Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

The other residents were older couples who rarely ventured over the uneven dunes, so she usually had the run of the beach.
    Today, Olivia was happily alone again. With the exception of a few scuttling crabs and waterfowl, the shoreline was deserted. She walked until the lighthouse shrank behind her and then switched on her Bounty Hunter Discovery 3300. Adjusting the headphones, she slowed her pace and listened to the device’s familiar clicks, whirrs, and beeps.
    The mechanical conversation was one-sided, but Olivia found it comforting. For an hour, she could shut out the rest of the world and focus on the warmth of the sun on her shoulders, the kiss of the breeze on her face, and the flashes from her metal detector’s display.
    She was just about to stop for a breakfast break when the machine alerted her to the presence of precious metal. Easing her pack to the ground, she removed a sieve and a trench shovel and called for Haviland.
    “Time to dig, Captain!”
    The poodle bounded out of the surf, shook himself thoroughly, and trotted over to join Olivia.
    According to her Bounty Hunter, the metal object wasn’t buried deep, so she only dug out a few shovelfuls of sand before using her hands to scoop piles of it into the sieve. Haviland, who was well trained in the art of searching for small items, dug slowly and deliberately with his front paws, pausing every now and then to sniff the edges of the expanding hole.
    Less than ten minutes later, something rattled around in the sieve.
    “What do we have here?” Olivia asked, brushing the sand away from surface of a thumbnail-sized piece of yellow gold. Unable to recognize the shape, she walked to the water, bent down, and washed off her find.
    “Looks like a pendant,” she told Haviland, drawing the piece of jewelry closer to her face. An androgynous, curly haired angel reached its arms out to hold on to a sphere. The top of the sphere was fashioned into a loop, but the pendant’s chain was no longer attached.
    Olivia ran her fingertip over the cherublike child’s face and then realized that a second pair of hands was fastened to the sphere. These hands were identical to the first, and she assumed that another angel, a mirror image of the first, had broken off.
    Wondering if the pendant had belonged to best friends, sisters, or a pair of twins, Olivia studied the lone angel, feeling inexplicably sad that it had lost its other half.
    Sighing, she slipped the piece of jewelry into her pocket and took the peach out of her backpack. Returning the trench shovel and sieve to the bag, she switched the metal detector off, and turned toward home.
    The peach was ripe and delicious. She bit into it and sticky juice ran down her chin. For a moment, the fruit’s sweetness was marred as Olivia thought about Willis Locklear and how he would never eat a peach again. He wouldn’t walk on the beach or see a sunset or dive into the cool water. Such simple pleasures were beyond his reach.
    Olivia wallowed in these morbid thoughts until she stepped into the shadow cast by the lighthouse. She looked at the cozy keeper’s cottage and remembered that she hadn’t finished editing Sawyer’s chapter, which would be up for review that evening.
    Shoving the granola bar into her pocket, she turned to Haviland and said, “I’d rather have blueberry pancakes anyway. Are you up for breakfast at Grumpy’s?”
    Haviland barked his assent and Olivia had no doubt that the poodle was envisioning a plate piled high with plump sausages and thick strips of bacon.
    Without bothering to change out of her loose linen pants or faded navy T-shirt, Olivia drove into town and skillfully maneuvered the Range Rover into a tight spot between two minivans. Commandeering her favorite window booth, she took her laptop from its case and waved at Dixie.
    Dixie skated over, her purple and blue tutu bobbing like a buoy. She kissed Haviland on the nose and then gave Olivia an assessing stare. “You’ve got bags under your eyes. Good Lord, ’Livia, tell the chief to ease off a bit. You gotta get
some
sleep!”
    “I was alone last night, thank you very much,” Olivia growled. “How about some coffee?”
    “Right away, your highness,” Dixie retorted and zipped off, her tutu flouncing in indignation. Haviland watched her disappear into the kitchen, his mouth curved into a smile and his eyes hopeful.
    When Dixie returned carrying a carafe of her wonderful coffee and a clean mug, Olivia apologized to her