A Killer Plot (24 page)

“Yes, I can read the words ‘Dog Free Play Area’ quite easily,” she said. “So this is an open field where dogs are welcome to play unleashed?”

Dean’s smile grew larger. He came a little closer, fearful of scaring the fish he believed to be so near his sharp hook. “Exactly! There will also be garbage cans with disposal bags available, agility equipment for the dogs to exercise on, and a wading pool for those hot paws.”

“A lovely touch.” Olivia silently wondered if Haviland would condescend to join his furry kin in a communal pool. “Do you have a dog, Mr. Talbot?”

Sliding his eyes toward Haviland, Dean stuck his hands in his pockets. “No pets for me. I practically live out of my suitcase.”

Olivia produced a sympathetic look. She wanted to prove that she’d done her own share of research. “That must be hard on your wife.”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, I think my other half is happiest when I’m hundreds of miles away. We both have our own hobbies and interests. That happens in a marriage sometimes.”

Derailed by his frankness, Olivia broke eye contact. “The dog area is thoughtful. They don’t have a comparable play space at the moment and the public beach isn’t always the most practical solution, what with little children playing nearby and waste issues and such.”

“Look. I’m not asking you to commit to our project this second,” Dean continued amiably. “I’d just like you to consider the benefits alongside your concerns. Fair enough?”

Max made a move to collect the drawing, but Dean raised a finger, instantly halting the forward motion of his employee. Olivia noticed he was not wearing a wedding ring.

“I’ll be in town until next Wednesday, Ms. Limoges. Would you care to have dinner with me over the weekend? I promise not to discuss business matters.” He smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from his shirt. “It would be purely platonic—a chance for me to learn about Oyster Bay from a business owner’s perspective.”

“I’m not the only business owner in town.”

“But I’d prefer to share a meal with an attractive, intelligent, and sophisticated woman. I may be married, but I can still admire beauty.”

“Married with three children,” Olivia pointed out. “Are any of them involved in the family business?”

Dean’s face darkened for a moment, but then he shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “My kids aren’t interested in my field. One son deals with investments, my daughter is into fashion design, and my other son is a musician. I guess I didn’t play enough Monopoly with them when they were little.”

“So Mr. Warfield must be the heir to the throne,” Olivia remarked flippantly, but she’d chosen her words with care.

A disdainful light entered Dean’s eyes. “Max would be perfectly capable,” he said pleasantly. “But I’m not planning on retiring anytime soon.”

“I believe I had the honor of having your youngest son frequent my restaurant recently. Forgive me, but I don’t remember his name,” Olivia lied.

“Blake?” Again, the flicker of disapproval. “Well, we do own a house here and the kids are free to use it.” He paused and asked nonchalantly, “What do you mean by ‘recently’?”

Olivia rubbed her temple as though trying to remember. “He and a lovely young woman dined at The Boot Top about two weeks ago.”

“I see.” Dean fell silent and Max shifted uncomfortably.

After packing up the debris from her lunch, Olivia stood. “I should be getting back to the restaurant.” She held out her hand. “I’d love to have dinner with you on the condition that you allow my chef to prepare something special for us. I have plans this afternoon, but we could dine later this evening if that suits you?”

Dean took her hand and shook it gently. “I accept your terms and look forward to our evening together.” He placed his hand over his heart. “And I solemnly swear not to talk about the proposal. Not one word.”

The two men retreated in haste, shooting nervous glances at the sky. During the past half hour, it had become thick with gunmetal gray clouds, which seemed too heavy to hold their burdens much longer.

Haviland began to pace around the gazebo. He’d never been fond of thunder and Olivia knew he wanted to be safe at home before the storm broke. Olivia let him hop into the Rover and then asked him to be patient for a little longer.

She jogged up the dilapidated steps toward the little graveyard. The breeze had given way to a more persistent wind. The trees branches swayed like the arms of a dancer, and the tiny Confederate flags shivered as though cold.

Olivia opened the gate and stepped onto the soft grass with care. She noticed someone had gathered wild phlox and placed a single stem at the foot of each of the seven graves. The purple, tissuelike petals were crinkled with thirst but still gave off a faint sweet scent.

Someone else besides Jethro Bragg cares about this place
, Olivia thought.

She got on her knees in front of Henry Bragg’s head-stone and stroked the smooth rock. There was a stillness to the place, a sense of deep peace Olivia rarely experienced anywhere but at the water’s edge and within the confines of her home.

The wind curled under her white blond hair and flipped it upward. It felt like the flutter of bird’s wings against her face. A feathery caress. It was as if the souls of the men buried beneath her had descended on a current of warm air and, moments before the rain began, blessed her with their presence.

“I won’t let them destroy this place,” Olivia whispered, her fingers tracing the shallow letters carved into the stone.

In her mind, she was seeing another name on another tombstone.

Olivia was still kneeling there when the rain came.

—OGDEN NASH

 

 

 

 

A
ren’t gryphons part lion and part snake?” Laurel asked Millay later that evening.

Millay took a sip of coffee and shook her head. “That’s a chimera. A chimera has a scaly tail that ends in a serpent’s head. On the other end, you’ve got a lion’s head and a goat’s head kind of growing out of the back of the neck. I think chimeras are way cool, but for my story, I needed an animal with only one head. It’d be tough for Tessa and the others to find room on a creature’s back if it had
two
heads.” She waved her hands around as she spoke, her silver thumb rings catching the light. “Besides, I like the gryphon’s combination of the lion and the eagle. What’s a goat head going to do in the middle of a battle? Ravish a flower garden?”

The writers laughed.

“You know your mythological beasts and you did a great job describing the gryphon as both a potential weapon and a possible friend.” Harris turned to the third page of Millay’s first chapter. “I really like this part, after Tessa’s been pushed and her gryphon catches her in his talons and flies her into his cave.”

He held up Millay’s second page and read,
“Despite the piercing light of the full moon, the cave was mostly in shadow. The gryphon’s gold eye gleamed as he assessed his new rider. He watched the blood seep into her gauzy white dress where his scythelike claws had bit into the flesh of her waist. The coldness of his gaze sparked a flicker of fear in Tessa’s belly. She had heard tales of what happened to girls who did not instantly bond with their gryphons. Trembling, Tessa moved toward the creature, awed by his tawny fur, the shimmering feathers of his wings, the massive legs and muscular back, and the daggerlike curve of his beak. She sunk to one knee and bowed to him.”

The group let the words settle over them for a moment. It seemed a fitting segment to listen to as the light waned outside the cottage. Laurel had requested an early evening meeting, as her parents were coming to town after dinner and she wanted to make sure the twins were presentable before their arrival. Millay’s shift at Fish Nets began at eight, so she seconded the motion to begin the meeting at five thirty instead of six thirty. Olivia had left a message about the time change with Chief Rawlings the day before, but he had neither returned her call nor showed up for the meeting. She was surprisingly disappointed by his absence.

Returning her attention to the notes she’d written beside the passage where Tessa dropped to her knees near the gryphon’s nest of dried grass, Olivia raised a question. “The bones scattered about the corner of the gryphon’s cave—animal or human?”

“Eeew!” Laurel squeaked. “You can’t have Tessa’s rescuer be a flying, feathered, people-eater! This is a young adult book, not a Stephen King horror novel!”

Millay patted Laurel’s knee. “Relax, Mama Bear. It’s a pile of cow bones. I’ve got a scene in the fourth chapter that shows the gryphon feeding. I wanted to get the point across that these creatures aren’t oversized, cuddly plush toys. They’re wild animals and fierce warriors. They can be cold, brutal, and unpredictable.
And
they’re total carnivores.”

“You need to portray them in this light if the reader is to believe that a gryphon is capable of winning a battle against a dragon,” Olivia agreed. “I’m looking forward to reading what kind of bonding goes on between Tessa and her beast. For example, how will she convince him to attack something that breathes fire?”

Harris fidgeted. “Yeah. Um, about that whole dragon thing . . .”

Flicking her black bangs out of her eyes, Millay stared hard at Harris. “You’re well-schooled in the fantasy genre, so tell me, is there a better creature to pick as the enemy than a dragon? They’re like the fantasy world’s equivalent of an A-bomb.”

In order to avoid meeting her penetrating gaze, Harris drew a series of spirals on the margin of his paper. “It’s just that some of your details are a little bit cliché. Tessa and her friends are dressed in white robes. The dragon riders are all good-looking but vicious women dressed in black. They remind me too much of the riders in Anne McCaffrey’s books.” He hesitated and then plowed on. “And the descriptions of your dragons seem a lot like those of the ring wraiths from Tolkien’s trilogy.”

Laurel interrupted. “I know who Anne McCaffrey is!
The Dragonriders of Pern
was on my summer reading list in high school. I checked it out of the library thinking there’d be lots of hot guys rescuing princesses,” she added with a giggle, clearly hoping to dispel the hostility radiating from Millay. “And even though I’m not as experienced as Harris about these kinds of books, I see his point. Can you change the dragons into something else? It seems that it would be pretty tough to beat a creature that breathes fire unless Tessa knows some powerful magic, and though she’s strong and brave, I get the sense that she’s still kind of finding her way.”

Millay screwed up her lips, still staring at Harris. “What do you suggest? I don’t want anyone thinking my stuff is
cliché.
”

Harris, who had obviously given the subject serious thought, responded immediately. “Well, if you want to maintain your aerial battle scenes, then why not use a wyvern? They’re reptilian, but usually smaller and less massive than a dragon. You could make yours really different. More like a snake with wings. No legs and no breathing fire.”

“Sounds like a viper,” Olivia added. “I can picture a black, forked tongue.”

“A poisonous, winged viper?” Millay’s face brightened as an image formed in her mind. “With curved fangs and an anvil-shaped tail. That
does
sound more interesting and even
more
sinister than your everyday dragon.” She jotted down some quick notes and then flashed Harris one of her rare smiles. “You’re pretty good at this critique stuff. Thanks for being straight with me.”

Harris blushed with pleasure over the compliment. The pronounced ruddiness of his cheeks reminded Olivia that she still needed to find a way to get the young man to New Bern in order to have a consultation with her aesthetician.

“I know this is only the first chapter, but I thought it was a really good beginning,” Laurel praised Millay. “If I read this right, Tessa and her gryphon were born connected to each other, even though they didn’t know it. So when they speak to each other, do they do that telepathically?”

Millay nodded. “That’s why the dialogue’s italicized.”

“One last question.” Laurel quickly checked her cell phone to ensure that she’d received no calls over the last half hour and then asked, “Is the gryphon going to be called ‘the gryphon’ the whole time or will you give him a name?”

“He and Tessa have to seek out his name. They have to succeed in a series of minor quests before they’ll be ready for battle.” She shrugged. “Though to be totally honest, I’ve been having a hard time coming up with a name. Every one I’ve tried out sounds like a brand of organic cereal or a STD. If you guys have any ideas . . .”

Harris leaned forward eagerly. “I have this awesome book that lists the names of all the minor mythological figures. Medieval ones too. I bet you could find something by blending parts of those names together.”

“Cool. Can you bring it by my apartment tomorrow?” she inquired lightly. “I’ll feed you pizza.”

Harris tried to keep his delighted smile under control. Olivia suspected even without the offer of pizza, an invitation to Millay’s home had him flying high. “Sure,” he answered with nonchalance. “I can swing by around six.”

Grinning at her two friends, Laurel folded Millay’s pages in half and tucked them in her purse. “Speaking of names, what are we supposed to call the chief when he joins us? If he joins us, that is. I feel like I’m going to say Chief or Mr. Rawlings no matter what! I’m still calling our pediatrician Dr. Davis even though Steve and I have been to dinner with his wife and him a bunch of times!”

“The chief’s first name is Sawyer,” Olivia replied as she rose to replenish her empty coffee cup. “I don’t know why he’s not here, as he seemed quite sincere about joining us. He even sent me an email saying he’d finished critiquing your chapter, Millay. My only guess is that he got tied up at work. Things aren’t exactly sleepy in Oyster Bay these days.”