The Last Word

Chapter 2

I don’t believe the accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings.

—MAYA ANGELOU

Ten minutes after leaving the diner, Olivia was rapping on Millicent Banks’s office door.

“Oh, Ms. Limoges!” The real estate agent opened the door while dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I’m afraid you’ve found me eating on the job. Do come in.” Peering around Olivia’s shoulder, she caught sight of Haviland and retreated a step. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Actually, I’m here to thank you.” Olivia gave the older woman a grateful smile. “Harris was fortunate to have had such an experienced agent on his side to guide him through the biggest purchase of his life. To show you my appreciation, I’ve brought you a gift certificate to The Boot Top. I’d like to treat you and Mr. Banks to a memorable dinner.”

Millicent accepted the gift with obvious pleasure. “How lovely! But this is quite unnecessary. I was merely doing my job.”

“I know. Still, men don’t always know how to express themselves, and Harris would approve of me doing so on his behalf.” Olivia noticed a folder on Millicent’s desk bearing Harris’s name. “Was his offer accepted?”

Hesitating, Millicent walked around her desk and examined her computer screen. “The sellers have agreed to the price via e-mail, but they haven’t signed any papers yet. The husband plans to swing by after work. I’m certain everything will work out just fine.”

Olivia didn’t share the agent’s optimism. She had to act fast to ensure that the sellers signed the necessary documents before Nick could present an offer that would make their heads spin.

“Mrs. Banks, I know I’m behaving like an overprotective sibling, but I just want to see that everything’s in order before I head in to the restaurant. Can I persuade you to drive the paperwork to the sellers now instead of waiting until later this afternoon?” Without giving Millicent a chance to protest, Olivia continued. “In short, I’d like to offer you an incentive. You see, I’ve noticed your fondness for Chanel bags and I have a contact in New York City who can send me the grand shopper tote from the upcoming line. I’d be more than glad to acquire one for you if you’d only do me the favor of getting those papers signed directly. I can guarantee that you’ll be the first woman in the county to possess Chanel’s newest gem.”

Millicent had a dreamy look in her eyes. “I’ve seen photos of that bag in Vogue. It’s magnificent.” She shook the image away. “But I can’t accept, Ms. Limoges. It’s too expensive and there’s really no need to offer me gifts. The seller is a man of honor. If he’s given me a verbal agreement, then he’ll stand by it. By five thirty, the offer will be accepted.”

Not if Nick Plumley offers twice the amount, Olivia thought anxiously. She needed to get Millicent out of the office with that paperwork.

“You can accept a gift knowing that I can afford a crate of Chanel bags,” Olivia remarked flatly, reaching down to stroke Haviland’s black curls. “But money can’t buy friends. Not a true friend like Harris in any case. Because this house is important to him, it’s important to me. Please. Make this deal official.”

Collecting her black-and-white Chanel hobo from her chair, Millicent shrugged. “Well, this old thing is a bit past its prime. I’ve got an appointment at three, but I can see the sellers before then.”

“Thank you!” Olivia exhaled in relief. However, she remained where she was until the real estate agent had her paperwork and car keys in hand before following her out of the office.

Olivia waited on the sidewalk as the older woman eased her Cadillac away from the curb. Millicent gave the tall, headstrong woman and her poodle a little wave before pulling onto Main Street.

“Ma’am, is that your vehicle?” a man’s voice asked from behind Olivia. “The Range Rover? If so, you are currently obstructing the fire hydrant and I’m going to have to write you a citation.”

Olivia fought back a guilty smile. “I’m sorry, Officer, but that’s not my car. I would never drive such a gas-hungry, environmentally unfriendly road hog.”

“So you’re all about going green, huh? Word has it you don’t even recycle—that you toss empty whiskey bottles off the lighthouse landing right into the ocean.”

Olivia feigned offense. “I most certainly do not! What a vicious rumor. Isn’t the chief of police above listening to idle gossip?”

“Not when it concerns you.” Chief Rawlings had been grinning, but now his mouth drew into a tight line. “I have to rely on hearsay, seeing as how you seem to be avoiding me at every turn.”

It was true. Ever since Olivia had gone to Okracoke Island to bear witness to the death of her father, she’d become even more aloof than usual.

She hated that a man who’d disappeared thirty years earlier, letting his only child believe he’d been lost at sea, still had so much power over her. He’d begun a new life on Okracoke while Olivia had struggled to live hers as an orphan. Her father found a literal port in a storm, gained employment, and had even remarried and sired a son. She’d drifted around the globe, unable to form a genuine relationship with a single human being.

For the past thirty years, Olivia’s father had been a ghost, haunting her sleep with unwanted memories until the day a woman from Okracoke mailed her an anonymous letter. The letter declared that the man she’d known as Willie Wade was alive. Alive and unwell and only fifty nautical miles away from his abandoned daughter.

Olivia was still coming to grips with having rediscovered her father only to reach him hours before he passed away. To say she had mixed feelings about her half brother, Hudson, was a gross understatement. The siblings had grown up in different worlds. Olivia had been exposed to the finer things in life while Hudson had worked hard since boyhood to please his father and, later, to support his family. He was taciturn and guarded, but Olivia also believed he was loyal, determined, and a hell of a cook.

Now Hudson, his pregnant wife, and their six-year-old daughter were all Olivia had by way of family. In hopes of becoming closer to these strangers, Olivia had invited Hudson to move his family to Oyster Bay and take over the management of her newest restaurant, The Bayside Crab House.

The siblings had barely spoken since Olivia had left Okracoke. Hudson preferred to let his wife, Kim, handle all communication, and Olivia wondered if she’d ever develop even a tenuous bond with her gruff half brother.

After her father’s death, Olivia had spent the winter moody and withdrawn. She’d attended all the Bayside Book Writers meetings and worked hard to provide thoughtful critiques, but had avoided any other social engagements.

“I didn’t expect to return to my hermitlike ways,” she now confessed to Rawlings. “But after Okracoke, my defenses were raised and now I can’t seem to take off the armor. It’s too familiar. Too comforting.”

Rawlings studied her, his hazel eyes dark beneath the shadow of the building’s awning. “You moved back to Oyster Bay to reconnect with the people of this town, to claim the sense of belonging you felt as a kid. You’re one of us, Olivia, and that means you can’t hole up in your oceanfront home and shut us out. It’s too late for that.”

Olivia smiled. The chief’s words were a balm to her injured heart. “I’m back to patronizing Grumpy’s. That’s a step in the right direction.”

“And what of Through the Wardrobe?” Rawlings asked nonchalantly, but a twinge at the corner of his mouth betrayed his mistrust. “Bought any books lately?”

“Flynn McNulty and I are just friends. Actually, that term isn’t quite accurate. I’m merely another customer.” Olivia disliked having to defend herself. “Flynn is dating Haviland’s veterinarian, and I’m indebted to her. Without Diane entering the picture, I couldn’t have disentangled myself with such ease.”

Rawlings didn’t look convinced. “When you and Flynn parted ways, I thought it was because of me. I know I wanted you, but you slammed the door on us.” He took a step closer, his face coming out from beneath the shelter of the awning. The sun lit his eyes a feline gold. “I’d kick that damned door right off its hinges if you’d give me the slightest sign—”

“Chief!” A police cruiser paused in the middle of the road and a young officer waved out the open passenger window. “We’re all done with that funeral detail. Want a ride back to the station?”

Without answering, Rawlings turned his gaze back to Olivia.

“Go on,” she whispered. Part of her wanted to escape the heat of the chief’s stare while the rest wanted to be engulfed in the intensity of his desire. Over the winter, she’d denied her hunger for this man, burying it beneath to-do lists and memories of her father’s betrayal.

Resigned, Rawlings gave her a polite nod, scratched Haviland’s neck, and got into the sedan.

“Crap,” Olivia muttered. Haviland whined, sniffing the air where Rawlings had stood. “I know you like him, but it’s not a good time for me to get involved. My life has become too complicated as of late. Case in point, Hudson and company will be showing up at The Boot Top any moment. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

As always, Haviland was thrilled to enter the restaurant’s kitchen, his nose raised high in the air in search of the source of a dozen mouth-watering smells. He was an obedient dog, however, and knew he was not supposed to linger in the room in which so many tantalizing dishes were prepared. Reluctantly, he trotted to Olivia’s office and sat on his haunches in the center of the doorway, eyes hopeful and mouth open in anticipation.

Michel, The Boot Top’s master chef, was too busy inspecting a baking sheet piled with rows of fresh beef tenderloin to notice the poodle’s beseeching looks.

“A wine reduction for tonight’s beef. We’ll serve it with a medley of spring vegetables. Jeremy?” he called to one of the sous-chefs. “You’re in charge of the asparagus.”

After collecting a bowl of peeled garlic cloves from the walk-in, Michel began sharpening the long blade of a chopping knife, humming merrily all the while.

“You’re quite chipper,” Olivia observed. “The DAR’s monthly social usually has you bent out of shape. You always complain about having to prepare entrees before six o’clock.”

Without glancing away from the cutting board, Michel began to mince garlic. Olivia loved to watch him work. The knife blade became an extension of his hand, flashing as it moved with lighting quickness from left to right, then top to bottom, leaving a mound of perfectly diced garlic on the striated wood of the cutting board.

“It’s my new muse,” Michel stated with a wiggle of his brows. “She inspires me to overlook those blue-blooded hags who force me to begin my workday too early.”

Olivia watched as the pile of garlic grew higher. “A new muse? That’s good. For a while there I was genuinely concerned that you’d fallen for Laurel.”

Michel turned his face away. “She is très magnifique, your friend, but she is devoted to that miserable husband of hers. If she only knew . . .”

He abruptly scooped the garlic into a metal bowl and walked over to the sous-chef’s station to collect bunches of fresh parsley. He avoided meeting Olivia’s sharp gaze.

“Michel?” Olivia felt a tightening in her muscles. She felt protective of Laurel, even though the young mother of twin boys had begun to exhibit a refreshing amount of grit and determination. Laurel fought a daily battle with her family over the right to continue her work as a writer for the Oyster Bay Gazette, and Olivia hated the thought of anyone bringing her friend down. “What were you going to say?”

“That Lovely Laurel doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Michel answered airily. “A man of my skills and my passion comes along once in a lifetime, am I right?”

Olivia laughed, relaxing. “And modest as well.”

The Boot Top’s bartender entered the kitchen. “There’s a Hudson Salter here to see you,” Gabe announced over the din.

Issuing a resigned sigh over having to hold a conversation with her moody and tight-lipped sibling, Olivia followed Gabe through the swinging door and out to the bar area. Hudson was standing with his arms crossed over his lean chest, shifting uncomfortably. Dressed in denim overalls over a faded blue T-shirt, he looked out of place in the sleek, sophisticated room with its polished wood, leather seats, and ochre walls. His wife, Kim, was also ill at ease but disguised it better. She had one hand resting on her swollen belly and the other on the crown of her daughter’s head. Caitlyn hid her face in her mother’s cotton dress and peeked out at Olivia with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Of the three Salters, the little girl interested Olivia the most. As a general rule, she didn’t find children very fascinating, but here before her was a pint-sized human being who shared her DNA.

“Hi,” she said quietly, directing a small smile at the child. “I know someone who will be very pleased to see you again. Do you remember Haviland?”

Caitlyn nodded once.

“Would you like to feed him dinner? He’s waiting very patiently in my office, which is back through that door leading into the kitchen.”

Kim nudged the little girl forward. “Go on, honey. We’ll be right out here.”

Shaking her head, Caitlyn refused to leave her mother’s side.

Unasked, Gabe moved forward and extended his hand. “Maybe I could show you how I make a very special drink for very special kids. It’s called a Shirley Temple. Have you ever had one?”

“No, sir.” Caitlyn’s voice was a whisper.

“I always put an orange slice and two cherries in mine. Do you want to help me? I might give you an extra cherry as payment, and you can still see your folks from behind the bar.”

Caitlyn ignored Gabe’s hand, but she did detach herself from Kim and follow the bartender. Olivia felt a rush of pride and affection for Gabe. For a man in his midtwenties, he was skilled at reading people of all ages. With his all-American, surfer-boy good looks and gentle, earnest manner, he charmed everyone he met.

“Can I get you anything?” Olivia asked the Salters, though she knew her offer would be refused. Hudson’s body language proclaimed his desire to escape the upscale atmosphere of the restaurant as soon as possible.

Olivia sympathized with Hudson. He’d spent his entire life on the small island of Okracoke where he and Kim had run a small inn and café. He was a simple man and showed incredible talent in the kitchen, but he hadn’t been exposed to many cultural experiences, and Olivia suspected he often felt inferior to his older half sister.

But Hudson and Olivia had bonded over one thing: the lack of affection shown to them by their late father. Luckily for Hudson, he had a sweet and patient wife and a lovely daughter to keep his heart from hardening, and Olivia hoped that by working together with her brother, she and he would come to truly care for each other.

“We think we found a house today,” Kim said brightly and smiled at her husband. “It’s real cute, but it’ll be strange to not be able to see the sea out the window.”

Olivia nodded. “I remember feeling that way when I lived in my grandmother’s house. It had dozens of rooms and beautiful gardens, but I had a hard time going to sleep because I couldn’t hear the ocean. There was no rhythm without the waves.” She paused. “Do you want to keep looking? I could get you a rental until you find the right place.”

“We can’t afford an ocean view. Ever,” Hudson said grimly. “They’ve all been taken by folks that only live here a few months a year.”

Kim put a placating hand on her husband’s arm. “The view’s not important. Really. What’s important is that there are a bunch of kids in the neighborhood. Caitlyn needs to make friends her own age. She’s been playing with make-believe ones long enough.” Worry creased her brow. “Caitlyn believes she can tell when folks are up to no good.” She put both palms on her belly and rubbed tenderly, as though trying to assure the child she carried that all was well. “Other kids think she’s weird and—”

“Kim, we’re here on business.” Hudson’s dark eyes reminded Olivia so much of her father’s that she nearly flinched. There was a constant spark of wariness deep in both men’s pupils. Apparently, Caitlyn’s odd behavior had touched a nerve in Hudson.

Olivia touched the starfish pendant that had once belonged to her mother and calmly asked her brother if he’d had a chance to work on the menu for The Bayside Crab House.

Food was a topic that brought out the best in Hudson Salter. He was a gifted cook and was as particular and creative as Michel when it came to presentation, the use of fresh ingredients, and unique flavor combinations.

Hudson pulled a sheet of paper from the center pocket of his overalls and shyly handed it to Olivia. For an instant, she longed to grab his hand, to tell him that she understood how difficult it must have been to have spent a lifetime desperate to earn his father’s approval, and that she believed in him, but the moment passed.

She leaned over and studied his menu suggestions.

“I’ve got local suppliers for clam, shrimp, and every fish in the sea, but I don’t have anyone I trust to supply oysters or mussels.” She pointed to the section on the paper listing Hudson’s ideas for raw bar items.

“I’m gonna need to meet your guys,” Hudson said. “No one from the island will cross the channel to bring me so much as a stick of butter. They all think I’m turning my back on my home.”

Olivia dropped her eyes to the menu. “Change is hard on those who leave and on those who are left behind. But you’re going to be a part of a landmark eatery. Both of you. And with these entrees, The Bayside Crab House is going to be packed every night. I love your idea to blend the crab with avocado and pico de gallo. Also, this seafood platter combo that includes scallop scampi, coconut shrimp, snow crab, and a petite lobster tail is sure to be a crowd pleaser.”

Hudson’s expression didn’t change, but Olivia knew the compliment had registered by the way her half brother’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.

“Overall, I think this is an excellent menu. We’ll have to add another fishless vegetarian item and a few additional topping options for the burger platters. If we get a patron who doesn’t care for seafood, then at least we can smother that customer’s burger with grilled onions and bacon.” She made a note on Hudson’s paper. “Otherwise, I think we’re ready to print our first menus. Do you want to be involved in the graphic design decisions?”

Hudson shook his head, but Kim raised her hand as though she were in school. “I’d like to help with that. I know our place on Okracoke was nothing fancy and I just ran off our menus on the computer, but I was a pretty good artist once. Since I’m not much use in the kitchen . . .”

“You got that right,” Hudson teased.

Olivia gave her brother a playful shake of her index finger and then looked at Kim. “I’d love to have your assistance. As a matter of fact, I thought I’d leave Hudson in the capable hands of my contractor. He’ll be down at the site. You and Caitlyn can hang out in my office and we’ll go through catalogues, come up with a layout, and then call the printers.”

Kim beamed.

When Olivia and Kim arrived in Olivia’s office, Caitlyn was sipping her drink happily on the floor. Haviland was stretched out alongside the little girl, his head resting on her skinny leg.

“She wants a pet real bad,” Kim whispered to Olivia. “But Hudson’s always said she wasn’t old enough to handle the responsibility. Maybe once we get settled and he has the restaurant to run, he’ll give in.” She reached out and grabbed Olivia’s arm. “He may not speak the words, but we’re grateful to you. We were barely staying afloat, and our house felt strange after Willie died. Now we can have a fresh start.” She glanced at Caitlyn, and worry tugged at the corners of her mouth. “All of us.”

Embarrassed by the compliment, Olivia suggested they get to work. Kim had a talent for drawing and quickly sketched several designs for the menu’s cover. Olivia liked the one featuring Oyster Bay’s lighthouse and harbor in the background with a plump, mischievous-looking crab in the foreground.

“How about a sunset?” Kim asked, tapping her lips with a pencil. “It would make you feel like night’s coming on and there isn’t a better place to be come suppertime than at The Bayside Crab House. Sit out on the deck, listen to live music, and eat the best seafood in town while the sun goes down.”

Buoyed by Kim’s enthusiasm, Olivia agreed to the final design and then searched the computer for additional images and fonts.

While they worked, the noise in the kitchen escalated. Haviland had obviously been fed, as he was no longer gazing at Michel in worship, and Caitlyn was amusing herself by slowly consuming every piece of ice in her glass. Everyone was busy. Olivia felt a sense of deep satisfaction. She loved the sound of people at work.

After scanning Kim’s sketch, Olivia asked her to type up Hudson’s menu items. Once that was done, Olivia would e-mail the document to the printer along with their font choice. Kim readily agreed and began to peck at the keys one finger at a time. Not wanting to hover as Kim worked, Olivia left Haviland with the Salters and walked back out to the bar area.

“Gabe, I believe you’ve added another name to your long list of female admirers. Thank you for being kind to Caitlyn.”

Gabe acknowledged the praise with a smile and pointed at the brass clock in the shape of a ship’s wheel. He then set a tumbler filled with irregular-shaped ice cubes and two fingers’ worth of Chivas Regal Reserve on a napkin. “She’s a neat kid. Doesn’t say much, but you can tell she’s smart.” He poured a blend of tropical juices over ice in a highball glass and then added a splash of lemon-lime soda. “That’s for the other lady. Is she your . . . ?”

“Sister-in-law,” Olivia replied. “Hudson is my half brother. I didn’t even know he existed until this fall.”

Gabe paused in the act of polishing the spotless bar. “Whoa. And he’s going to move here?”

Olivia nodded and took a large sip of her drink.

Obviously sensing his employer’s reticence to elaborate on her newfound family, Gabe continued with his prep work. But after she’d collected Kim’s drink and turned toward the kitchen, he looked up from the dish he was filling with green olives and said, “It’s probably going to be weird for a while, but I’m glad you found each other. Family keeps you anchored, you know? Like the boats out that window. Even in a strong wind, they won’t be set adrift.”

Olivia was tempted to give Gabe a snide retort about bartender wisdom but knew that he meant well. She acknowledged his statement with a dip of her chin and returned to the kitchen.

Michel had just left the office, and Caitlyn was once again buried in the folds of her mother’s sundress.

“Why are you acting like this, honey?” Olivia heard Kim ask.

“I don’t like that man,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice trembling.

Kim stroked her daughter’s hair, but she didn’t look concerned. “Sweetie, he just looked scary using those big, sharp knives. But Daddy has the same ones at home. It doesn’t mean they’re going to hurt anyone. It’s just a tool, like how a barber uses scissors.”

Caitlyn scooted away, her eyes flashing. “I’m not scared of knives. I just don’t like him.”

Clearing her throat, Olivia entered the office and handed Kim her drink. She looked at Caitlyn. “Why does he scare you?” she asked very gently.

Perhaps because an adult was taking her seriously, Caitlyn answered right away. “He’s got a secret. I can tell.”

Olivia nodded. “He probably does. Most people have secrets, I think.”

Caitlyn was silent for so long that Olivia doubted she’d answer, but the little girl finally murmured, “Like Betty did. I knew she wrote you that letter. The one she sent when Grandpa got too sick to come downstairs anymore. Mom told me. She said that’s why we met you.”

Taking an involuntary step backward, Olivia recalled the mixture of anger and anguish she’d felt after reading the anonymous letter. The claim that her father was still alive coupled with the demand for one thousand dollars in cash for more information had filled her with fury. Even now, a fresh wave of hostility toward her father’s longtime friend and nurse swept over her at the memory.

Kim looked down at the floor, discomfited by the topic, but Caitlyn moved forward and took hold of Olivia’s hand. “But I’m glad she wrote it, because my daddy found a sister,” she whispered and then immediately retreated to the floor and buried her small fingers in Haviland’s fur.

After the Salters left, Olivia stood in the doorway of her office, studying Michel’s face as he shoved a live lobster deep into a pot of boiling water.

Nothing struck her as being amiss.

But I’ve been wrong before, Olivia thought and returned to the bar for a refill.