The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

and said, “It’s probably going to be weird for a while, but I’m glad you found each other. Family keeps you anchored, you know? Like the boats out that window. Even in a strong wind, they won’t be set adrift.”
    Olivia was tempted to give Gabe a snide retort about bartender wisdom but knew that he meant well. She acknowledged his statement with a dip of her chin and returned to the kitchen.
    Michel had just left the office, and Caitlyn was once again buried in the folds of her mother’s sundress.
    “Why are you acting like this, honey?” Olivia heard Kim ask.
    “I don’t like that man,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice trembling.
    Kim stroked her daughter’s hair, but she didn’t look concerned. “Sweetie, he just looked scary using those big, sharp knives. But Daddy has the same ones at home. It doesn’t mean they’re going to hurt anyone. It’s just a tool, like how a barber uses scissors.”
    Caitlyn scooted away, her eyes flashing. “I’m not scared of knives. I just don’t like him.”
    Clearing her throat, Olivia entered the office and handed Kim her drink. She looked at Caitlyn. “Why does he scare you?” she asked very gently.
    Perhaps because an adult was taking her seriously, Caitlyn answered right away. “He’s got a secret. I can tell.”
    Olivia nodded. “He probably does. Most people have secrets, I think.”
    Caitlyn was silent for so long that Olivia doubted she’d answer, but the little girl finally murmured, “Like Betty did. I knew she wrote you that letter. The one she sent when Grandpa got too sick to come downstairs anymore. Mom told me. She said that’s why we met you.”
    Taking an involuntary step backward, Olivia recalled the mixture of anger and anguish she’d felt after reading the anonymous letter. The claim that her father was still alive coupled with the demand for one thousand dollars in cash for more information had filled her with fury. Even now, a fresh wave of hostility toward her father’s longtime friend and nurse swept over her at the memory.
    Kim looked down at the floor, discomfited by the topic, but Caitlyn moved forward and took hold of Olivia’s hand. “But I’m glad she wrote it, because my daddy found a sister,” she whispered and then immediately retreated to the floor and buried her small fingers in Haviland’s fur.
    After the Salters left, Olivia stood in the doorway of her office, studying Michel’s face as he shoved a live lobster deep into a pot of boiling water.
    Nothing struck her as being amiss.
    But I’ve been wrong before, Olivia thought and returned to the bar for a refill.

Chapter 3
    As for my next book, I am going to hold myself from writing it till I have it impending in me: grown heavy in my mind like a ripe pear; pendant, gravid, asking to be cut or it will fall.
    —VIRGINIA WOOLF

    O livia came home from an exhilarating inspection of the refurbished harborside warehouse that would soon become The Bayside Crab House and brewed a pot of strong coffee. Carrying the coffee and a white chocolate chip biscotti to her desk overlooking the ocean, she printed out Laurel’s chapter, uncapped the green pen Harris had given each of the writers to use for critiques, and began to read.
    No one ever explained what was meant by happily ever after.
    I asked. Through a champagne haze, I voiced the question during my bachelorette party. My married friends exchanged lopsided, knowing smiles and murmured vague replies about the rewards of serving my husband wholesome meals, creating a home of my own, and giving birth to children.
    But there was something in their eyes that betrayed their words. It was an indistinct flash, a hesitation brought on by self-doubt. I didn’t recognize what their looks meant at the time. I believed my friends were just searching for thoughtful answers.
    In reality, of course, they were simply considering how much to lie to me the eve before my wedding, before I would walk down the aisle, white rose petals scattered at my feet.
    They kept their secrets close. The wives.
    It was my first lesson.
    Later, after I became one of them, I checked off the list of the requirements they’d deemed necessary for me to live happily ever after. I cooked my husband meals that could outshine any restaurant’s, I decorated our home until it resembled a magazine spread, and I gave birth to three healthy children.
    When nothing magical happened to my marriage after our third child entered the world, I began to work harder at