The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

bagels along with a bag containing pints of flavored cream cheeses. “Is something wrong?”
    He gave the hint of a shrug and set the food offerings on a desk. Prying open the cardboard carrier filled with bagels, he gave them an appreciative sniff. “There’s been a little complication, but the chief’ll sort it out.”
    Olivia knew the men and women of the Oyster Bay Police Department had complete faith in Rawlings, but there was a pause in Cook’s voice that told her the case against the Vickers was not quite open and shut.
    “That witch shot my friend,” she said in a taut voice. “Please tell me she won’t get off on some technicality.”
    Cook blinked in surprise. “No, ma’am, we’ve got the both of them on multiple charges, just not the one the media’s gonna care about.”
    “Nick Plumley’s murder?”
    Having already confided more than he’d intended, Cook murmured something about bringing the bagels to the kitchen and hustled off.
    After calling Kim and receiving a lengthy update on both Caitlyn and Anders, Olivia took Haviland to the park and then tried to work on her novel, but even the comfortable din of Grumpy’s lunchtime crowd couldn’t encourage her muse. Finally, she snapped her laptop closed and decided to whittle down the mound of paperwork awaiting her at The Boot Top.
    At two o’clock, the restaurant was quiet. One of the sous-chefs was taking inventory, and he greeted her with a distracted wave of the hand before disappearing into the walk-in refrigerator. Olivia fixed herself a coffee, gave Haviland a bone, and settled down at her desk. She read e-mails, placed orders, and reviewed next week’s menu until the kitchen began to fill with the sounds of preparation.
    “Is it safe to enter your lair?” Michel asked after knocking lightly on the open door.
    Olivia turned down the volume of her computer speakers, and Beethoven’s Piano Trio in C minor faded to a whisper. “That depends. What’s going on between you and Laurel?”
    “Nothing shady,” he answered with a note of disappointment. “She’s an honorable woman. That bastard she married has no idea what a gem he had.”
    Olivia raised her brows. “Had? Laurel’s going to leave Steve?”
    Michel fidgeted with his watchband. “I don’t know. All she’ll tell me for certain is that he began treating her like dirt when she went back to work. Laurel thinks he’s having an affair. I know that a woman’s instincts are only truly understood by other females and the Almighty.” He glanced heavenward, shaking his head in awe. “But I have learned to respect them.”
    Scowling, Olivia put down her pen. “But she hasn’t confronted him, has she? Whenever things get unpleasant at home, she runs into your open arms instead. This Shakespearean crap is what you thrive on, Michel. Laurel isn’t like you. She has two little boys and, I hate to tell you this, but she’s still in love with her husband. You’re going to get hurt, Michel. You always do.” She reached for his hand. “The difference is that this time, the woman whose heart you’re playing with is my friend.” Olivia exhaled wearily. “This has to stop before Laurel does something she regrets.”
    “ Mon Dieu , how I wish she would!” Michel exclaimed and flounced from the office.
    “Is it cocktail time yet?” Olivia wondered aloud and then dialed the chief’s cell phone number. “You’re probably exhausted,” she said when he picked up. “But would you like to meet me for a drink?”
    Rawlings hesitated. “Do you want my company or are you just fishing for updates on the case?”
    “Both,” Olivia replied honestly. “Though I’d be glad to see you even if you refused to talk about anything but the weather.”
    “Liar.” Rawlings laughed. “But I accept. Your bar or mine?”
    “Gabe will pour more liberally than any other bartender in town,” was her answer. “Will you be off the clock or should he stock the bar with chocolate syrup?”
    “I’ll have what you’re having,” the chief said and told her to expect him in an hour or so.
    After making two more calls, one to Harris and the second to Hudson, Olivia took the cosmetic bag she kept in her desk drawer into the ladies’ room. As she combed through her white blond hair until it gleamed in the soft light of the wall sconces flanking the mirror and refreshed her lipstick, she thought of what a relief it was to know that Anders would be coming home in a week’s time to a more