The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

Sawyer what you’re letting me see and he’ll never let you go again.” She raised a finger in warning. “But don’t you mess around with his heart, Olivia. I might be a plump, God-fearing wife and mother, but I’ll tear you to pieces with my bare hands if you hurt him.”
    Olivia believed her. “I read you loud and clear. He’s lucky to have such a devoted sister.”
    Jeannie shrugged, merriment instantly returning to her round cheeks. “Trust me, I wasn’t always nice to him. He did some terrible things to my doll collection, and I held that against him for years.” She smiled. “Word has it that you have a brother too.”
    “Hudson. He and his wife, Kim, and their daughter, Caitlyn, all live here now. And they just had a baby. A boy named Anders.” Olivia felt a pang when she spoke his name. She had an inexplicable urge to get in the car and drive to Greenville, to see the infant’s little face and to watch the steady rise and fall of his small chest. Instead, she silently vowed to call Kim first thing in the morning.
    “Whatever it is, the child’ll be just fine,” Jeannie said, correctly sensing Olivia’s anxiety. “Babies are tougher than they look.” A movement near the hostess podium caught her attention. “There’s my gang, waiting on me as usual.” She patted Olivia’s hand. “You take care.”
    Olivia watched as Jeannie’s husband slid an arm around her waist and kissed her several times on the brow and then once on the lips. Their teenage children followed behind, looking both embarrassed and protected by their father’s open display of affection.
    When they’d gone, the emptiness of the restaurant resonated around Olivia. It was only when the waitstaff turned up the lights in the dining room and set about their closing tasks that Olivia was able to shake off her stupor and head through the swinging doors to greet Haviland.
    In the kitchen, the sous-chefs weren’t exchanging their usual insults and lighthearted banter. Instead, they were strangely silent. The dishwasher’s banging and splashing reverberated against metal pans and mixing bowls, and no one looked up when she approached.
    Olivia paused, glancing from her office door, which was closed, to the sous-chefs. They wouldn’t meet her inquisitive gaze, but their hands betrayed their feelings, straying to twist water from a dishrag or to diligently polish an already gleaming knife blade.
    Without bothering to knock, Olivia threw open the door to her office and let out an involuntary gasp.
    There was Michel, one arm wrapped around a woman’s back, his free hand stroking her wheat blond hair. Her face was buried in the chef’s neck, and though Olivia couldn’t quite hear the words she whispered, the raw desire behind them was clear enough, tainting the air with a heady, cloying perfume like that of a million jasmine blossoms opening at once.
    Haviland bounded up from his position on the floor and gave Olivia a toothy smile. She reached for him and, at the same time, found her voice.
    “Laurel Hobbs! What the hell is going on here?”

Chapter 12
    Life is not significant details, illuminated by a flash, fixed forever. Photographs are.
    —SUSAN SONTAG

    O livia twirled the Mercury dime on the tabletop, watching it reflect splinters of morning light onto the Formica. It winked like a buoy on the water until bumping into the edge of her coffee cup and then clattering to a stop. She picked up the dime and sent it spinning once again.
    “Are we borin’ you?” Dixie asked, indicating the half-empty diner with her hand. “See Mr. Jeffries? The cute little man at the Evita booth? He’s been lookin’ for an excuse to sing ‘Mr. Mistoffelees’ ever since I can remember. Should I tell him you’d like nothin’ better than to hear your favorite song from Cats ?”
    “Not if you value your life,” Olivia threatened and then sighed. “And I’m not bored, just impatient.” She tapped on her cell phone, which sat on the center of the table alongside her coffee cup. “I’m waiting for two calls. One from Greenville and the other from Chapel Hill. I was hoping to have been on the road by now, but my damned phone refuses to ring.”
    Dixie climbed into the booth opposite Olivia and stretched out her short legs on the surface of the red vinyl cushion. “Oh, that feels good. I’ve been skatin’ my ass off since five thirty.” She glanced at her purple Swatch. “This is late for you to be eatin’ breakfast. And no