Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

muttered and moved on to the next school.
    From his spot on the floor, Haviland yawned, stretched, and nudged Olivia in the thigh, indicating his need to be let outside. They headed through the kitchen and opened the back door to find Noah and one of the sous-chefs in deep conversation.
    Noah turned to Olivia and exclaimed, “This man is a treasure! We’re going to have to expand this segment to include his story.” He pointed at Olivia. “I need you at the bar in five.”
    Noah disappeared and the sous-chef, whose name was Willis Locklear, peered at his employer from beneath long dark lashes. He seemed embarrassed by the director’s interest and quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a loose brick near the door. “Sorry, Ms. Limoges.”
    She waved off the apology. “Don’t be silly. I know you haven’t been with us long, but Michel said you’d bring something unique to the kitchen staff. I guess Mr. Wiseman saw it too.”
    Willis shrugged, his young face relaxing. “I’m part Lumbee Indian. I was telling Mr. Wiseman that Michel let me have time off to do a Native American cooking presentation at the festival this weekend and now that director guy wants me to talk about how my Lumbee background adds flavor to this kitchen. On camera.”
    Olivia watched Haviland trot behind the shrubbery lining the parking lot
.
“Isn’t your tribe having a major celebration at the national forest?”
    He nodded, his dark eyes filled with eagerness. “Yeah, a powwow. Good thing I’ve got most of Friday and all of Saturday off. We’re gonna have dancing and stories and cool music. And food, of course. My sister is setting up a craft tent and I’m going to help her out.” He flashed Olivia a quick smile. “You should come. Our site isn’t too far from where you’ll be judging, and if you’ve never hung around a bunch of Lumbee before, then you don’t what fun is.”
    Was I ever this young and full of life?
Olivia wondered silently, listening as Willis described his tribal costume. “I’ve never been to a powwow, but how could I resist after hearing you describe it? My friends and I will head over to your part of the forest as soon as we’re done at the food festival.”
    The door to the kitchen opened and Candice emerged into the bright sunlight. “Ms. Limoges, we’re ready for you. Melanie will do your hair and makeup while I prep you for the interview.”
    It took over an hour for Olivia to respond to Noah’s questions to his satisfaction. She refused to discuss anything about her past other than that she’d spent the first ten years of her life in Oyster Bay and had returned nearly three decades later to move within sight of her childhood home and open The Boot Top Bistro. Her affection for the town and its people shone through most clearly when she spoke of the area fishermen and farmers, the local merchants, and the Bayside Book Writers.
    Once the filming was complete, she thanked Noah and the crew and escaped to her office. It was finally Michel’s turn to strut his stuff. Knowing her head chef would be preparing some of the best dishes of his career and that Noah wanted to capture real patrons enjoying Michel’s fine cuisine, Olivia had decided to keep The Boot Top’s regular hours. Last week, she’d told the hostess taking reservations to alert future diners about the presence of a television crew. As a result, the reservation book had been filled days ago.
    “I have a waiting list a mile long,” the pretty hostess said when Olivia emerged from her office. “We could have charged our customers double for this meal. They’re all dying to be on TV.”
    Olivia shook her head, perplexed. “I will never understand the allure of reality shows.” Then she grinned and tapped the reservation book. “But I love a full ledger and am over the moon with the menu Michel’s chosen for tonight. He’ll dazzle them all.”
    She walked into the kitchen to watch Michel in action and saw a cameraman waiting to zoom in on the first entrée. Michel slid a filet of cornmeal-crusted flounder from a sizzling frying pan onto a pool of lemon mustard sauce. He then drizzled more sauce on top and garnished the dish with clover sprouts and twisted slivers of lemon.
    “More entrées!” Noah mouthed and Willis rushed forward balancing three dinner plates. Olivia smiled in pleasure as she watched the sous-chef present a filet of beef sautéed in white wine and rosemary, Thai spareribs, and shrimp paella. He quickly