Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

anger to wash over her. Her fingers curled into fists as she stared and stared at the image of a man who’d walked the earth for at least eight decades.
    And then she began to cry.
    She cried because Willis Locklear would never have the chance to attain such a beautiful, timeworn face.

Chapter 10
    If only. Those must be the saddest words in the world.
    —M ERCEDES L ACKEY
    T he news of Willis’s death moved from tent to tent like electricity, rocking the Lumbee tribe to the core.
    Olivia watched people leave their booths, moving with the hesitant gait of those who don’t want to believe what they’ve been told. Holding on to each other’s hands, they slowly made their way to the place where Willis had collapsed. It looked like some invisible force was pulling them to the spot and Olivia felt compelled to follow.
    The Lumbee made a loose circle around the patch of grass where Willis had fallen, crying quietly and shaking their heads over the senselessness of his passing. Men and women of all ages seemed to be waiting for someone to explain what had happened. A hundred pairs of dark eyes cast about for an authority figure, for someone to calm and assure them. But no one came. No one had any answers.
    Finally, the park ranger Rawlings had spoken with earlier came forward and addressed the distraught group. He told them that there were no updates from the hospital regarding the cause of death and that it might be hours before that information was released to Talley. He advised them to return to their respective booths.
    “I realize what a horrible shock this is . . .” he began and then stopped, uncertain of what else to say. He put his palm on his walkie-talkie, perhaps wishing a more competent voice would emit from the speaker and release him from his unpleasant task.
    At that moment, the middle-aged man who’d been talking to Willis prior to Talley’s performance appeared, his fair skin looking nearly translucent with shock. A portly man dressed in a white polo shirt and pressed slacks walked by his side, dabbing at his cheeks and forehead with a blue handkerchief. He was older than the first man by ten years and the crowd immediately fell silent, waiting for him to speak. He thanked the park ranger and held his hands out as if to embrace the entire assemblage.
    “My dear friends, I’ve heard the terrible news,” he said in a languid drawl tinged with sadness. “Judson and I will go ahead to the hospital and get some answers. I know you’re torn to bits by this awful, awful thing, as are Judson and I. There’s nothing I can say to lessen your heartbreak, but Willis would want this celebration to go on. He loved days like these. Am I right?”
    There was a murmuring of agreement. “That boy was one of the finest dancers I’ve ever laid eyes on,” the man continued. “But the rest of those excellent performers are here in front of me. Dance for him today, folks. Make his spirit smile.”
    Olivia wondered if the speaker was a tribal elder, but he was as blue eyed and fair skinned as the man named Judson. The two men began to walk away and Olivia and Haviland rushed after them.
    “Excuse me!” she called, causing both men to turn. “I’m Olivia Limoges. Willis worked for me,” she said breathlessly.
    “We’ve heard of you, of course. Willis was thrilled when he was hired to work at your restaurant. Fletcher Olsen, at your service.” The man in the pink shirt held out his hand. “And this is Judson Ware, my associate.”
    Judson stepped forward and Olivia squeezed his hand, moved by the grief she saw in his face. He gave Haviland a sad smile but didn’t speak.
    “The Olsen law firm has represented members of the Lumbee tribe for over seventy years. We attend all the powwows.” Fletcher mopped his forehead again. “Never has this celebration been marred by such a tragedy. Willis was a fine young man.”
    “I can’t wrap my head around it,” Olivia said in a low voice and then turned to Judson. “I saw you and Willis talking before Talley’s show. Did he seem okay to you then?”
    Judson nodded. “He was the same exuberant Willis I’ve known since he was a kid. He was smoking more than usual. Said he’d been through a whole pack already, but I guess he’d been on edge over an argument he’d had at the other campground.”
    An argument? Olivia felt the air rush out of her lungs. She could already picture the face of Willis’s enemy. “With whom?”
    “He said the fellow was his