A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

but I didn’t want to push Hudson without talking to you first. He asked me to give the blood to you, in case you were interested in getting a DNA test.” Hamilton kept his voice soft and even. It was obvious that none of his news had been easy for Olivia to take. “Hudson told me you were welcome, once you were convinced that the sick man is your father, to travel to Okracoke and see him before time runs out. He’s keeping his best room reserved for you.”
    Exhaling loudly in frustration, Olivia cried, “This guy’s claiming he didn’t write the letter and yet he took the money! What kind of fool does Hudson Salter think I am?”
    The private investigator shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “There’s a lab in New Bern where you can get DNA results in twenty-four hours. Would you like the address?”
    “Yes,” Olivia answered in a tight voice. She stuffed the vial back into the envelope and then pulled her checkbook from her purse. “At this point your services are no longer required. You’ve done excellent work, Mr. Hamilton, going above and beyond the call of duty. I appreciate your dedication and would be glad to send you a written recommendation for your files.” She scribbled out a check, pressing her signature deep into the paper.
    Hamilton waved his hand for her to stop. “You don’t need to worry about payment now, Ms. Limoges. My secretary can send you a bill. This must be quite a shock for you.”
    “I’m sure this will more than cover your fee.” Olivia put the check on the table and rose. She desperately wanted the man to leave, needing solitude at this moment more than ever before.
    Blinking at the amount of Olivia’s check, Hamilton folded it in half and slid in into his pocket. “This is very generous of you, ma’am, thank you.” He moved to the door and then paused. “I hope you find the closure you were seeking, Ms. Limoges. One way or another.”
    And then he was gone.
    Olivia sat motionless at the table and listened until she could no longer hear the rumble of Hamilton’s car engine. When all was silent, she shoved her chair back so roughly that it toppled and clattered on the tile floor and she rushed out to the deck, Haviland bounding after her in expectation of a walk. Olivia didn’t even notice as the poodle shot over the dunes ahead of her. Kicking off her sandals, she rushed into the waves, droplets of salt water stinging her eyes. She pumped her arms and legs, going deeper and deeper. When she could no longer touch the sandy bottom, she began to swim. Eyes closed, she struck out toward the cold, dark blue water well offshore.
    Haviland yipped from the beach and then dove in after his mistress. An excellent swimmer, the poodle was beside her in a matter of minutes. When Olivia finally became aware of his presence, she stopped her forward progress and began to tread water. She turned toward the shore and watched her house bob up and down in the distance. Her gaze then shifted to the lighthouse keeper’s cottage.
    “Come on, Captain,” she said breathlessly, and together, the sodden pair returned more leisurely to the beach.
    Back on dry land, Olivia twisted water from her cotton skirt and then walked slowly to the cottage, dripping as she walked. She’d hired her regular contractor to repair the building’s flood damage and, stepping inside, she could see that he’d made decent progress. The carpet had been removed and the floors and baseboards were primed. Without the furniture, it was easy for Olivia to picture the rooms as they’d once been during her girlhood. She could picture her father seated in his favorite chair, whittling a pipe bowl. He often worked on pipes during winter evenings while Olivia and her mother worked a jigsaw puzzle or played card games for pennies.
    “It’s you, isn’t it?” she asked the empty room, her voice bouncing off the bare walls. “I can feel it. You’re alive on that island and you can’t die because you’re waiting for me.” Her eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. “I waited for you for thirty years!” She moved forward, accusing the space where her father’s chair had been. “And all this time you were so close! Didn’t you want to see me? Didn’t you care how I was?”
    Haviland whined, nosing Olivia’s hand with his nose.
    Olivia was crying freely now. “Why didn’t you love me enough to come back for me?”
    Her tears fell on the pristine white floor, mingling with the salt water pooling