Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

“How about dirty martinis at The Bayside Crab House?”
    Olivia gave her a thumbs-up. “You’re on.” She dipped another fry into the dressing, swirling it around and around. “Are you going to take the first offer you get or see if you can use it to get other editors to offer on your book?”
    Millay shrugged. “I don’t know. My agent thinks we should do what you just suggested. She’s pretty sure more than one publishing house will want my book.”
    “Did you ever imagine you’d be sitting here talking about this scenario?” Laurel asked. “Okay, my soon-to-be-famous friend, you need to promise me one thing here and now.”
    “Depends what it is.” Millay’s tone was leery.
    “I get to be the first reporter to interview you. The
Gazette
will follow your career as you become the next J. K. Rowling.”
    Millay pulled a face. “Seriously? Does Tessa remind you of Harry Potter in any way?”
    Laurel tried again. “Suzanne Collins? Stephanie Meier?”
    While Laurel rattled off the names of every YA author she could think of, Olivia finished her burger and then rested against the vinyl booth back. She was too full to eat another bite. Looking around the room, she sipped her iced tea and realized that the town was already healing. Like her, people were remembering what it felt like to be relaxed and content again. Hearing Captain Fergusson’s gravelly laugh, she saw that he was being entertained by Lowell. When the dwarf caught Olivia’s eye, he winked and then turned his attention back to Fergusson.
    Olivia wondered if the wink had something to do with the favor she’d asked of him the last time they’d met. Though she suspected it did, she’d have no proof until Toby packed his bags to return to college in August.
    If he ends up going back to school, Dixie will eventually tell me
. Olivia was reassured by the thought that very little went on in Oyster Bay without her friend catching wind of it. When Dixie skated over to check on the food, Olivia congratulated her on hosting the best party of the summer.
    Blushing with pleasure, Dixie performed a little curtsy and then twirled on the toe of her skates, causing her rainbow tutu to flutter. The Dixie Olivia knew and loved was back. Her eyelids were covered with a sparkling gold shadow, her hair was in pigtails, and she wore neon-pink tights with matching arm warmers. Straightening her My Little Pony T-shirt, she listened to Millay’s news with delight and insisted on bringing the three women a banana split to share.
    “No ice cream for me. I’m stuffed,” Olivia said.
    “We’ll eat yours,” Laurel promised. “After that, we’ll have to tie a rope around Haviland so he can pull us out of the booth.”
    Laughing, Olivia excused herself and mingled with the other guests for a little while. She then wished Lowell good luck, told her contented poodle to heel, and left the diner.
    Back at her house, she tossed her keys on the kitchen counter and noticed the blinking light on her answering machine. After examining the caller ID, she pressed the button to play her new voicemail.
    “Ms. Limoges, this is Millicent Banks.” Olivia felt a thrill of expectation at the sound of the Realtor’s voice. “I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been a complication regarding the building Flynn McNulty owned. Mr. McNulty took out a loan against his house to make improvements on the bookstore, but he also took out a second loan from a third-party lender to cover additional operating expenses. The bank will put his house up for short sale, and the third-party lender, a company called West Park Management, has paid off the remainder of his mortgage on the bookstore property. They now own the building. When I called and asked if it was available for purchase, I was told quite firmly that it was not for sale. Please call me if you have further questions. Perhaps we can find another property to suit your needs.”
    Olivia was disappointed by the news. She immediately conducted an Internet search on West Park Management and found it to be a small but reputable firm based in Manhattan. Suddenly, she felt a twinge of alarm. She examined on the company’s website until she found a link leading to the profiles of the management team. The moment the page loaded, a familiar face appeared under the Partner heading.
    “Oh, no. Not you,” she whispered angrily. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    The man with the smug smile was not only a top executive