A Killer Plot (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

he breezed into the room. “How delicious!”
    A faint blush tinged Millay’s cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look tough.
    “Doing introductions, are we? Excellent! Who’s next?” Camden gestured at the young man resembling Peter Pan.
    “Um.” He looked at Olivia as his fingers mangled a gruyere pinwheel. “I’m Harris Williams.” He pushed a wave of soft hair from his forehead. “I’m into computers. I create graphics for fantasy games. I’ve got the best job in the world. Flexible hours, a good salary, and I have a lot in common with my coworkers. We’re all pretty smart but we don’t have the greatest people skills.”
    “Imagine that,” Camden teased. “Go on, man, before the food gets cold.”
    “Sorry. Um, I’m a sci-fi guy. My book’s about the imminent destruction of the Planet Zulton. A group of one hundred Zultons have been chosen to start a new colony on the planet Remus. Their leader is a warrior princess named Zenobia.” Noticing the confused looks of his audience, Harris hurriedly concluded. “Anyway, a spacecraft carrying convicts destined for a life sentence of hard labor crash lands on Zulton and these guys kill a bunch of the Chosen Ones. Zenobia and one of the criminals—”
    “Very Flash Gordon, isn’t it!” Camden arched an eyebrow for Olivia’s benefit and then directed his attention to a flustered woman in her early thirties. “And you’ve already had the pleasure of listening to some of Laurel’s work. Give Olivia the 411 on your exciting life, my dear.”
    The woman giggled. “I don’t know about exciting, but my name’s Laurel Hobbs. I’m a stay-at-home mom with twin boys. Dallas and Dermot. They’re twenty-seven months and a real handful. You’ve probably heard us in the grocery store.” Even her laugh, high and melodious, was lovely. “I try to write when they’re napping, but it’s hard to find the time with laundry and making dinner and all the errands. The twins are at such a demanding age, but I think they’re just naughty because they’re so smart. Would you like to see a picture of them?” she asked Olivia and began fumbling beneath her chair. “I have a whole bunch in my purse.”
    Olivia stared at her in horror. Camden quickly intervened before Laurel could locate her purse. “Tell our hostess about your writing, darling.”
    Laurel blinked. “Oh, right!” she exclaimed with another nervous giggle. “My dream is to write romance novels. Like Nora Roberts or Danielle Steel. I’ve wanted to write books like theirs ever since I read my first romance in high school.”
    Camden smiled benevolently at Laurel and then gestured at Olivia. “You’re at bat. Swing away.”
    Olivia smoothed the tablecloth. She’d never told anyone but Dixie about her novel and wondered what the others would think of her story line. Taking a deep breath, she tersely explained, “My manuscript in progress is a work of historical fiction. It’s set in ancient Egypt and focuses on the struggles of a young concubine in the household of Ramses the Great.”
    “The little slut!” Camden poured himself a glass of wine. “Your Egyptian vixen would fit right in with my troupe of thinly veiled fictional celebrities. Yes, indeed. I know the real man my ‘hero’ is based on well enough to be certain he would simply salivate over a piece of tanned jail bait wearing a transparent linen shift.”
    Laurel gazed at the gossip writer in adoration. “I still can’t believe you’re friends with famous people!”
    Camden flicked his wrist at her. “Puh-lease! We are not friends. I know more big names than you could fit in this lovely, very feng shui room, but don’t be impressed, my dear. Most celebrities are vain, vapid, and filled with vice.” He plucked a shrimp wonton from the tray and placed it delicately in the center of a cocktail napkin. “Did you catch my alliteration there, my dears? Now Olivia, tell us about you.”
    “Please help yourselves.” Olivia pointed a dictatorial finger at the food trays. She waited until the writers focused on refilling their plates and then said, “I’m Olivia Limoges. I live out on the point with my standard poodle, Captain Haviland. He’s sleeping in my office at the moment,” she added when Laurel peered under the tablecloth. “I’m unmarried and childless and plan to stay that way. Now that this place”—she gesticulated around the room—“and my rental properties are up and running,