The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

tell anyone about that. April isn’t looking for handouts.”
    The bells above the diner door tinkled and a man wearing a pale blue blazer strolled in. Both women recognized the logo on the nametag pinned to his lapel. Engraved with a beach house, a lone wave, and the words “Bayside Realty,” the tag indicated that Randall McGraw had come to Grumpy’s to meet with a prospective client. He headed straight for Nick Plumley’s booth and, after shaking the author’s hand, pulled a sheet of paper from a yellow folder bearing the realty’s name and placed it reverently on the table.
    Dixie and Olivia exchanged curious glances.
    “What are you waiting for?” Olivia hissed. “Get those wheels spinning! I’m dying to know which property he’s looking at.”
    With a toss of her bleach blond pigtail braids, Dixie zipped over to Nick’s table, held out the order pad she only pretended to use, as she’d never forgotten an order in her life, and beamed at the real estate agent. She then took her time clearing Nick’s plate and finally skated into the kitchen.
    Before Dixie had the chance to report back to Olivia, Nick was pulling bills from his wallet. He collected the sheaf of paper from the Realtor, folded it in half, and left the booth. Instead of exiting the diner, however, he walked right up to Haviland and stopped.
    “Your companion is beautiful. Male or female?” he asked Olivia, his eyes on the poodle.
    “His name is Captain Haviland,” Olivia answered. “No need to be shy. He’s extremely friendly.”
    The author extended his hand, palm up, and Haviland immediately offered him his right paw in return.
    “I miss having a dog,” Nick said wistfully. “But I travel so much and it wouldn’t be fair to leave a pet in someone else’s care all the time.”
    Olivia grinned, for Nick had given her just the opening she needed to satisfy her curiosity. She gestured at the man in the blazer who was pouring sugar into a glass of iced tea. “It looks like you might be thinking about staying in one place for a while.”
    The writer adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “I’m renting a place at the moment, but I’d like to put down roots here. I have ties to Oyster Bay, and I believe I can achieve a level of anonymity in this town that I’ve yet to find in other places.”
    Playing dumb, Olivia cocked her head. “Should I recognize you?”
    Nick laughed, and attractive crinkles formed at the corners of his mouth and eyes. “That’ll bring me down a peg.” He extended his hand. “I’m Nick Plumley, author and dog lover at your service.”
    Olivia was pleased that his handshake was firm and that his eyes held a smile as he asked for her name.
    “I knew who you were,” Olivia confessed after introducing herself. “Still, I couldn’t resist giving you a hard time. Consider it one of our new-resident initiation rites.”
    “As long as you don’t shave my eyebrows while I sleep,” Nick replied smoothly and took a seat across from Olivia. “It’s taken me years to perfect this arch.”
    The pair began exchanging ideas for other pranks when one of the public school librarians entered the diner. She stopped just inside the door and scanned the room. When she saw Nick, her eyes widened and she scurried over to the window booth, clutching a hardcover against her chest.
    “I am so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Plumley.” Her voice was an animated whisper. “But when I heard you were here, in our little diner , I had to rush right over. I am such a big fan. This book—” She gently eased the novel away from her body and touched the cover with reverence. “I thought of those German soldiers as my own brothers. Now that is skillful character development, to make me empathize with Nazis when I lost two uncles to that war.”
    My, but Dixie got the word out fast . What’s she doing? Sending out tweets about the diner’s guest? Olivia wondered, watching the author’s reaction over having failed to avoid his celebrity status.
    Nick Plumley opened his mouth to thank the elderly librarian, but she didn’t give him the opportunity. “And the murder scene ! Utterly chilling. I researched the actual events, of course. We even had the son of one of the Nazi prison camp guards speak at the school’s annual fund-raiser.” She glanced behind her as though the rest of the diners were hanging on her every word. “If you’re working on the sequel, you should interview him. He says he remembers all kinds