A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

house.” He picked up the phone. “But first I’m going to order pizza. Anyone object to mushroom and pepperoni?”
    No one did. While they waited, Laurel peppered Harris with questions about where he planned to look for houses and what style he favored. As Harris didn’t know the difference between a Cape and a ranch, Laurel used the homes featured in television shows as examples.
    “I think the house from The Brady Bunch is the most famous ranch-style house in the world,” she said.
    “Okay!” Harris understood immediately. “So the house from Six Feet Under is Victorian, right?”
    The two continued to name famous television houses until the pizza arrived.
    The delivery boy from Pizza Bay had barely left when Rawlings’ cell phone rang. Excusing himself, he took the call on the tiny balcony overlooking the apartment’s parking lot.
    Olivia accepted a slice of pizza, informed Haviland that under no circumstances was he allowed to partake of the junk food, and watched Rawlings through the glass of the sliding door.
    Initially, the chief’s face registered surprise, but the wide-eyed expression was quickly replaced by one of consternation. Millay, who had raised her slice toward her mouth, was observing the chief as well. With remarkable stealth, she stuck out her bare foot and used her toes to pry the door open by several inches.
    Rawlings’ voice floated inside. “. . . Yes, it sounds like the same perps. I hadn’t expected them to strike again. It seems they’re willing to take more risks. Did this family have kids?” He listened to the answer and nodded. “Same as the Howards. But the homeowners were away, right? No one was hurt?” His mouth turned down in a deep frown. “Dolls?” A shake of the head. “This is the first time they’ve deliberately destroyed the homeowner’s belongings. Up to this point, they’ve taken what they wanted and cleared out. With the exception of the assault on Felix Howard, which I certainly don’t mean to belittle by what I’m about to say, these have been the most respectful and delicate thieves I’ve ever seen.”
    Millay and Olivia exchanged curious glances. By the time they turned their focus back to Rawlings, he was staring directly at them. “See you in twenty minutes.” He studied the phone for a moment and then released a heavy sigh. Olivia wondered what emotion had been released into the air through the chief’s exhalation.
    “There’s been another robbery,” he announced as he stepped back into the room. “I’ve got to drive to Beaufort County and meet their officers at the scene.”
    Laurel swallowed and covered her mouth with her hand. “There wasn’t another—”
    “No. The family entered a boat in the Cardboard Regatta so they were here in town all day. They only returned home about forty-five minutes ago.”
    Millay picked a piece of pepperoni from her pizza and folded it in half between her fingers. “What’s with the dolls?”
    Collecting his car keys and a can of Coke from the kitchen table, Rawlings paused. “This isn’t to be discussed beyond this room, but this family had an antique doll collection. The thieves smashed in the faces, probably using a hammer. One was left intact, but the mouth was drilled wider and a silver spoon was inserted into the opening.”
    Everyone immediately fixated on the reference to the silver spoon. Millay and Olivia began to speak, but Harris shouted louder than both women. “Born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth!” He grimaced. “Man, that is a creepy thing to do. To the dolls, I mean. Leaving clichés are one thing, but the dolls are like little people.”
    “They killed a person,” Laurel reminded Harris in a small voice. “They obviously don’t place much value on a human life.”
    The chief put his hands on his hips and stared down at the writers. “I’m only mentioning this detail because I want you to think about the significance of these messages. My men and I have been researching the clichés and what connections are shared among the families, but nothing these folks have in common has led us to a suspect yet.”
    Millay responded quickly. “We’ll do what we can, Chief. I’ll introduce the subject of the thefts at work and listen as the gossip spreads around the bar. If the Fish Nets crew repeats anything useful, I’ll let you know.”
    “Can the rest of us do anything specific?” Harris inquired.
    Rawlings shrugged and reached out for the doorknob. “I really