A Killer Plot (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

to talk to one another about the weather. Olivia and Harris snickered as several exchanges about the heat wave circulated through the room as though the subject were being pushed around and around by the ceiling fans.
    “Now I understand why you park in so many reserved spaces.” Harris grinned and took a slurp of his shake. He jabbed at an unyielding lump of ice cream with his straw. “So I’ve mentioned before that I write code for computer games, right?” The laughter had gone out of his voice. “Well, right now my team is busy creating the backgrounds for the game’s dungeon scenes. If I had been working on forest scenes or village scenes or anything else, I probably could have trudged along just fine. But this morning, as I sat at the keyboard designing damp stone walls, prison cells with chains, and skeletons piled up on the dirt floors and hanging from rusty manacles, I had to get out of the office.” He paused and touched his chin. “Suddenly, I just had to breathe some fresh air and have a chocolate milk shake.”
    Olivia nodded. “How’s Millay?”
    Shrugging, Harris flattened his crumpled napkin on the countertop. “It’s hard to tell. She acts so tough, but I think there’s a lot going on under the surface she doesn’t want to let people see. She found the last haiku, you know.”
    This was news to Olivia. “Where?”
    Harris seemed pleased to be the bearer of such an interesting bit of information. “Atlas must have dropped it in the meeting room. Millay thought she was just picking up some litter. She had already gathered up gum wrappers from those girls. I guess she has a thing against littering. Anyway, she picked up the paper and unfolded it and we both read the poem.”
    “Do you remember the words?” Olivia asked doubtfully.
    Setting his phone on the counter, Harris pressed a few buttons and three lines of text appeared in the display window. Olivia read them aloud.
    A rotten tree falls
Letting in enough light—
For the sapling to grow
     
    “Autumn,” she murmured. “This poem comes closer to following the rules than the summer haiku. It’s interesting and rather disturbing that he wanted to improve as a poet.” Her eyes returned to the first few words. “I take it Blake Talbot is the rotten tree. Atlas planned to shoot him and watch as his body toppled over like a felled tree. Then Atlas’s daughter, the sapling, would receive more sunlight. No one would hold back her burgeoning rise to fame and fortune.”
    “Somehow, I don’t think Heidi’s feeling too grateful at the moment,” Harris concluded as Dixie arrived with Olivia’s lunch. She placed a bowl of tomato soup and a plate containing a grilled cheese sandwich on the counter in front of Olivia. Whisking away the empty limeade tumbler, the intuitive proprietor set a steaming mug of hot tea next to Olivia’s hand.
    “Wrap your fingers around that. You need some old-fashioned childhood food, ‘Livia. Never met a person on this earth who couldn’t start mendin’ after a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.” Dixie tucked a feather of blond hair back under her silver headband and dusted a crumb from her Little Miss Chatterbox shirt.
    Olivia opened her napkin and smiled. “Dixie, you’re a precious gem hidden amid the rocks.”
    Dixie snorted. “Tell Grumpy that. He’s been promisin’ to buy me a new ‘rock’ for going on ten years now.” She elbowed Harris. “If a gal ever tells you size don’t matter, she’s lying.”
    Harris’s cheeks burned red.
    “Aw, lamb. You don’t need to blush. I’m just messin’ with you.” Dixie was genuinely contrite.
    “It’s not what you said, ma’am. I’ve got a skin condition.” Harris put his palms over his cheeks, looking miserable. “I look embarrassed or humiliated or like I’m suffering from heat stroke at least ten times a day.”
    Dixie turned to Olivia. “Such a handsome boy. Reminds me a little bit of Peter Pan.” She put a hand on Harris’s back but kept her eyes on Olivia. “There’s got to be somethin’ out there to fix his skin, am I right?”
    “Actually, there is,” Olivia answered brightly.
    Harris shook his head “I’ve tried every topical medicine on the market. They don’t work.” He smiled at Dixie. “If I ever do find a girl to propose to, it’ll mean she’s gotten used to my face and likes me despite my rosy red cheeks. We’d be a modern age Beauty and the Beast.”
    Olivia touched his arm. “Personally,