The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

like the mews of a kitten. Olivia wondered if these miniscule infants would all make it, and the thought redoubled her fear and discomfort.
    “Jesus,” Olivia breathed.
    Nurse Love put a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, I do believe our Lord and Savior pays special attention to these little ones. Come on, you’re not the only person who’s been scared to death by the NICU. Look at it this way. Most of these babies just decided to move up their arrival dates. They’re not fat and pink like the full-term ones, but they will be soon enough.” She stopped in front of an incubator bearing a paper sign that read, “Salter, K.”
    Olivia had exhaled slowly. Here he was, the child that had been taken from her sister-in-law’s womb mere hours ago and had spent the first day of his life in an operating room instead of cradled in his mother’s arms. Olivia reached her fingers toward the letters of the baby’s name, and then hastily withdrew them.
    “My daughter tells people that babies are brought here to finish cooking,” Nurse Love had said with a quiet chuckle. “Look at Anders. He weighs over seven pounds. In here, that makes him a giant. He’s going to do great.”
    Olivia had forced her gaze down to the still form of her nephew. He slept on his back, arms splayed wide, eyes closed. Like most of the babies in the room, his body was connected to a network of tubes and wires, and Olivia’s heart ached at the sight.
    “You can put your hand in that hole if you want to touch him.” Nurse Love had pointed at the side of the incubator.
    Olivia had been astounded that she really did want to reach out, to make a physical connection with the little being in his nest of white cotton. Timidly, she’d stretched her fingers forward, touching the blanket lining the incubator and then, the skin of her nephew’s arm. She stared at his small fingers, noticing the long and nearly transparent fingernails. They reminded her of dragonfly wings.
    “Oh, my God,” she murmured, her eyes filling with tears.
    Nurse Love had sighed at the scene. “I never get tired of watching people do that for the first time.”
    The women fell silent, wordlessly observing the rapid rise and fall of Anders’ chest.
    “I’m ready to go now,” Olivia had whispered. “I can’t do anything for him.”
    “You already did,” the nurse had assured her. “You were here. On some level, through some wonderful and mysterious means, he knows it too.”
    Brushing the moisture from her cheeks, Olivia had cast one more glance at her sleeping nephew and hurriedly left the ward.
    After calling Kim with the news that Anders’ surgery had been a success and that he was resting peacefully in the care of a team of skilled doctors and nurses, Olivia had driven over to the closest hotel offering suites with kitchens and paid in advance for a two-week stay. “I need a list of area restaurants that make deliveries,” she told the manager. She then drove to the nearest grocery store, where she bought a cartload of food and sundries, including several coloring books and Barbie dolls, and put everything away in the suite. Lastly, she placed a few hundred dollars in cash in the room’s safe.
    It was her intention to bring Kim the room key when she was released from the hospital in two days’ time. Kim had already informed her that Hudson refused to shirk his duties at The Bayside Crab House during its first weekend in operation, so she and Caitlyn would stay in Greenville until Anders could go home.
    Olivia had pointed out that the assistant chefs could handle the grand opening but was honestly relieved to know that Hudson would be in the kitchen later that weekend.
    Now, in her dark bedroom, Olivia tried to relax, but failed.
    “If I don’t get some sleep tonight,” she spoke to Haviland, “it won’t matter how many chefs are in the kitchen. I’ve got to bring my A game to tomorrow’s staff meeting.” Olivia thumped the space on the bed beside her. “Come here, Captain. Chase those hospital images away, would you?”
    Haviland jumped onto the bed, licked her cheek, and snuggled against her, sighing contentedly. As Olivia listened to him breathe, the sights and sounds of the tiny babies in the NICU finally released their hold on her.
    The next morning, she stood with coffee cup in hand and listened to her messages. There were half a dozen calls pertaining to Friday’s grand opening, one from Harris asking what she’d discovered at the art museum,