Harris noticed Olivia and reached into his jeans pocket for his phone.
“Olivia?” he whispered.
“Can you find out if Heidi St. Claire is the actress’s real name? Right now?” Olivia murmured, pivoting away from the audience and the inquisitive arch of Grumpy’s eyebrows.
“You should ask one of her fans after the meeting. I bet they could tell you her favorite color, bra size, and blood type. Why are you asking me?” Harris clearly thought Olivia was losing her mind.
“Don’t you have one of those phones that connects to the Internet? I need to know before I order Haviland to track down and attack Camden’s murderer.”
Harris didn’t reply, but Olivia saw him swallow hard and then nod. Hanging up on Olivia, he leaned against Millay and spoke into her ear. Paling, she shot Olivia a sharp look of alarm and grabbed the phone from Harris’s hand.
Olivia struggled to feign an interest in Marlene’s monologue, but the words buzzed around her head like circling flies. She looked out the nearest window, where the outline of the closest building was obscured by the heavy rainfall. Thunder growled over the ocean and a single branch of lightning sparked in the charcoal sky.
Just as she was about to check on the killer’s position again, her phone vibrated in her hand and words surfaced in the silver window. Harris had sent her a text message but Olivia had no idea how to retrieve the thing. She frantically pushed menu buttons and then forced herself to stop and inhale a deep breath. As the sound of the rain seemed to penetrate the room, Olivia located her in-box and read Harris’s message.
Atlas Kraus is Heidi’s father, the message read.
Atlas Kraus was the killer and he was in this room. Not only that, but his next victim was most likely in the front row and Cook was eyeing Olivia suspiciously. Yet where was Rawlings?
Olivia decided to act. She reached into the brown grocery sack and, not caring how much noise she made, pried open the evidence bag. Placing the collar beneath Haviland’s nose, she whispered a command in his ear. “Haviland. Smell.” As soon as he obeyed, Olivia pushed back her chair and snapped her fingers, causing Haviland to prepare himself to track the scent. Marlene stopped speaking, but Olivia gave her a sheepish smile and pointed at the poodle, as though he were to blame for their rude and abrupt departure.
She hadn’t distanced herself from the podium by more than ten feet when she heard Ed Campbell grab the microphone with an anxious laugh. “You’ve raised several valid points, Marlene, but I think it’s time to vote now, don’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Ed joked, “Ms. Limoges? Could you cast your vote before you run off?”
Making sure to meet Officer Cook’s alert gaze, Olivia called an “aye” over her shoulder and then continued toward the opposite end of the room, following Haviland’s lead. To her relief, she noticed Cook circling around the back. Together, they’d corner their quarry.
As soon as Olivia reached the end of the first row, she bent over and cupped her hands, directing her voice at her poodle. “Haviland!” Pointing up the aisle, she commanded, “Find and attack!”
At the same moment Olivia was delivering her orders, Ed Campbell had announced the acceptance of the Cottage Cove proposal and was striding forward to shake hands with Blake Talbot. Ed then handed over the portable microphone and invited Blake to say a few words. Blake rose and took Heidi’s hand. As the power couple turned to face the audience, it was as though a switch had been flipped. The girls recommenced their shrieks and squeals of devotion and surged forward, their camera flashes glittering like stars.
In the raucous confusion, the killer slipped from the room. A flash of black fur passed through the doorway immediately afterward. Haviland was in pursuit.
Olivia was not the least bit gentle as she shoved aside one crazed girl after another in a desperate attempt to see where her dog had gone. When she burst out of the room and into the hallway, she slammed right into Cook.
“Where is he?” she yelled.
Cook didn’t pause to talk and Olivia ran with him until they reached an intersecting corridor. “I radioed the chief. Every exit’s covered. This guy’s going nowhere.”
“I meant Haviland!” Olivia shouted. It was one thing for the poodle to confront the killer in a packed room with armed policemen nearby and quite another for Haviland to assail the man in some darkened room, or worse, outside in the blinding rain. “He could get hurt.”
Jerking open an office door, Cook stepped inside and swept the room with his flashlight. A voice crackled through his radio. “He’s not running,” Cook declared with a satisfied smirk. “Stupid bastard. We’ve got him now.”
Olivia ran to the windows overlooking the square and peered outside. She saw nothing but the shadows of tree trunks and the rain-blurred foliage.
“He won’t run because his agenda isn’t complete,” Olivia said as she pushed by Cook. “His fourth victim is back in that room.” She yanked on the knob of the next door. It was locked. “I think he wanted to make sure none of those little girls got hurt, but he’s not going to leave until he’s done what he came here to do.”
“But then he’s definitely gonna get caught,” Cook insisted smugly.
Olivia grabbed the policeman’s arm. “That’s why he’s so dangerous! He doesn’t care! He’s going to see this thing through no matter what!” She pulled on another door and called, “Haviland! HAVILAND!”
“Olivia! We’ll help you find him!” Several running feet stopped short behind her. Laurel, Harris, and Millay had arrived.
“Leave this to the police, folks,” Cook commanded, but the writers ignored him and quickly decided to search for Haviland in pairs. Her lips quivering as she spoke, Laurel bravely volunteered to accompany Olivia.
Olivia had never wanted to hug another human being as much as she wanted to embrace Laurel at that moment. She could see the stark terror in her friend’s eyes, yet Laurel grabbed Olivia by the hand and started toward the men’s restroom as though she were a warrior preparing to walk into an enemy ambush.
After a pause, Cook charged ahead of the two women. “The chief will skin me alive if I let anything happen to you, Ms. Limoges,” he remonstrated sharply and ducked into the bathroom.
By the time they’d checked the bathrooms, the crowd was clearly moving out of the building to the location where Heidi agreed to sign autographs. Ushered down the hallway by their parents and a pair of officers, the actress’s fans milled forward, their unhindered enthusiasm roaring down the hall like the waters of a flash flood.
Cook shouted a warning into his radio and Olivia couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been hiding the device. Then, despite the fact that she rarely picked up her pace beyond a brisk walk, Olivia ran.
Laurel easily kept stride with her, and together, the two women burst out the double doors onto the portico a few yards ahead of the first group of fans. A dozen policemen were gathered around the perimeter of the porch, their shoulders taut, jaws clenched, and hands on holsters in preparation to draw their weapons.
“Did a black poodle come out here?” Olivia asked the nearest officer.
“No, ma’am,” the man replied, looking past her toward the doors.
Olivia followed his gaze as the girls began to stream out into the open air. “Then the killer’s still inside!” she shouted at him. Seeing he did not plan to respond, Olivia ran to Cook. “Haviland didn’t come out. That means—”
“We need to go back in!” Cook immediately parted the crowd, his lips pressed against the radio’s speaker.
“Stay here!” Olivia told Laurel and followed in Cook’s wake.
Elbowing through the departing crowd, Cook approached a fellow officer and spoke hurriedly to him. Olivia couldn’t hear their exchange but interrupted anyway. “He’s got to be after Blake or Heidi. We need to get them out of here!”