Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

ambushed Hicks on the mountain. If you show this to the chief and he agrees with the theory, it might influence how he approaches the suspects or people of interest or whatever you call them.”
    The corner of Cook’s mouth twitched in amusement, and then he straightened and threw back his shoulders. It was a posture he often used when Rawlings entered a room. Olivia didn’t know whether Cook was mocking her or not, but he took the paper and said, “I’ll contact the chief right away.”
    She thanked him and then pointed at the lavender door. “Is she the new owner? The terrified blonde behind the desk?”
    He nodded. “That’s Mrs. Kelly. Mr. Kelly’s out of town for the week. He’s gone to some nursing home in Florida. His mama’s sick.”
    “Mrs. Kelly.” The name wasn’t familiar to Olivia. “Has she been helpful? Did she hear anything? See anything?”
    Cook shrugged. “You can barely talk to her without her bursting into tears. She says she’s been too busy to pay attention to conversations or to when her guests come and go, but I’m not totally buying that.”
    “Well, I’m sure she’s worried about The Yellow Lady’s reputation. Do you mind if I have a go? I could give her some pointers on running a business in a tourist town and maybe get her to relax long enough to open up.”
    “Be my guest. Our department is stretched too thin as it is. With a team here, one at Mr. McNulty’s house, and a third at the station conducting interviews, we don’t have time to coax things out of her. Not that I’m sure there’s anything to coax. I just have a gut feeling that she knows more than she’s letting on.”
    “You have solid instincts. They’re worth paying attention to,” Olivia said.
    Cook arched a brow but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and headed for one of the police cars. Olivia went back inside the inn and introduced herself to Mrs. Kelly, whose first name was Bev, and then sat down in one of the guest chairs facing the desk. After assuring the young woman that the police wouldn’t trash the place, she asked if there was anything she could do to lend a hand while Mr. Kelly was away.
    Bev’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t handle any of it. This whole owning-a-B&B-thing is just too much. And now
this
happens!” She gestured in the general direction of the upstairs guest rooms.
    “You’re not responsible for the behavior of your guests,” Olivia said. “Not any more than I’m responsible for how patrons act in my restaurants. Not only that, but any media attention ends up being good for business. Do you know what else would be good?”
    Sniffling, Bev looked at her and said, “What?”
    “If you knew something that could help the police,” Olivia said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been lucky enough to have done that in the past, and you should have seen how many newspapers and television stations jumped on the story. People drove to Oyster Bay from all over to eat at The Boot Top Bistro or The Bayside Crab House.”
    Bev didn’t seem keen on the idea. “We have plenty of guests. That’s not the problem. It’s all the work. Getting up at five to do the baking and then spending the rest of the day doing laundry and dealing with the yard. Lee said this would be a break for us, but it’s actually
breaking
us.”
    Olivia could see that Bev wasn’t exaggerating. Her hands were red and her fingernails were ragged and torn. She was too thin, her hair was limp, and the skin under her eyes was puffy from lack of sleep. “Can’t you hire a few people? This place is too much for the two of you to manage, especially in the height of the tourist season.”
    “I can see that now, but we put every dime into buying it, and then our rainy-day budget got eaten up by new gutters and a paint job and . . .” she trailed off.
    “Listen, I know that you don’t want to make any decisions without your husband, but I can offer some friendly advice. If you’d like me to look over your books, I can at least suggest things that can be done to free up a little cash. You clearly need assistance with the cleaning and the laundry. How much are you charging for a standard room?”
    When Bev told her, Olivia immediately shook her head. “Including breakfast? That’s not enough. You should increase the rate by fifty dollars for all new bookings. That’s a start. Now, one of my sous-chefs has a sister in need of work. Any kind of work. I’ve met her, and I think she’d be a