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“Do you remember the words?” Olivia asked doubtfully.

Setting his phone on the counter, Harris pressed a few buttons and three lines of text appeared in the display window. Olivia read them aloud.

A rotten tree falls

Letting in enough light—

For the sapling to grow

“Autumn,” she murmured. “This poem comes closer to following the rules than the summer haiku. It’s interesting and rather disturbing that he wanted to improve as a poet.” Her eyes returned to the first few words. “I take it Blake Talbot is the rotten tree. Atlas planned to shoot him and watch as his body toppled over like a felled tree. Then Atlas’s daughter, the sapling, would receive more sunlight. No one would hold back her burgeoning rise to fame and fortune.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Heidi’s feeling too grateful at the moment,” Harris concluded as Dixie arrived with Olivia’s lunch. She placed a bowl of tomato soup and a plate containing a grilled cheese sandwich on the counter in front of Olivia. Whisking away the empty limeade tumbler, the intuitive proprietor set a steaming mug of hot tea next to Olivia’s hand.

“Wrap your fingers around that. You need some old-fashioned childhood food, ‘Livia. Never met a person on this earth who couldn’t start mendin’ after a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.” Dixie tucked a feather of blond hair back under her silver headband and dusted a crumb from her Little Miss Chatterbox shirt.

Olivia opened her napkin and smiled. “Dixie, you’re a precious gem hidden amid the rocks.”

Dixie snorted. “Tell Grumpy that. He’s been promisin’ to buy me a new ‘rock’ for going on ten years now.” She elbowed Harris. “If a gal ever tells you size don’t matter, she’s lying.”

Harris’s cheeks burned red.

“Aw, lamb. You don’t need to blush. I’m just messin’ with you.” Dixie was genuinely contrite.

“It’s not what you said, ma’am. I’ve got a skin condition.” Harris put his palms over his cheeks, looking miserable. “I look embarrassed or humiliated or like I’m suffering from heat stroke at least ten times a day.”

Dixie turned to Olivia. “Such a handsome boy. Reminds me a little bit of Peter Pan.” She put a hand on Harris’s back but kept her eyes on Olivia. “There’s got to be somethin’ out there to fix his skin, am I right?”

“Actually, there is,” Olivia answered brightly.

Harris shook his head “I’ve tried every topical medicine on the market. They don’t work.” He smiled at Dixie. “If I ever do find a girl to propose to, it’ll mean she’s gotten used to my face and likes me despite my rosy red cheeks. We’d be a modern age Beauty and the Beast.”

Olivia touched his arm. “Personally, I’d prefer the Beast, but women your age aren’t often as wise as those of us who’ve learned what matters.” She and Dixie exchanged a wink. “And I’m not referring to creams or salves either. How would you feel about trying a laser treatment? On me, of course. It would be a favor to an aesthetician friend of mine. She’s been searching for someone with your condition to use as a test case for her pulse laser.” Olivia felt no shame in concocting such a flagrant lie. “What do you think?”

Harris’s eyes glimmered. “Cool. A pulse laser? Kind of sounds like an episode of Star Trek. When can we start?”

“I’ll call her right after lunch,” Olivia answered casually, though she was truly excited over the idea of watching Harris’s rosacea become a bad memory. “Let’s keep it a secret too. We’ll see if anyone notices when the Bayside Book Writers meet again.”

Dixie skated off and returned fifteen minutes later with Olivia’s check. Beneath the total she had written, “Softie!” followed by a goofy smiley face. Frowning, Olivia balled up the check and slapped it on top of a twenty-dollar bill.

“Come along, Haviland. Time to visit the chief. Perhaps we should have brought him a grilled cheese sandwich,” she mused as she said good-bye to Harris and stepped outside. A pair of journalists moved to follow her, but Dixie skated in front of them, blocking their path and giving Olivia and Haviland ample time to escape untroubled, at least for the moment.

From a distance, the police station resembled an anthill. Uniformed policemen, important Oyster Bay citizens, and many of those present at the town hall the night before streamed in and out the front doors. In addition, reporters and cameramen milled about the sidewalk. Awaiting an official statement from the chief, they passed the time smoking, speaking into cell phones, fiddling with their BlackBerrys, or accosting the more colorful locals as they left the station.

Olivia scowled in disgust as a woman wearing a pink suit dabbed at her heavily made-up face with a tissue. “I declare!” she drawled. “I won’t be able to sleep a wink until that horrible man is put away for life! And to think he was here among us good, churchgoing folk the whole time. Poor Annie Kraus! She welcomes her brother-in-law into her home and how does he repay her? He kills one of her guests and then nearly ruins our chances of getting that nice new development built.”

The reporter murmured a question and the woman squared her shoulders and declared, “Of course I’m relieved to hear it’s still going through. I am a business owner, you know. Pink Lady Cleaners, that’s me. We have two locations, here and—”

But the woman’s plug was cut short when the reporter spotted Olivia and Haviland. Several cameras swung around to capture her image and she turned her head from the penetrating stares of their zooming lenses.

“Ms. Limoges! Ms. Limoges!” voices shouted, all vying for attention. “Is it true you aided the police in their investigation?”

“Is your dog a trained tracker?” another yelled.

“Are you romantically involved with Chief Rawlings?” she heard just before entering the relative quiet of the station’s lobby. After checking in with the desk officer, she and Haviland sat down and curiously observed the comings and goings of familiar faces. Ed Campbell appeared from a closed door off the lobby. He nodded at her deferentially and then steeled himself to exit the building. Marlene Gibbons arrived in the lobby shortly afterward. Upon seeing Olivia, she came over to say hello.

“For what it’s worth, I admire your passion concerning the preservation of our current ecosystem,” Olivia told her.

Marlene’s brows furrowed in anger. “Then why didn’t you vote against the development? I thought you were on my side. And the environment’s side.”

“I am, but I’m on the side of the townsfolk first,” Olivia retorted gently. “This development will create dozens of new jobs. Plenty of people need those jobs. As much as I like birds and snapping turtles, these people are my neighbors. They need this.”

Releasing a weary sigh, Marlene rose. “I’d always choose animals and plants over people. I just see them as being more worthy of existence, I suppose.” She smiled ruefully at Haviland. “You’re a fine example of such a noble creature. I wish I’d brought of few of my pets with me today. I’d have felt much more confident with my iguana sitting on my shoulder.” She ruffed Haviland’s ears. “Now I’m going to have to fend off the press with sharp words instead.”

Olivia wished Marlene good luck and resumed a pose of patience. However, she quickly grew restless as the station continued to hum with activity.