There was a hint of displeasure in Flynn’s voice. Olivia tried to lighten the mood by saying, “I’m hoping you’ll enlighten me during our meal. Last time I was here, you told me about working for a pharmaceutical company in Research Triangle Park. Now tell me how you became a runner. My friend Laurel sees you pounding the pavement on a regular basis.”
Out on the flagstone patio, Flynn lit the grill and a pair of tiki torches mounted to the backs of lawn chairs. “I know Laurel. She’s the one with the cute twins.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how women run with those monster strollers. I can barely propel my own body forward.” He put the sausages on the grill. “Truthfully, I love running. Not to be faster or stronger or for any of those health reasons. I just like to lose myself for an hour or so.”
“I understand that feeling. Haviland and I do that every morning on our walks on the beach. But after you run, do you get to relax in the pages of one of your thousands of books?” Olivia inquired.
Flynn moved the food around with a pair of tongs. “I don’t get much read at the store. We have a steady stream of customers most days and believe it or not, I do have to restock and ring people up and—”
“Brew that odious coffee,” Olivia teased. “Laurel said she notices the same people exercising in the downtown area. Apparently, there’s an entire group of running addicts. Have you noticed that too?”
“Sure. People like schedules. Runners in particular. Me? I’m a morning runner. Can’t do it at night and I’d melt if I went out midday.” He shrugged. “I guess we’re a particular lot, kind of like the folks who love my odious coffee.” He swatted the air near her leg with the hot tongs.
“Did you happen to notice a guy posting a piece of bright red paper on the bulletin board outside the town hall this weekend?” She watched Flynn carefully for a reaction. There was none.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “But I can be pretty clueless about things when I’m in the zone and I’ve got my music turned up loud. Is he important? This guy?”
“I’d just like to know the guy’s name, that’s all,” Olivia answered cryptically and changed the subject.
As Flynn had no patio furniture other than flimsy lawn chairs, they ate on a blanket on the grass. Without the presence of an ocean breeze, the air felt especially cloying. It stuck to Olivia’s arms and neck, inviting a host of bugs to circulate around her head as they searched out the source of her jasmine and gardenia perfume. Haviland didn’t seem to notice the pests as he wolfed down a bratwurst and then gave Flynn his most poignantly imploring look.
“Forget it, Haviland. You’re having vegetables when we get home,” Olivia scolded.
“You can’t stay?” Flynn asked casually, his eyes betraying his desire.
Though part of her wanted to linger, Olivia was too unsettled by the discovery of the haiku and the realization that Camden’s killer had an agenda that possibly included more murders. On another night, she might have wanted comfort, to lose herself with Flynn, but tonight she wanted to go home. It was her goal to make a list of all of the facts and theories she’d accumulated about the murders and try to discern what the killer was after.
She wanted to think and after that, she wanted to sleep, wake up early, and think some more.
“I’m sorry, but with all these reporters in town, we’re swamped at The Boot Top. I need to be up early tomorrow to lend a hand,” she explained softy, doing her best to sound disappointed.
Together, she and Flynn carried their plates to his kitchen. Olivia rinsed while Flynn loaded the dishwasher. When he excused himself to use the bathroom before walking her to the car, Olivia meandered back into the living room. She noticed a white hardback with a pear on the cover sitting on a side table. Curious, she bent down and glanced at the title.
To see Void vast infinite look out the window into the blue sky.
Olivia flipped through the book, scanning every haiku for the familiar lines of the winter and spring poems she had now memorized. When she heard the water rush through the pipes, she slid the book back onto the table and moved toward the front door.
Sensing her sudden discomfort, Haviland whined.
Flynn appeared and patted the poodle’s head. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting, my man.” He held the door open for Haviland and then took Olivia’s hand. “I really wish you didn’t have to go.”
Giving his hand a quick squeeze, Olivia plastered on a smile. “We’ll get together again soon.”
Outside, Flynn leaned his back against the Range Rover, preventing Olivia from getting inside. He reached out and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. His voice grew hoarse with hunger. “If I promise to feed those plastic fish to the equally unattractive colony of yard gnomes down the street, will you stay over next time?”
Laughing, Olivia kissed him lightly on the lips and disengaged from his grasp. “Maybe. Thank you for dinner. If being adept with a grill makes you more macho in your neighbor’s eyes, then you are one hundred percent pure Grade-A male.”
“Me Flynn Man!” Flynn stepped away from the car, beating on his chest like an ape. “Me get to interrogate you on our next date.” He shuffled, primatelike, around the other side of the Rover and opened the passenger door for Haviland.
“Be safe!” he called out before closing the door and jumping nimbly onto the sidewalk.
Olivia pulled away from the curb and glanced at Haviland. “I find those parting words a bit unsettling, don’t you?”
Haviland barked.
At home, Olivia kicked off her shoes and poured herself a generous splash of Chivas Regal. She let Haviland out for his nightly roam and sank onto the sofa with her notebook. She reviewed every detail she’d previously recorded about the deaths of Camden Ford and Dean Talbot.
Ripping out the pages containing copies of the two haiku, Olivia stared at the lines. She drained her drink and jiggled the melting ice against the walls of the tumbler. “Do you have a victim in mind for your summer poem?”
Olivia went into the kitchen for a refill and to treat herself to a few squares of dark chocolate. Chewing on the smooth, slightly bitter Belgian sweet, she paced around the spacious living room. “Bottom line: Blake Talbot has benefited from both deaths.” She spoke to her reflection in the large windows facing the ocean. “Camden no longer has the power to write anything negative about Blake and the death of Blake’s father makes him one of the wealthiest and most powerful young men in the country.”
Returning to her notebook, she circled Max Warfield’s name. “Do you benefit as well? Has Blake promised you a bigger slice of the pie?” Sighing, she tossed down her pen. “But all the obvious villains have alibis!” Her thoughts strayed to Flynn and to the image of him wielding the box cutter. “No, he can’t be involved. He has no motive.”
She continued to debate a host of possibilities aloud until she felt frustrated and spent. Opening the French doors leading to the deck, she called for Haviland. A refreshing breeze sprang up from the ocean, and Olivia leaned against the railing, listening to the gentle rush of the waves onto the sand. Inhaling the salt-misted air calmed her thoughts, but eventually she grew impatient for bed.
“Come on, Haviland!” Olivia called again.
When another five minutes passed, Olivia shouted again, an edge of irritation entering her voice. She listened for Haviland’s responding bark, but the only sounds were the water’s whispers.
Annoyed, Olivia grabbed a flashlight from the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink, stuck her feet into the well- worn sneakers reserved for morning walks, and stomped across the luminescent sand.
“HAVILAND!” she bellowed.
Slowly, her exasperation turned to concern. Haviland always reappeared within minutes of her first call. Even during daylight hours, when he was routinely distracted by gulls, crabs, and a host of interesting odors, he responded almost immediately to her commands.
Heading toward the lighthouse keeper’s cottage, Olivia felt a tightness in her chest. Something was wrong.
At the same moment she felt that sharp stab of fear, the beam of the flashlight sought out a darker patch of black in the shadow cast by the cottage.
