The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

branches.
    Olivia sat beside Harris on the wall, relishing the peacefulness of the moment. Her life had had little quiet of late, and this patio of cracked flagstones surrounded by a garden of weeds was an oasis of blissful calm.
    Clyde’s focus remained on the house. He glanced from his notes to the structure and back at Harris. “I know I took some of the wind out of your sails, boy, but I don’t want you to think this is going to be easy. She’s going to make demands of you, but all houses do. In the end, she’ll be worth the work you’re going to have to put in.”
    Harris smiled, his cheeks dimpling with pleasure. “And you’ll help me find the right guys to do the jobs I can’t figure out how to do?”
    After a solemn nod, Clyde jerked his thumb at Olivia. “I’d get in here with my own toolbox if my taskmaster would let up on me for just a day or two, but she’s hell-bent on opening her Bayside Crab House by Memorial Day weekend.”
    “So that’s why you’ve been so interested in real estate lately,” Harris said. “You must be scoping out houses for your brother and his family.”
    “ Half brother,” Olivia corrected tersely. “And it’s not for me to decide where they’re going to live. I just thought I’d rule out the duds to save time. I need Hudson to review the final kitchen layout for the restaurant, and if he’s running all over Oyster Bay comparing three-bedroom properties, we’re sure to fall behind deadline.”
    Clyde gave Harris a meaningful look. “See what I mean? We should send her to Washington. She’d have the deficit licked and both our jobs and our soldiers back from overseas before the lawmakers knew what hit ’em.”
    Olivia grimaced. “I have no interest in politics. Let’s go, gentlemen. I believe Harris has an offer to submit before this day is done.”

    Olivia shot a glance at Millicent Banks, Harris’s real estate agent, who was parked alongside the curb in front of the picturesque bungalow. She’d been chatting on her cell phone since they’d arrived, and Olivia had hoped the conversation would be a long one. In fact, she had been pleased to have been left alone with Harris and Clyde. Millicent was a shrewd saleswoman, and Olivia hadn’t wanted the Realtor to talk their ears off the whole time. One could glean the true sense of a house only in absolute silence. It was a feeling really. A hunch.
    Having stood side by side with Harris inside the sturdy bungalow, Olivia saw no reason to dissuade her friend from submitting a bid, and as the amicable young software designer waved good-bye to Clyde and approached Millicent’s Caddy, the look on his face made it clear that he was smitten with the house.
    Olivia smiled as Millicent hastily completed her phone call and sat back against the supple leather of her seat with a nearly imperceptible smirk of satisfaction. Millicent was also the listing agent on this house and stood to make a tidy commission on the property, and while Olivia admired the older woman’s drive, she didn’t want her friend to pay a single cent over what she deemed to be a fair price for the house.
    “Can we go back to your office and draw up the papers?” Harris asked as he jumped in the car.
    Millicent was about to answer when Olivia leaned against the open passenger door. She gestured for Harris to come close and then whispered a figure into his ear.
    “In this market, that’s a solid offer,” she said firmly and then acknowledged Millicent’s presence with a polite nod. “Fixing this place up will put a strain on his savings account as it is.” She fixed her sea blue gaze on Millicent. “The Bayside Book Writers need him to have enough money left over to buy coffee and printer paper, so I’ve given him my recommendation on what I consider to be a fair price. I’m sure there’s wiggle room to be had, seeing as you represent the sellers as well. Am I right?”
    “Of course!” Millicent readily agreed and plastered on her best saleswoman grin. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”
    “That’s good to know.” Olivia tapped on the Caddy’s hood as though giving Millicent permission to drive away. She then whistled for her poodle and strode to her Range Rover, casting one last glance at the house Harris longed to call his own.
    Inside her SUV, she noted the time on the dashboard clock and cursed. She was supposed to meet April Howard for a business lunch at Grumpy’s Diner to go over paint and carpet colors