A Killer Plot (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

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    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, andincidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
     
    A KILLER PLOT
     
    A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
     
    PRINTING HISTORY
     
    Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / June 2010
     
Copyright © 2010 by Ellery Adams.

     
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    eISBN : 978-1-101-18786-9
     
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Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
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For Mary Shirley Harrison, dear friend and kindred spirit

Chapter 1
     
    Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard.
     

—DAPHNE DU MAURIER
     
     
     
     
    T wo of Oyster Bay’s lifelong citizens were in line at the Stop ‘n’ Shop, gossiping over carts stuffed with frozen entrées, potato chips, boxes of Krispy Kremes, and liters of soda when Olivia Limoges breezed through the market’s automatic doors.
    “Here she comes, Darlene. The grouchiest woman on the entire North Carolina coast,” the first woman remarked, jerking her head toward the produce department.
    “And the richest.” Darlene watched as Olivia examined a pyramid of peaches, turning the fruit around and caressing the flushed, velvet skin of each golden orb before placing it in her cart. “She’s good-lookin’ enough. Doesn’t have the curves most men wanna hold on to at night, but with all that money, you’d think she could net at least one fish.”
    “She might have more money than Oprah, but she ain’t exactly a ray of sunshine,” her companion pointed out. “Half the town’s scared of her.”
    “That’s because half the town works for her, Sue Ellen.” Darlene pulled a sour face as her friend dumped a family-sized Stouffer’s lasagna on the moving belt.
    “She ever smile at you, Mandy?” the woman named Sue Ellen questioned the cashier.
    Mandy cracked her gum and shrugged. “Ms. Olivia is nice enough, I reckon.”
    “Maybe she likes younger men. You know, one of those male models or somethin’. Or maybe she wants ’em to be rich and speak three languages and be as high and mighty as she is. She’s too fussy if you ask me. That’s why she doesn’t have a man,” Sue Ellen whispered, clearly impressed with her own insight as the cashier ran her friend’s check through the register. “Who knows what’s goin’ on in that big ole house of hers?”
    Darlene’s dull brown eyes turned misty. “If I had all that money, I’d go on one of those cruises with them chocolate buffets. You ever heard of such an amazin’ thing? Whole fountains of chocolate! You can dunk