The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

warning and then raised two fingers behind his back. Olivia didn’t know what he meant. Had Boyd and Cora separated or were they coming her way together?
    She quickly climbed over the porch rail and crouched down between the azalea bushes, listening hard. There were no more voices, just the creaks and moans of boards underfoot, barely perceptible beneath the drone of insects.
    “Where are you, Rawlings?” Olivia whispered. And then, before she knew what was happening, Millay was at her side.
    “Don’t bother telling me to get back in the car because I won’t,” she hissed fiercely. “What’s happening in there?”
    Olivia began to creep around the corner as Rawlings had done a few moments ago. “Boyd and Cora Vickers have Harris tied to a chair. They must believe his house contains more Heinrich Kamler paintings. And Cora has a gun.”
    Most women would have let out a whimper or gone wide-eyed in fear. Not Millay. She clenched her jaw and nodded. Olivia recognized that her friend would not cower before danger, nor would she back off, leaving Harris alone in a house with the couple that had likely murdered Nick Plumley.
    Suddenly, like a cannon boom, Chief Rawlings shouted at someone inside. “DROP YOUR WEAPON!” he commanded.
    Olivia and Millay ran to the kitchen door and eased it open. Millay reached into her boot and drew forth a switchblade. She crept into the living room and, without a trace of caution, rushed to Harris and began cutting through the duct tape and rope binding him to the chair.
    Harris tore the rope from his chest and swung around to say something to Millay, reaching out his hand to shove the chair between them aside, but he never got the chance. Cora burst into the room, her gun aimed straight at Millay’s heart.
    “Nick said that Evelyn’s two treasures were HERE!” She cried wildly, her eyes glittering. “In Oyster Bay! Tell me where the other painting is or she dies! NOW! ”
    And then Rawlings was in the doorway, his gun trained on Cora. She ignored him. Her eyes held a cold, predatory glimmer. Nothing existed for her other than the painting she believed was hidden somewhere in that house.
    “Don’t do it, Cora!” Boyd shouted from upstairs. “Just pick one of them to take with us and let’s go! There’s nothing here! ”
    Cora didn’t respond. Boyd continued to repeat himself from the stairway until his wife’s eyes lost a fraction of their mad light and she gestured at Millay with the revolver. “You’re coming with us.” Cora darted a sideways glance at Rawlings and spoke in chilly calm. “If you or your men follow us, I will shoot her. I’ve got nothing to lose now.”
    “Sure you do,” Rawlings answered conversationally as he lowered his gun. “You’ve got a Heinrich Kamler original. And maybe some cash and an unpublished manuscript from a bestselling author. That’s got to be worth something to someone, right?”
    “Shut up, cop.” Cora gesticulated at Millay again, but Harris stepped in front of her.
    “If you want a hostage, you’re going to have to take me.”
    “Look at the little hero,” Cora sneered. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Chief . Yeah, we’ve got a painting that’ll be impossible to sell, but it should’ve been ours anyway. Nick screwed me out of the money he owed me, and he was supposed to get the damned thing himself and give it to me, but then he went and got himself killed. We didn’t do the deed and we don’t have his damned book. We just want what we’re owed, got it?”
    Rawlings nodded in understanding. “You had a hold over Nick. You chose to honeymoon in Beaufort because your ex-husband lived there and it was time for him to give you a regularly scheduled payment, wasn’t it? But he didn’t deliver.”
    “No, he didn’t ‘deliver,’” Cora mocked the chief. “But he would have eventually. He’s no good to us dead. His measly life insurance payout isn’t going to last us long. We need our regular payments. We’ve got plans. Big ones. But stupid Nick screwed everything up.” She was practically snarling. “Okay, that’s enough chitchat. Kick your gun to Boyd, Chief, and get the hell out of our way.”
    “Sure,” Rawlings said agreeably and gave his weapon a gentle shove with his shoe. Boyd, who had appeared at the foot of the stairs, picked it up and, after sending Cora a brief, nervous look, held the gun inexpertly in a wobbly grip. Olivia sensed that he wouldn’t even