The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

Dixie and her husband were among them, and Olivia had made special arrangements with her friend. In other words, she’d asked Dixie to be curt, picky, and demanding.
    “Test their mettle,” Olivia had told her bemused friend over the phone. “Request extra lemon wedges and butter sauce and send back a dish because it doesn’t taste right. Spill your wine and complain about spots on the flatware. I want to know that they can handle belligerent customers.”
    Dixie had been delighted by both the assignment and the chance to share a free seafood feast with Grumpy. “If you really want to see what your employees are made of, let me bring my kids. You’ll get yourself a pack of fussy eaters, a whole lotta extra noise, and crab claws a-flyin’ every which way. Your poor waiter might just quit before dessert.”
    “I love the idea, Dixie. Most of the tourists will have families in tow, and some of them may very well be boisterous or superfinicky.” Olivia had grinned. “Tell your brood to let loose.”
    “You do not know what you’re sayin’, ’Livia, but for the record, I’m not responsible for the dischargin’ of fire extinguishers or any structural damage,” Dixie had stated seriously before hanging up.
    Now, standing in the hospital’s lobby, Olivia tried to convince her brother to forget about the restaurant and focus on his family, but no matter what she said, he refused to take a week off to be with his wife and daughter. She knew fear kept him from making the right decision. Not only did Hudson fear his newborn son’s fragility, but he was clearly terrified that the restaurant would fail and he’d have moved his family to Oyster Bay for nothing. And though Olivia understood both fears, she still chastised him for putting his job ahead of his family. He stood firm though.
    Eventually, he did accept the key card but made no move to return to his wife’s room. “I know what I’m doing in the kitchen,” he muttered miserably. “I belong there.”
    An image of Anders’ little face, his translucent skin covering the rivers of blue veins carrying fresh blood from his newly stitched heart flashed through Olivia’s mind. She narrowed her eyes in anger. “You belong with your son. And with your wife. It’s probably killing her that she can’t be at that baby’s side. You might not know how to handle this, but you’re going to figure it out. You’re a father to two children, so start acting like one.” Her tone allowed no argument. She handed him a slip of paper. “That’s the combination to the hotel room’s wall safe. If Kim and Caitlyn are going to live there for the next two weeks, I want them to be comfortable.” Her brother looked so terrified that she relented a little and gave his thick shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow, after you get back from driving your family to their temporary home.”
    Nodding in compliance, Hudson grabbed her hand and clung to it for a moment before walking away.
    Olivia watched him go, imagining how tomorrow morning would pass for the Salters. Kim would be taken by wheelchair to the hospital’s front door. She’d climb out of the chair, the pain in her belly from her cesarean forcing her to cringe, and get into Hudson’s car. She’d sit in the back, holding her daughter and comforting her as she and Hudson spoke of the future. Kim would try to keep everyone’s spirits up while silently noting the passing of every mile marker, her hands clenched in impatience as the distance closed between her and her tiny son.
    “Enough with the maudlin imagery,” Olivia chided herself, got back in the Range Rover, and headed for the office park east of town.
    Harris worked in a three-story concrete box that was completely unremarkable except for the Yoda replica in the lobby. The green-skinned, elfin-eared Jedi rested on a podium in the middle of a fountain surrounded by tropical plants. He welcomed visitors with a wise and wrinkled gaze and a plaque bearing the company logo.
    Olivia glanced at the statue in puzzlement and then turned her attention to the young receptionist who was jotting a message onto a pink memo pad. She recognized the girl’s pretty face immediately.
    “Hi, Estelle.”
    Estelle beamed as though the very sight of Olivia had made her day. “How nice to see you here! And your cute doggie came too! Are you visiting Harris?” Her words tumbled forth rapid-fire, every syllable infused with a shrill energy. Before