the table.
    “Did you bring your file on the latest robbery?” she asked.
    Glancing at the images surfacing on Olivia’s computer screen, Rawlings patted a worn leather-handled satchel at his feet. The bag called to mind an aging professor or laboratory scientist, but somehow suited the police chief as well. “This is a murder case now, Olivia. I’m not going to simply hand it over for your perusal.”
    She bristled. “I hadn’t expected that, but could you take a look at the chart Harris created? It shows a thorough comparison of the other robberies, including the one that occurred in Beaufort County.”
    The chief’s brow rose higher. “This is Laurel’s work?”
    “In part,” Olivia answered cryptically and pointed out the athleticism of all the victim’s children. “None of them play the same sport or belong to the same country clubs, but these families send their kids to private schools. What of the third?”
    Now Rawlings removed the case file from his satchel. “Let’s see. The Howard children attend The Neuse River Academy.” He examined the computer screen. “As do the Quimby children, I see.”
    Olivia fell silent and let Rawlings think. His gaze grew distant as he turned his face toward the window and fixed his eyes on the twinkling lights out in the harbor. She followed suit, wondering if a tutor or teacher or bus driver linked the families, but dismissed each possibility as it surfaced in her mind.
    “Is it plausible that there’s some sort of coach working at both schools?” she ruminated aloud. “Perhaps an assistant coach? Or a referee? Someone knew exactly when these families would be away from their homes.”
    Rawlings removed a sheet of paper from his file. “These are the names of all the teachers, coaches, close friends, and carpool drivers who come into regular contact with the children.” He placed another piece of paper on top of the first. “Here are the cleaning, garbage, and lawn services used by each family as well as doctors, beauticians, barbers, dentists, veterinarians, accountants, et cetera. Notice anything interesting?”
    He waited for Olivia to read through the names. When she came across the one he’d also recognized, she jabbed at the paper with her finger. “Steve Hobbs! These families all go to Laurel’s husband to have their teeth cleaned?” She released the paper as though it had singed her fingertips. “Pure coincidence.”
    “I’m certain it is as well, but nonetheless, I’ll have to establish his whereabouts on the days the robberies occurred.” Rawlings looked miserable over the prospect.
    Olivia took a generous swallow from her glass. “Can you talk to him during office hours? I’d rather Laurel not have to worry when this turns out to be nothing.”
    Rawlings smiled. “Of course.” He looked up as a waiter hovered over them, clearly unsure how to ask his boss to move her laptop to make room for the hors d’oeuvres Michel had prepared especially for Olivia and her guest. “Allow me,” the chief told the waiter and put the computer on a nearby chair.
    “Chef Michel sends his compliments,” the waiter said to Rawlings. “He’s made several items not listed on this evening’s menu in your honor. First, we have Boursin and spinach bouchée. Next, duck canapés and beef teriyaki brochette. And finally, crab cakes with a Cajun remoulade and mushroom crescents drizzled with a creamed sherry sauce. Enjoy.”
    Rawlings rubbed his chin and stared at the gourmet fare. “Boursin? Bouchée? Brochette? What are we eating?”
    Olivia smiled. “Boursin is a cheese that comes from Normandy. Bouchée is a pastry. Brochette simply means food cooked and oftentimes served on skewers.” She served him a sample from each of the dishes.
    “Do all of your patrons speak gastronomy?”
    “Hardly. That’s one of The Boot Top’s charms. We sound fancy, but the trick is blending the correct fresh ingredients together. We awaken the senses through a single mouthful of tender duck or a sip of fine burgundy.” She gestured at