A Deadly Cliche (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

cup,” she ordered the young barista.
    Confused, April added a packet of sweetener to her drink and followed Olivia and Haviland outside.
    “Let’s show her our new acquisition, Captain.”
    The two women walked toward the harbor. A cool wisp of air drifted over them, carrying a hint of autumn. Olivia led April to the warehouse she’d own as soon as all the closing paperwork was finalized.
    “This is it.” She gestured at the building. “I want to change this wreckage into the Bayside Crab House. Delicious food, lively music, and a casual setting overlooking the water. What do you think?”
    April was stunned. “You want me to do the designs? I’ve never worked on a structure this . . . old before.”
    Olivia laughed. “Don’t be daunted by her age. This girl’s about to have major cosmetic surgery. You’ll be working with my contractor, Clyde. He’s the best in the business. He can build anything I ask him to, but he needs design feedback.”
    “Do you have blueprints?” April asked and then, without waiting for an answer, began to slowly move around the perimeter of the building. Haviland followed behind, sniffing an invisible trail of human and animal odors as April began to talk to herself. “The kitchen should be on this side. There’s decent access to the road for deliveries and garbage pickup. The front should be dominated by a large bar and I can see an expansive deck with plenty of room for tables . . .” She placed a hand on an exterior wall. “This place could become Oyster Bay’s next hot spot.”
    Olivia smiled. She liked how April touched the building, acquainting herself with its bones of brick and wood. “The job’s yours if you want it. And before you give me an answer, I want you to know that there will be days you are simply not going to be able to work. No one expects you to act as though you haven’t been knocked flat by loss.”
    “I’ll do my best,” April mumbled.
    The clicking of Haviland’s manicured claws over the planks of one of the lower docks caught Olivia’s attention. She signaled for him to return and then focused on April again. “Right now I’d just like you to look over the schematics and do some preliminary drawings. Once the closing is done, I’ll want you to meet with Clyde. When you’re ready I’d then like you to present a final proposal to me.” She raised her hand to stop April from speaking. “Take the night to think it over. The terms of your employment are outlined in this contract, and I trust they will help relieve some of your financial worries.”
    April was tactful enough not to peer inside. She thanked Olivia and walked away with her head held a little higher and Olivia knew she had judged the other woman correctly. April was a fighter. She’d hold herself and her family together despite the crushing blow they’d received. Eventually, perhaps years from now, she would emerge from her cocoon of grief. Olivia hoped that when that happened, a good man would appear and give April a second chance at happiness.
    Evening fell and Olivia arrived home to the ringing of the phone. For a moment, she thought her lab results might have been completed early and dashed across the kitchen to grab the receiver from the cradle. She simultaneously noticed Laurel’s number on the caller ID.
    “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you,” Laurel said hurriedly. “But there was a break in the case and I had to interview one of Rawlings’ officers and then submit an article to my editor before Steve came home.”
    “What break?”
    Laurel put her hand over the speaker and said something to one of her sons. She apologized for the interruption and then said, “The John Doe from the beach has been identified. When the cops were interviewing the area lawn-care companies, they found out one of the crew members of a large landscaping company stopped showing up for work around the time you found that man’s body in the sand. Not only was he in the lawn-care business”—Laurel paused theatrically—“but the man was also a parolee. His name’s Alan Dumfries.”
    Olivia glanced at the clock. It was earlier than her usual cocktail time, but she didn’t care. Dropping a few ice cubes into a crystal tumbler, she opened a fresh bottle of Chivas Regal Reserve. “Let me guess. Alan served time for robbery.”
    “Bingo! However, he doesn’t seem to have ties to anyone in town. No family, friends, nothing. Alan lived in Fayetteville before he got