Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

guy.”
    “And you work harder than a dozen lawyers put together.” Annette gave Judson an affectionate pat with her right hand. And that’s when Olivia noticed the chief’s ring.
    It was gold and had a bright green stone and block letters encircling the stone.
    Olivia leaned over to sip from her coffee cup and stole a glance at the lettering. She could see only the first half of the school’s name, but it was enough.
    The tribal chair had gone to Littleton High.
    Her ring matched the one on the memory jug.
    Thinking furiously on how to broach the subject, Olivia watched Fletcher return to the table. He didn’t sit, but tore open a sugar packet and poured it into a take-out cup.
    Olivia nearly gasped when she noticed the wink of gold on his right hand.
    Fletcher Olsen also wore a class ring from Littleton High.
    It’s like we’ve stumbled on some secret society,
Olivia thought, recalling the strange looks passing between Annette and Fletcher. The tension in Judson’s fingertips.
But what do they want to keep secret?

Chapter 13
    The heart will break, but broken live on.
    —L ORD B YRON
    “W e’d better move along,” Fletcher said. He hadn’t returned to his seat after getting his refill and his closed expression made it clear that he wasn’t interested in prolonging their conversation.
    Annette quickly agreed. “Yes, there’s so much to do before the parade begins.”
    “If I could just ask you both one more question,” Olivia said. “It concerns the Battle of Hayes Pond. Willis told me that the Lumbee will be celebrating their victory at today’s powwow. Is that right?”
    The chief’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled proudly. “We certainly are. There’ll be storytelling, dancing, and we’re presenting special medals to the tribe members who were there that day.”
    “Wow,” Harris breathed. “I’d love to watch that.”
    “I was curious about the tribe’s interaction with the Klan in the years following that event,” Olivia continued as if Harris hadn’t spoken. “But when I broached the subject with Willis, he got very quiet. It seemed to upset him. Can you tell me why?”
    Judson raised a finger. “I can. After his mom died, Willis became the head of the family. Talley was still in high school and Willis was taking classes at Robeson Community College when their house was vandalized.” He stopped, clearly unwilling to elaborate, but Millay wasn’t going to let him off that easy.
    “What was it? Graffiti? Racial slurs?”
    Fletcher put a hand on Judson’s shoulder and the paralegal immediately fell silent. “Oh, it was more like baseball bats to the mailbox and that sort of thing,” the attorney said breezily. “Probably a bunch of kids testing their limits. They’ll do anything to be on YouTube. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to get going.”
    “Of course.” Olivia stood up. “I hope you’ll forgive me for prying. It’s just bothering me that I might have contributed to Willis’s stress level yesterday by bringing up the KKK.” She lowered her voice. “He looked scared when I mentioned the subject. Like he’d been recently frightened. Was he being threatened? Was someone out to do him harm?”
    Fletcher’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Are you suggesting murder?”
    Annette sucked in a quick breath, her eyes going wide. “That’s ridiculous. We know what happened to him!”
    Olivia couldn’t help but wonder why Fletcher had brought up the idea of murder, but now that he had, the word hung in the air like a thundercloud, robbing the space of light and conversation.
    The chief put both hands on the table and pushed herself out of her chair. With trembling fingers, she reached for the purse hanging from the back of her chair. Catching it by one handle, she tipped it forward and its contents spilled out onto the hardwood floor.
    “Let me help you.” Laurel jumped out of her seat and began to pick up pens, a glasses case, a set of keys, and a tin of mints. “What time should we meet you at Talley’s booth?”
    An orange pill bottle rolled under Olivia’s chair. She bent over and closed her fingers around it. Giving the label a cursory glance, she saw the name “A. Stevens” and the word “olanzapine” before returning the bottle to Annette.
    “No more caffeine for me today.” Annette issued a hollow laugh and handed Laurel a sheet of paper. “This is a map of the booths. I circled Talley’s. The woman selling quilts in the next booth has