A Killer Plot (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

gestured for Olivia to follow him back to the children’s section. “Are you their fairy godmother?” he teased.
    “Certainly not,” Olivia replied. “I’m merely an adult who realizes that the only chance they have of growing into decent human beings is by becoming enamored of books. Laurel can’t afford new ones, but I can. It’s as simple as that.”
    Eyes twinkling, Flynn selected several board books from a lower shelf. As he did so, Olivia chose two macaw puppets and added them to the books in Flynn’s arms. “Those too.” She pointed a finger at him. “And no more references to fairy godmothers or I’ll be forced to sic my dog on you.”
    Haviland curled his upper lip, exposing a row of pointy, white teeth.
    Flynn’s fingers paused over the cash register. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t poke fun at you after what happened to your friend. I’m not normally insensitive. Please accept my apology.”
    Olivia knew everyone in the small town would have heard about the murder by now, but she couldn’t help bristling a little. “No matter how private the pain, it becomes everyone’s business in a town as small as this. Skeletons don’t stay in closets in Oyster Bay. They’re brought out and paraded through the streets.”
    Accepting Olivia’s credit card, Flynn held the plastic in his hand and gave her a sympathetic look. “Sounds like you know about this custom firsthand.” He waited for her to respond and when she didn’t, he turned away in order to tender the sale. “I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve got such a dull past,” he stated airily, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “You can’t get into too much trouble trapped in cubicle land for half your life. Borrow someone’s stapler and not give it back, jam the fax machine, use the last of the powdered creamer at the coffee station—that’s about as far as you dare go.”
    When Olivia reached out to take the bag, Flynn’s fingers folded over her hand. “Remember, I’m new to Oyster Bay. Keep your secrets locked away from me as long as you want. I only want to see what you’d like to show me.”
    Unused to hearing such frankness, especially delivered by such a handsome and charismatic man, Olivia found herself at a loss for words.
    When a mother carrying an infant in some kind of sack across her chest approached Flynn in search of a book called The Baby Whisperer , Olivia politely excused herself and left the store.
    Outside, the air was twenty degrees warmer and stiflingly moist. Haviland blinked against the sun’s glare and cocked his head at his mistress.
    “All right, so I’m flustered!” Olivia snapped. “He is very good-looking and it has been quite some time since my last—”
    Haviland barked.
    “Point taken, Captain. My mind should be on other matters.” She hastened to the Range Rover. “But there’s no need for you to act jealous either.”
    Ten minutes later, Olivia parked in the employee lot of The Boot Top and, giving her kitchen staff the most cursory of waves, went straight back to her office. Haviland perched firmly in the threshold, thereby increasing his chance of being fed choice tidbits by Michel.
    Olivia called her aesthetician in New Bern and listened as the woman recommended several products to render Harris’s skin condition less irritating.
    “I’m in search of something more permanent than a topical cream,” Olivia explained. “We’re talking about a good-looking boy here, but because of this issue, he probably hasn’t had a proper date since high school. And he’d be a real catch. Harris would treat some lucky girl like a queen.”
    The aesthetician laughed. “Then send him my way!”
    “Can you help him or not?” Olivia was impatient to get to her computer.
    “Only if you bring him into the spa,” the woman replied sweetly. She never seemed bothered by Olivia’s abruptness. “I can see if he’d benefit from a series of laser treatments or IPL, which stands for intense pulse light. I can’t prescribe a treatment over the phone.”
    Olivia wondered how she’d ever raise the subject to Harris. She didn’t know him well enough to pull him aside and embark on a discussion about his facial rash, let alone drag him to a posh spa in New Bern to have it treated by a laser while she footed the bill.
    “I’ll find a way,” Olivia promised.
    Next, she pulled up the website for the Oyster Bay Gazette and searched for an announcement about the township committee meeting. By law, the