Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

drink multiple martinis during the cocktail hour. I could hardly refuse the chocolate martini I was given for the initial toast, and then Shelley pressed something called a Snickertini into my hand and stood there while I drank it. I didn’t want to offend her on her big night and Michel would poison me at work tomorrow if I did anything to upset his beloved chocolatier, so down the hatch it went.”
    Laurel held up her hands. “No more talk of poisoning, strangling, or any other form of murder, please. I think we’ve had enough violence to last us several lifetimes. Besides, Michel would never turn on you. He’s the head chef in the most celebrated restaurant on the North Carolina coast and you own the place.”
    Gesturing around the desserterie, which was filled with Oyster Bay’s most influential townsfolk along with a dozen journalists and television personalities from out of state, Olivia shrugged. “The Boot Top can’t compete with an establishment serving every guest a dark chocolate shopping bag filled with white chocolate mousse. And did you see what Shelley used as a garnish? Sugared raspberries and a Decadence business card made of fondant. Incredible.”
    “No, you probably can’t compete with that. I guess you should be happy that Shelley doesn’t serve seafood or the Bayside Crab House would be in trouble too.”
    “Speaking of the Crab House, I should pick up some treats for my niece. I saw some starfish lollipops on the counter. Each one is made of raspberry-filled chocolate and costs more than an entire Happy Meal, but she’s worth it.”
    Laurel grinned. “It’s a good thing you’re an heiress. You could buy every last piece of candy in here if it took your fancy.”
    Olivia bristled. “Hey, I work as hard as the next person.”
    “You do. You spend all those hours between two restaurants and yet you stay so thin.” Laurel shook her head in disbelief. “How can you be around such exquisite food all day long and not weigh a million pounds? If I weren’t your friend, I’d really hate you. I still haven’t worked off the rest of my baby weight and the twins are almost four! Oh well, now’s not the time to count calories.” She popped a truffle into her mouth. “Look at Shelley. She’s sweet, beautiful, and clearly isn’t shy about sampling her wares. A woman with Shirley Temple dimples and Marilyn Monroe curves. No wonder Michel fell for her. Ah, here he comes now.”
    Michel was glowing. Olivia barely recognized him out of his white chef’s coat, but he cut a nice figure in his rented tux. “Can you get over my Shelley?” he asked, sitting next to Olivia and giving her a brotherly kiss on the cheek. “If I weren’t madly in love with her, I’d be desperately jealous. She’s got everyone under her spell. I told you she was an enchantress.”
    Olivia rolled her eyes. “Spare me, Michel. I’ve overindulged on tarts and cakes and bonbons and I can’t stand another ounce of sugary sweetness.”
    “Then you should try the spicy chile chocolate,” Michel suggested. “Or the bacon flavored.” Olivia gave him a dark look, but he was too jovial to notice. He and Laurel began to compare notes on their favorite treats, going into endless detail about the perfect balance between sea salt and bittersweet chocolate.
    “I’m going outside for some air.” Olivia took her water glass and headed for the kitchen. Without asking permission, she breezed through the swing doors into the narrow space, surprised to find it empty of both wait and cooking staff. Shelley had hired servers from a local catering company for her grand opening and they were all busy in the main room, but where was the dishwasher? An assistant pastry chef or sous chef?
    The kitchen was a mess. The sink was full of stainless steel bowls coated in dried caramel, jam, buttercream, and chocolate in every shade of brown. The remnants of crushed nuts, chopped fruit, and mint sprigs were strewn across the cutting board and every burner on the commercial stove was obscured by a dirty pot or sauté pan.
    “Shelley’s going to be up very late tonight,” she said, unable to stop herself from picking up a bag of flour that had toppled from the counter onto the floor. “She’s got to hire some full-time help.”
    Like many of the stores lining the streets of downtown Oyster Bay, Decadence had a small concrete patio out back where the merchants and their employees would take smoke or lunch breaks. Shelley had placed