A Killer Plot (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

population will look like in ten years.”
    Picturing dozens of Talbot Fine Properties building projects springing up all across town like mushrooms after a long rain made Olivia feel glum. It was Friday evening. Her restaurant would be filled with lively laughter and tantalizing aromas, but she didn’t feel like being there. At home, her unfinished chapter waited for her, but she wasn’t in the mood to write.
    She was restless, craving something different. She wanted company—to share a bottle of wine and quiet the tumult of thoughts whirling around in her head.
    If only for a short while.
    Without being fully conscious of her actions, Olivia parked across the street from Through the Wardrobe. She approached the front door just as Flynn was turning the dead bolt with his key. Seeing her, he smiled.
    “You caught me! I’m closing a full hour early.” He gestured at the periwinkle sky. “It’s just too nice a night to be stuck inside.”
    Olivia followed his gaze and nodded. “Dry though. I could use a cold drink.”
    Flynn studied her face. “I’d love a beer, myself. Where should we go?”
    Hesitating, Olivia wondered if what she planned to say would turn out to be a grave error in judgment. Still, the sultry air and hazy moon convinced her to follow through on her impulse. Shrugging idly, she said, “How about your place?”
     
     
    Flynn’s Caribbean-style cottage was located on a sleepy street not far from Through the Wardrobe. Olivia and Flynn had shared a few drinks on his back patio. The drinks had led to a kiss, which quickly became heated, but Olivia wasn’t ready to explore anything further with the attractive bookstore owner. Despite Flynn’s coaxing and cajoling in hopes that she would stay a little longer, Olivia firmly said good night a few minutes shy of midnight. Seeing any further attempts at persuasion were futile, Flynn walked her through a jade green living room decorated with murals of tropical fish and waited on the front porch until she was inside her car.
    Once she’d pulled away from the curb, Olivia whispered to her poodle, “His decor is wanting, I know.” She laughed, feeling weightless and invigorated.
    Olivia spent the remainder of the night in her own bed and woke early, stretching her long limbs languidly beneath her cool, white cotton sheets.
    After taking a walk, Olivia finished critiquing Millay’s chapter. She was impressed with the younger woman’s imagination and the unique voice that grew stronger with each page. Having never enjoyed the fantasy genre, Olivia found herself eager to read more of The Gryphon Tamer , though one of her first recommendations was that Millay come up with an alternate title.
    Your current title calls to mind a circus performer wearing sequins and brandishing a long whip , she wrote on Millay’s draft. She went on to praise Millay’s use of voice, the success of the suspense created by the opening scene, and her pacing. Olivia’s main criticism was that Millay needed to tone down her use of alliteration and provide more description about the gryphon’s lair.
    Overall, an excellent start. You have definitely captured my interest! She scribbled at the end of the chapter. I am curious to discover what happens now that Tessa has been claimed by her gryphon.
    While Olivia worked, the morning sky had grown overcast. A front was moving in from the south and by afternoon, an exhilarating summer thunderstorm would set upon the town of Oyster Bay. The rain would carry the smells of the deep ocean and childhood and everyone would welcome its arrival. Even the tourists would smile as it fell, watching from porch rockers or from covered balconies as they sipped coffee and propped paperbacks on their thighs.
    As Olivia placed Millay’s chapter into a folder, the phone rang. Flynn’s voice rumbled through the speaker, his low baritone sounding like a distant train or the surf splashing over a jetty of stones. Olivia gravitated toward it but made no move to pick up the phone. Flynn kept his call brief, merely thanking her for last night and inviting her to join him for dinner. Olivia wasn’t ready to see him again just yet, so she deleted the message the moment he was finished speaking.
    “Let’s take another look at the specs for the proposed housing development, Haviland. We can have a picnic lunch in the old park’s gazebo while it’s still standing.”
    Haviland sat on his haunches and raised his eyebrows high, questioning her