A Killer Plot (2010)

afternoon nap.

“After the death of her parents, Kamila was taken from the only home she’d ever known to the stately house of her uncle. HerauntNebit, whose name meant ‘leopard,’ was displeased to be burdened with another mouth to feed. With four daughters of her own and none half as lovely as twelve-year-old Kamila, the sight of her dead brother’s child turned her heart bitter.

“Kamila was given a small room off the kitchen in which to sleep. The room did not befit her station as the niece of a wealthy and influential man, and as the days and weeks went by, Kamila found herself performing tasks more suited to a slave than that of a beloved relative. Knowing the girl was powerless to protest, Aunt Nebit demanded that Kamila draw baths for her four daughters, comb, plait, and oil their wigs, and serve wine to the family’s guests.

“On one such occasion, when her aunt and uncle were entertaining a most distinguished visitor, the Sandal Bearer of Ramses the Second, the Living God, Kamila was ordered to keep the esteemed member of the royal household’s goblet full at all times.

“However, this tall, slim man with dark eyes and easy smile caught her by the wrist when she attempted to refill his glass for the third time.

“‘No more, child. I like to keep my wits about me, even when visiting friends.’ He winked at her and she relaxed, withdrawing to stand behind his cushion should he require anything else from her.

“Kamila’s aunt and uncle flattered and plied their guest with plate after plate of choice meats, sweet cakes, and honeyed figs, but he was content to merely sample each dish and clearly did not overindulge in the manner of his hosts.

“‘What I would like is to see this little beauty dance,’ the visitor said with a gentle smile in Kamila’s direction.

“Nebit clapped her hands and two of her daughters appeared with lutes. ‘My girls are skilled musicians. Nanu and Shebi, delight the ears of our honored guest while Kamila attempts to dance for him. Forgive us, she is not our daughter but our niece and we do not know if she possesses any skill as a dancer.’

“Kamila swallowed. At one time, she was considered a gifted dancer, but she had not practiced for many months and her body had become stiff and sore from all the labors her aunt had imposed upon her. Still, she feared that if she did not quickly obey, her chores would increase in severity.

“Closing her eyes, she allowed the slow and seductive music to wash over her. She swayed deliberately, unfurling her arms as though she were a blooming flower. She stretched her lithe body until it appeared as though she must break, pointing her toes as she twirled on one leg and then the other. Jealous of the enraptured look upon their visitor’s face, Nanu and Shebi abruptly ended their song, leaving Kamila standing in a trancelike state in the middle of the floor. The sisters giggled wickedly behind their palms.

“When Kamila dared to glance over at her aunt and uncle, she saw that they were paying no attention to her. Her uncle and his guest were whispering back and forth while Aunt Nebit tried to control the look of avarice in her eyes. When the older woman gave Kamila a shrewd stare, the girl knew she was the topic of conversation.

“She was right, and by the end of the evening she became the property of the Sandal Bearer. He requested the use of her uncle’s sedan chair and bearers in order to carry her to the palace. ‘Your niece shall now serve wine to the Son of Light,’ he declared and whisked Kamila into the night.

“On the short journey to the palace, the kind and gentle man told Kamila that he planned to present her as a gift to the Living God.

“‘You should rejoice,’ he stated. ‘This is a great honor. You are to become Pharaoh’s concubine. ’”

Olivia put down the pages and glanced at her sleeping dog. “That boring, eh?”

A few hours later, the Bayside Book Writers reconvened in the lighthouse keeper’s cottage. Once the three regular members arrived, followed closely by a delighted Chief Rawlings, Olivia opened a bottle of chilled champagne and poured the contents into crystal flutes.

“To Camden,” she said solemnly and raised her glass. After each of the writers touched rims, Olivia made a second toast. “And to Sawyer Rawlings, our newest member.”

Rawlings dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I am honored to be counted among this fine group.”

After helping themselves to chocolate-covered strawberries and a selection of crackers and gourmet cheeses, the writers settled on the sofa or in club chairs and laid out their marked copies of Olivia’s work in progress.

Harris began the critique by praising the accurate feel of the setting. He then admitted that he felt there needed to be a more detailed physical description of each character.

Laurel said that she had a strong sense of the minor characters, but wasn’t always clear as to what Kamila was feeling. “She’s really just a young girl! And I know things were different back then—that kids matured much sooner than they do in the modern world. I know they married and bore children at Kamila’s tender age, but she still seems too much of an old soul to me. Doesn’t she long for her own family? Isn’t she terribly lonely? Isn’t she scared to have such an uncertain future?” Laurel’s comments were filled with such passion that Olivia realized her heroine might indeed be lacking in emotion.

When it was Rawlings’ turn to share his impression of the first chapter, he took a moment to review his notes. “Let me begin by saying that I feel invested in your character. I genuinely care what happens to Kamila and that means you’ve hooked me as a reader. I also thought you chose a strong line with which to end chapter one.”

Harris lowered his voice in order to imitate the Royal Sandal Bearer. “ ‘You are to become Pharaoh’s concubine.’ ”

“More like Pharaoh’s chattel,” Millay said with disgust. “Maybe that’s what your title should be.”

Laurel tossed a pillow at Millay, nearly knocking the pages from her hands.

Rawlings cleared his throat and smiled at Laurel. “If you don’t allow me to finish my critique I’ll have to cuff you.” She quickly sat on her hands and tried to look abashed. Olivia was amused by the effect a little champagne had on her friend. She turned her attention to Rawlings, slightly apprehensive over hearing the remainder of his commentary.

“I share Laurel’s view regarding the reader’s inability to clearly sense Kamila’s feelings. There is too much distance between her and us,” he explained plainly. “Get us closer. If you do, we’ll be on the edge of our seats from chapter to chapter. If you don’t, we won’t be as engaged, and no matter what happens to this fascinating young girl, we won’t relate to her experience on any level. We can empathize over Kamila’s fear of the future, her grief over losing her parents, or her anger over being treated like an Egyptian Cinderella by her aunt if you let us.”

Olivia nodded. “I hear what you’re saying. I’m not certain how to get those emotions across to the reader, but at least I know what needs to be improved. Thank you. This has been very valuable for me.”

Laurel handed Harris an unopened bottle of champagne and signaled for him to do the honors. She squealed at the pop of the cork and then bustled about, topping off everyone’s glasses. As she poured for Rawlings, she said, “Um, Sawyer? Can I ask you something about the case? I know you’re off duty and all but since we’re done with Olivia’s chapter and we still have full glasses ...”

Rawlings hesitated and Laurel took advantage of his silence. “There’s something I haven’t been able to figure out. How did Atlas Kraus make contact with Blake?”

“When Mr. Kraus discovered that his daughter was dating Blake Talbot, he found a way to get a job on a Talbot Fine Properties construction site in another state. Max Warfield spent a few days overseeing that project’s