Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

napkin. “I guess I can live with that.”
    “What about you, Chief?” Millay asked, obviously trying to change the subject. “You must be totally wiped.”
    Rawlings studied the splinters of light being cast on the counter by his green beer bottle before answering. “I am tired. But this”—he waved his hand to incorporate all of them—“gives me strength. This fellowship, for lack of a less cheesy word, renews me.”
    Millay rolled her eyes. “Look out, he’s going all Gandalf on us. Rawlings the Grey. Or Sawyer the Salt-and-Pepper.”
    Everyone laughed and Olivia felt some of her own weariness melt away. They would all recover. The tragedy would change them and possibly scar them, but it wouldn’t cripple them. They would work and write and talk and laugh. They would try to make each day memorable.
    “I keep thinking about Violetta’s performance,” Millay said. “The way she seemed to know she was going to die here. And now, she’s become as big a story as the ones she told. I bet she would have liked that. Maybe she even wanted that. To be part of a story no one would ever forget.”
    Olivia considered that for a long moment. “She seemed to care more about stories than people. I think losing Elijah did that to her.”
    “During an interview session, Amabel told me that stories were a big part of Violetta’s relationship with Elijah,” Rawlings said. “Every evening, she’d snuggle with him under a pile of quilts and spin tale after tale. She created entire worlds for her brother. She gave him a place of delight and wonder and escape. She gave him things to dream about. And Amabel never forgave them for excluding her from their nightly ritual.”
    Laurel pointed at Millay. “Just think of all the people who’ll read your book someday. Do you wonder how it might change them? Inspire them?”
    Millay shrugged. “Assuming it gets published, all I want it to do is make them feel something. I don’t care what the emotion is as long as they have a reaction.”
    “There’s no way anyone could read your novel and not be moved,” Harris said sincerely, and Millay shot him a shy, grateful smile. He nudged Olivia with his elbow. “And who’s going to be next to go agent shopping and have a shot at immortality? You?”
    “Definitely not,” Olivia said. “Violetta gave me some amazing advice, but I’ve yet to put it to use.”
    “I’ve got another six months before I’m done,” Rawlings said and turned to Laurel. “I guess it’ll have to be you.”
    She laughed. “Not a chance! I’m way behind the rest of you. I trashed my first novel and started over again, remember?” Grabbing a throw pillow, she tossed it at Harris. “It’s all you, Harris. Polish that manuscript and send it out.”
    “I’m going to be really busy at work, but I’ll try,” he said.
    “You’d better do what she says or the four of us will show up at your Texas office and force you to e-mail a dozen literary agents,” Millay threatened.
    Harris’s mouth curved into a wide smile. “That would be awesome.”
    No one was in the mood to proceed with a critique session, so the five friends ate and drank and talked instead. Knowing this was the last time they’d be together for half a year made the occasion especially bittersweet, but Olivia wouldn’t have traded a second of it.
    Eventually, Millay announced that she had to get to work. She scooted over on the sofa and gave Harris an awkward hug. He didn’t let her go right away, and the words he didn’t speak hovered in the air between them as heavy and thick as thunderclouds.
    Laurel came next. She promised not to cry, but when she embraced Harris, her cheeks were shiny with tears. “You’d better Skype us
and
e-mail us
and
call us,” she said in the stern voice she used to reprimand the twins.
    Rawlings shook Harris’s hand and then pulled him in for a one-armed man-hug, and when it was Olivia’s turn to say good-bye, she kissed him and whispered, “I upgraded your seat on the flight to Dallas. After all, you’re a VIP now.”
    “Thanks.” He paused on the threshold and then said, “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”
    “I’ll be a friend to her. And I’ll always be yours too.” Olivia gave him another squeeze. “Now get out of here before we all start blubbering.”
    Harris got in his car, and Olivia and Rawlings stood outside the front door and waved good-bye. Even Haviland seemed to know that something major had just happened.