Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

suspected he’d been waiting to speak to someone about the professor for a long time. “I assume that she gave him permission to print her stories in the end,” Olivia said.
    “Most of them,” Lowell said. “But I saw him during her shows. He attended them so he could write down the ones she didn’t want him to print. Even from the stage I could see him scribbling away.”
    “Why? He couldn’t have published them without her permission.”
    Lowell shrugged. “I asked him that same question, but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I didn’t want him pulling one over on Miss Violetta. She was good to me. A real classy lady.”
    He sounded sincere, but Olivia decided it was time to push him. “What about the treasure Violetta alluded to? Did she mention it in all of her performances?”
    Staring her right in the eye, Lowell shook his head. “Only when she felt the past calling to her. It’s just a made-up story anyhow. There’s no treasure.”
    Olivia studied Lowell and came to the conclusion that he was an accomplished liar. She said nothing, letting the silence grow uncomfortable.
    Dixie was the first to react. Downing the rest of her beer, she nudged Lowell with the empty can. “Tell her how the professor died.”
    Lowell shot her a reproachful look and then pushed himself out of the chair. “I need a drink.”
    To avoid watching his ungainly passage to the refrigerator, Olivia focused her attention on Haviland, who was stretched out behind her in a soft patch of grass. Their conversation and the buzz of insects had lulled him to sleep. His paws twitched as his dream self chased phantom prey.
    The pop and hiss of a pull-tab puncturing aluminum caused Olivia to glance up. Lowell drank several swallows of beer and then burped loudly. “We were all up on Beech Mountain that night,” he began, his gaze fixed on the trees again. “Hicks wanted to follow the track of one of Violetta’s haint tales. It was about two young girls who were being shadowed by a ghost. They crossed a log bridge over the river to get away, because the mountain people believe ghosts can’t move over water. This haint was protecting the silver coins he’d hidden inside the heart of a hollowed-out trunk.”
    “Was Hicks after the coins?” Olivia asked. “Are they the treasure?”
    “There’s no damn treasure!” Lowell yelled, lurching to his feet.
    Haviland jerked awake with a growl and bared his teeth at the small man.
    Olivia put a hand on her dog’s head. “It’s all right, boy.”
    Lowell slowly resumed his seat, his expression guarded.
    “Let me ask a different question, then,” Olivia said. “Why did Hicks go at night? And why were you with him?”
    There was a long pause. “The haint tale took place just after twilight. In the dead of winter. Hicks said he wasn’t just gathering Violetta’s stories. He wanted to write a book about mountain people too. Claimed he had to live some of her tales if he was going to get the words right.”
    Olivia made an encouraging noise.
    “So there we were. The professor, a local man Hicks hired as a guide, and me. I’d lived up in the mountains for a few months, but I didn’t know my way around the place where Violetta grew up. She wouldn’t go near it herself. There was still a little daylight when we left the cabin Hicks was renting, but it got dark real quick. I went out of curiosity and because I didn’t really trust the guy, but if I knew how things would end, I never would have gone.” He slapped his thighs. “I don’t exactly have legs for hiking. Always thought Dixie’s way of getting around was the smartest. Stay on flat ground and roll on four wheels.”
    Dixie nudged him with her bare foot. “Then what in hell’s name were you doin’ in those hills? You like fast cars and loud bikes. Hot meals and warm beds. Soft women and all-night bars. Why’d you take that job?”
    “Not many folks were looking to hire an ex-con. The money was fair and Violetta was a good boss. She didn’t treat me like a freak. She knew what it felt like to be different. As it turned out, I liked being onstage.” A smile played around the corners of his mouth. “People stared at me because I wanted them to. They weren’t the kind of stares we’re used to, Dix. I wanted them to look at me.”
    Dixie flashed him a grin. “I get that. Why do you think I wear rainbow kneesocks and tutus? I want folks to know that I’m more than a dwarf. I’m a diva on wheels.”
    He