A Killer Plot (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

to the stern to catch another rope. Three men shouted companionable orders to one another, and within minutes, the Clara Sue was docked.
    “Good haul?” Olivia asked the older man she assumed to be the captain.
    “Can’t complain,” he answered gruffly.
    Having spent the first ten years of her life with her fisherman father, Olivia knew the man’s response indicated a full hold. “I’m Olivia Limoges. I own The Boot Top and I’m in desperate need of fine, fresh shrimp.”
    “Aye. I know who you are.” The man paused in his preparations to unload and stared at her, his deep-set eyes softening as he did so. “You favor your mama. She was a real looker.”
    For the moment, Olivia forgot her purpose in coming to the docks. “Did you know her well?”
    “Nah. The missus and me would cross paths with her and your daddy from time to time. She always had a kind word for us. Was a real lady, she was.”
    “Thank you,” Olivia spoke after a long pause. “I don’t remember much about her, so whenever I come across someone who does, those memories are a gift to me.” Embarrassed by her own candor, she looked away toward the blue blur where the sky met the ocean.
    “The waters we fished today were the same color as your eyes, miss. We caught some mighty fine shrimp there.” The captain offered her a tentative smile. “How can I help you?”
    Olivia explained how much shrimp she required and that she needed it loaded into her cooler immediately. She and the captain quickly agreed on terms.
    “And I have a bonus here to show my gratitude.” Olivia handed the money to one of the mates. The man removed the bills and began to count them.
    The captain’s eyes slid over to the money and then returned to Olivia’s face. “You’ve got class, miss, just like your mama did.”
    A warm feeling flooded Olivia’s heart. She handed the captain a business card. “I’d like you to be our primary shrimp supplier.” She focused her attention on the captain. “If you contact my chef, Michel, he’ll see to the arrangements.”
    The captain and his two mates expressed no obvious satisfaction over her offer, but the slight straightening of their shoulders and the flicker of light in their eyes told Olivia they were pleased. Times were never easy for a fisherman, and a steady buyer created both an element of pride and provided a small measure of relief from constant monetary worries as well.
    Back at The Boot Top, the kitchen was a cyclone of activity. Pots bubbled and knives flashed as two sous chefs chopped cloves of garlic, mushrooms, and scallions. Michel flew around the room, barking sharp commands, tasting sauces, and consulting his food-stained recipe notebook. Her employees were pink-cheeked and frenzied. Olivia smiled. All was as it should be in the kitchen of a five-star restaurant.
    “Don’t look so smug,” Michel cautioned, reading her expression. “We need stellar reviews if we want to remain the best restaurant on the coast. Those shrimp had better be perfection.”
    “You won’t be displeased,” Olivia promised. She and Haviland headed for her office. After replying to several emails, she was just about to review the week’s menus when one of her waitresses tapped on her door.
    “Ms. Limoges? There’s a man asking for you. I think he’s the chief of police, but I’m not sure.”
    “Thank you, Lisa.” Olivia checked her watch. “How did it get to be five o’clock? You can stay here, Captain. I’m sure Michel will give you a few nibbles of shrimp after he’s had a smoke break.”
    Haviland looked hopeful. The poodle was very fond of fresh shrimp but was treated to them very rarely. Even then, he was only allowed a few, as Olivia didn’t consider shrimp good for his diet.
    In The Boot Top’s luxuriant ladies’ room, Olivia hastily changed into her spare outfit, ran a brush through her white blond hair, and put on mascara and lipstick. Briefly wondering if she smelled of shrimp, she rubbed on a dab of scented hand lotion kept on the counter for patrons’ use.
    Satisfied with her appearance, Olivia slung the bag containing her other clothes onto the chair in her office and marched out to the dining room to meet her guest. Chief Rawlings stood at the bar, a martini glass in his hand. He and Gabe were engaged in a casual conversation and Olivia reflected that most people seemed completely at ease in the lawman’s presence.
    It must make him good at his job, she thought. To get to the