Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

despicable. I let a woman die, Olivia. I kidnapped you at gunpoint.”
    “You’ve made mistakes, but you’re still one of us,” she said over the whoosh of the wind. “Don’t do this, Flynn. You’re one of us.”
    The thunder was so loud that it blotted out his reply. He pivoted away from the lighthouse beam, plunging his face in shadow. “Go on now. I don’t want you to see this.”
    Another flash of lightning. Olivia cast a frantic glance around, searching for some way to stall Flynn until Rawlings arrived.
    The noise of the sirens was louder now. Rawlings wasn’t far. She knew it and Flynn knew it too. He gestured at the door leading back inside. “Go.”
    She shook her head. “Don’t. Please don’t.”
    “
Go!
” Flynn bellowed over a crash of thunder. The storm was moving inland, and it was coming fast.
    Olivia heard someone call her name. It was Rawlings. He was probably outside the lighthouse keeper’s cottage.
    He’ll come here next
, she thought.
    “Go to him,” Flynn said. The emptiness in his voice tore at Olivia’s heart.
    She began to cry. “I can’t. I can’t leave you here.”
    “When they get close enough, I’m going to do it. For Christ’s sake, I’m trying to spare you, Olivia. Won’t you let my last act be a decent one?”
    “
Olivia!
” Rawlings shouted, his voice carried by the wind.
    “This town has lost enough already,” Olivia spoke as if she hadn’t heard Rawlings. “I’ve lost enough.” She was aware that she was repeating Rawlings’ words from earlier that day, but they felt right. “Please. I’m still your friend. You’re not alone in this.”
    Flynn smiled at her. She recognized gratitude in that smile, but it was too tainted by despair and resignation for her to dare hope that she’d changed his mind. “I’ve been lost since the day I first saw her,” he said, his voice a hoarse croak. “I mean to find her again.” He pulled the pistol’s hammer back and looked at Olivia. His eyes pleaded with her. “Go.”
    There was a crash down below, and Rawlings called to her again. She heard fear in that call, and she wanted to assure him that she was okay. Acting on impulse, she moved toward the stairs. She only meant to yell, “I’m here!” before returning her attention to Flynn, but she never got the chance. The second she left the balcony, a crash of thunder was immediately followed by a sharp blast. Olivia gasped and clutched at her chest as if she was the one who’d been shot.
    “
Olivia!
” Rawlings’ shout was filled with anguish. Olivia heard him racing up the stairs, and then her knees buckled and she sank to the floor. She could feel the storm gathering behind her, gaining in power and force. She could sense the waves rising and smashing against the shore, and imagined that they were a harsh contrast to the slow, steady ebbing of Flynn McNulty’s lifeblood.
    She didn’t know when Rawlings reached her. She stared at him, unseeing, as he spoke to her, shook her gently by the shoulders, and checked her for injuries. Then his hands dropped away, and he stepped out onto the balcony. Olivia watched him bark commands into his radio while she pulled her legs into her chest. She suddenly felt so cold, as if winter had crept into her body and turned her bones to ice.
    Rawlings got down on the floor and held her to him. He rocked her slowly and stroked her hair, whispering “shhhh, shhhh,” like she was a child who’d woken in the middle of the night because of a nightmare.
    Eventually, other men and women in uniform appeared and began to transform the lighthouse into a crime scene. Dully, Olivia observed them unpack their equipment. She shut her eyes to keep from seeing the camera flash and thought about all the times she’d snuck into this building as a child, climbing up the stairs with a book tucked under her arm. She’d spent so many afternoons on that balcony, savoring an apple as she read. Every now and then, she’d have a pimento cheese sandwich that she’d share with the seagulls. Whenever she finished a book, she’d hold it on her lap and gaze out at the endless water, dreaming of all the places she’d visit when she was grown. She especially loved to read on the balcony after supper. The moon would rise over the ocean, creating a gleaming path of white-gold light. Olivia vowed that one day she’d follow the moon road to a magical place, a place where a skinny, freckled girl could find love and friendship.
    She’d found