Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

call from Laurel. Deciding that it wasn’t the best time to talk, she motioned for Millay. “Let’s go. There’s nothing here.”
    Once again, she took up a position in the hall while Millay opened the door to the next room. It became clear right away that they’d entered the wrong room.
    “No way this is Judson’s.” Olivia pointed at the pink nightie and floral robe thrown across the unmade bed. A set of hot rollers and an enormous cosmetics bag in the bathroom confirmed their error.
    Back in the hall, the women paused. They could try for the last room on the row or pick one of the rooms across from Annette’s. Before they could decide, the elevator beep sounded and a couple carrying a sleeping toddler headed in their direction.
    Olivia and Millay quickly pretended to be studying something on Millay’s phone. The couple entered the room opposite Fletcher’s.
    “End of the hall it is,” Millay said.
    Hesitating, Olivia whispered. “What if that family comes back out?”
    “Get Haviland to foam at the mouth.” Millay tried to sound cavalier, but Olivia could tell she was just as nervous. “We’ve got to finish what we came here to do.”
    And with that, she crouched down in front of the last door. The instant they got inside, Olivia’s phone vibrated again. Laurel was calling for the second time. “Let me see what she wants.”
    “Where are you?” Laurel demanded. “I’ve been calling all of your regular haunts and no one’s seen you.”
    “Millay and I are doing some recon.” Olivia crossed the room and began to open the nightstand drawers.
    Laurel grunted. “Well, the twins are watching cartoons and Steve’s absorbed in some preseason NFL show, so I had a chance to type up my notes from Saturday. I found something, Olivia.” After her dramatic pause she continued. “Of course I had to research the Battle of Hayes Pond again to make sure that I wasn’t seeing things, but I know what Munin’s clues mean.”
    Olivia waved for Millay to join her by the window. “I’m going to put you on speaker.”
    “Remember how Rawlings told us about the woman whose husband ran off and left her behind after the Lumbee showed up at the KKK rally and gave the Klansmen what for?” Laurel’s excitement practically leapt through the phone speaker.
    “Yeah?” Millay drummed her fingers against her skirt.
    “Her name was Mrs. Marjorie Dawson, but her maiden name was Ware.” Laurel fell silent, waiting for her friends to catch on.
    Suddenly, the skin on Olivia’s arms erupted in goose bumps. “Jesus. Judson. His last name is Ware.”
    “You got it!” Laurel cried as if Olivia was her star pupil. “He’s the son of Mr. and Mrs. Virgil Dawson. He wasn’t even a twinkle in anyone’s eye when his daddy dashed off and his mama drove her car into a ditch. But I found out that he was born in 1960 and we’re all familiar with where he lived. That is, until his parents ran out of money and sold their place for pennies on the dollar.”
    “Talley’s house,” Millay breathed.
    Olivia passed the phone to Millay and held the cigarettes out in front of Haviland’s quivering nose. “Find,” she whispered, unashamed of her shaking fingers or the dread she felt as she stared at a pair of Judson’s shoes.
    “The school ring. The one from the memory jug,” Millay said dully. “It was from the class of 1970-something, right? Did Judson go to Littleton?”
    “Yes, but why do you two sound so stressed out?” Laurel’s tone was tight with concern. “Where are you?”
    From within the small bathroom, Haviland barked once, signaling that he’d located the scent.
    Millay and Olivia exchanged a long look.
    They were standing in the killer’s room.
    And by the time Olivia saw the flash of movement reflected in the window glass, it was too late to leave.

Chapter 18
    Time is the justice that examines all offenders.
    —W ILLIAM S HAKESPEARE
    T he movement Olivia had seen was that of a man’s arm being raised into the air. Then, a blunt object made contact with the back of her head. The blow was hard enough for an explosion of white stars to obscure her vision. The pain surged through her entire body, driving her to her knees.
    From what seemed like a great distance, she heard Millay scream. From even farther away came the sound of the muffled, frenzied barking of a very agitated poodle.
    Olivia fought to stay conscious, but her limbs were as heavy as anchors and her head had filled with a thick fog.