Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

still a Locklear who’ll live to see the casino’s success.”
    Millay rose to her feet, her dark eyes ablaze. “She’d damned well better live.” She gestured at Harris, Laurel, and Olivia. “We need to look at those memory jug pieces and solve Munin’s riddle. Now. We can’t sit around and wait for this maniac to strike again.” She then pointed at Rawlings and Poole. “The rest is on you two. Protect and serve. Keep Talley safe and find the bastard who did this to her.” And with that, she shoved her chair backward with such force that it toppled over.
    Ignoring the overturned furniture, Millay strode from the room.
    Sherriff Poole raised a shaggy eyebrow and looked at Rawlings. “Are all the women from Oyster Bay that feisty?”
    “They most certainly are,” Rawlings said and met Olivia’s gaze. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter 16
    Fiction is the truth inside the lie.
    —S TEPHEN K ING
    F ollowing her departure from the waiting room, Millay had tried to bully her way into seeing Talley, but she was firmly rebuffed by the duty nurse and told to come back during visiting hours the following morning.
    “I need to check in at home before we reconvene for our critique session,” Laurel said after glancing at her watch. “Are we still meeting tonight?”
    “It’s a waste of time to talk about my dumb book when all of this is going on,” Millay muttered. “Why don’t we focus on the memory jug instead?”
    Olivia steered Millay toward the exit. “We will. Over supper. After that, it’s back to the business of critiquing. You’re almost done with your novel, Millay. You’re the closest of all of us to beginning the agent query process. Don’t give up on your book now.”
    Harris slung an arm around Millay’s shoulders and sniffed her neck. “You need a shower anyway. You smell like funnel cake, fried fish, and sausage grease. Personally, I find it very attractive, but the rest of—”
    Millay walloped Harris in the gut, preventing him from further speech. Over her head, he winked at Olivia and Laurel and then pretended to stumble out of the ER.
    Rawlings promised to show up for the critique session if he could, but he was intent on obtaining blood samples from Munin and Talley to see if they were related, and he was already dreading the red tape that task would entail. Once he had that ball rolling, he planned to join Sheriff Poole’s deputies in canvassing the powwow. They hoped to track down a needle-in-the-haystack witness—to find someone who’d seen a man or woman give Willis a clove cigarette or sneak into the tent behind the stage to tamper with Talley’s inhaler.
    As for Olivia, she felt completely wrung out. She drove her friends home and then headed straight to The Boot Top, where she asked Gabe to fix her a coffee laced with whiskey. Only when she’d taken several invigorating sips did she make her way to the kitchen.
    It was too early for the sous-chefs to be prepping for the dinner service, so Michel was alone in his stainless steel kingdom. Perched on a stool near the butcher block, he was drinking tea and studying the evening’s menu. Without greeting him, Olivia crossed the room and let Haviland out the back door.
    “Well, hello!” Michel trilled merrily. “Are you done powwowing?”
    The light in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks irritated her. Michel’s cheerfulness was unwelcome at the moment, and though she knew it was unfair, she felt an uncontrollable urge to wound him. “Where’s your chocolate enchantress?”
    Oblivious to the note of sarcasm in Olivia’s voice, Michel raised his mug in a toast. “Visiting your favorite Realtor, Millicent Banks.”
    “Oh?”
    “She saw your leasing agent this afternoon, fell in love with the space, toured every inch of the town, and is now scoping out neighborhoods.” Michel was beaming. “I think she’ll be hanging up a sign in Oyster Bay by Christmas.”
    “Fa-la-la,” Olivia groused and drank more spiked coffee. Feeling dog tired and unkind, she sat opposite Michel and pursed her lips. “She was married, your Shelley. Her husband bit the dust. I hear his death was quite unexpected—that he was as robust as an Olympian. Suddenly developed an irregular heartbeat.” She snapped her fingers. “Gone! Just like that.”
    “Shelley told me all about it,” Michel said. “It must have been horrible for her. She really loved him.”
    “That’s how Willis died, you know. Dropped like