The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

peaceful town. Tomorrow afternoon Laurel would take Olivia shopping for the best baby gear money could buy.
    How she wished Rawlings would tell her that the case was closed, leaving Olivia to concentrate on her family members and her new business. More importantly, she could finally prove to Rawlings that she was ready to have a relationship with him. She dabbed fragrant droplets of Shalimar onto the nape of her neck and the inside of both wrists, suddenly struck by the realization that whether the murderer was apprehended or not had little to do with her desire to be with Rawlings. She needn’t conceal her feelings for him because the case was still open.
    Seeing the glimmer of expectation in her eyes, Olivia gave her reflection a self-conscious grin and then headed to the bar.
    Gabe began making her drink immediately. When Rawlings walked in, the barkeep welcomed the chief and gestured at the rows of shining bottles lined up behind the bar. “What’s your pleasure, Chief?”
    “Same as the lady, please.” Rawlings ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair and sighed. “You’d better give me three fingers instead of two, Gabe. It’s been that kind of day.”
    Olivia and Rawlings took their drinks and withdrew to one of the bar’s intimate tables and clinked glasses.
    “I feel better already,” Rawlings said before taking a sip. “Just seeing you.”
    “That shows just how tired you are,” she teased. “Harris is doing well, by the way. Millay’s been texting me with regular reports, and I talked to him about an hour ago. He sounds almost happy to have been shot.”
    With a wry grin, Rawlings said, “Hey, if it gets you the girl . . .”
    Their eyes met and they both smiled over the rims of their glasses. A waitress materialized and put down a plate of bruschetta with fresh basil and diced tomatoes as well as a small platter containing a round of baked Brie encircled by olives. Rawlings stared at the food but didn’t reach for any of it.
    “The Vickers did not kill Nick Plumley,” he said solemnly. “The woman who owns their rental cottage inadvertently provided them with an alibi for the morning in question. Their credit card was declined the day before and she’d spoken to them about an alternate means of payment. They promised to have cash for her by the end of their wedding day on Wednesday but failed to give her any. By Thursday, she was concerned that the couple would try to skip out without taking care of their bill.” He sliced through the soft Brie with a cheese knife. “We’re not talking about small change here either. The landlady had taken care of all the arrangements for their marriage ceremony. Between the food, the photographer, and the rental house, they owe her a few thousand.”
    Olivia whistled. “So she went knocking on the door of their honeymoon suite the morning after they got married. Whoa.”
    Rawlings colored. “She stopped by several times but no one ever answered. Finally, she just let herself in and found Mr. and Mrs. Vickers in a rather, ah, compromising position. Mr. Vickers yelled at her to get lost and she was flustered enough to do just that.” He took a bite of bruschetta and rolled his eyes in delight. “Delicious.”
    “The poor woman,” Olivia said with a laugh. “Not only is she out a few grand but she got an eyeful too.”
    Nodding, the chief’s good humor quickly evaporated. “She was hoping that by telling me about the incident I could help recover her losses, but she ended up aiding the Vickers. They now have a solid alibi for the morning of Mr. Plumley’s murder.”
    “But they are guilty of shooting Harris and of breaking and entering into more than one home. They stole the painting from my kitchen, right?”
    “The Vickers have confessed to those crimes, yes. Thankfully, the painting was unharmed. I’ve got it in my office.”
    Olivia hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she let it go. “I was so worried about Harris that I forgot all about the watercolor.”
    “As you should, considering all that’s happened.” Rawlings fell silent for a moment. He placed food on a small plate and handed it to Olivia and then fixed one for himself. They ate quietly for a little while, enjoying the creamy cheese, the crisp bread seasoned with garlic and olive oil, and each other’s company. “Mrs. Vickers told me something else,” the chief said sotto voce. “Something I’m only going to share with you because I trust