Written in Stone (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

the doctor and held out his hand in introduction. Olivia couldn’t hear him speak, but she knew he’d address the civilian in a pleasant, courteous voice. The chief’s soft-spoken, almost humble manner didn’t diminish his authority, however. In fact, it often increased it.
    Olivia never tired of watching Rawlings take command of a situation. He did so now by giving the doctor his full attention, listening to the angry physician as if no one else existed. Rawlings didn’t take a single note and remained completely calm while the other man gesticulated, spat, and cursed.
    After a few moments, the chief approached Olivia, his face unreadable. She nearly looked away, suddenly discomfited by her rash behavior.
    “If you wanted to see me, you could have just called,” Rawlings growled.
    “But this is more unpredictable,” she quipped. “Keeps things spicy. I was just following one of
Cosmo
’s recommendations.”
    Rawlings pulled off his sunglasses and jerked a thumb at the trashed Corvette. “Somehow, I doubt I was on your mind when you stomped on the gas pedal.”
    Shrugging, Olivia said, “He deserved it. I’d do it again given the chance.”
    With a slight shake of the head, Rawlings peered over Olivia’s shoulder and she was warmed by the realization that he was checking on Haviland.
    She nearly smiled at him, but then had a strong feeling that half the town’s population was studying them. The junior police officers had ceased writing reports or shooing bystanders away from the intersection and were staring at their chief with unconcealed interest.
    Olivia didn’t like it. She was an extremely private person and had kept her burgeoning relationship with Rawlings under wraps. The only places they’d shared meals or drinks in public had been at one of her restaurants. She’d convinced the chief to spend most nights at her place instead of his house in town, and was rarely seen with him during the day.
    “We’re like a vampire couple,” he’d observed one evening as they drank cocktails on her deck and watched the surf curl onto the shore beneath a sickle moon.
    “Not really. Vampires are always young and beautiful,” she’d countered.
    Rawlings had taken her hand. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
    Olivia had left her chair and settled onto his lap, her long legs curling around his waist. She’d kissed him and he’d run his strong fingers through her hair, which was the same white gold as the moonlight. Eventually, he’d led her inside and up the stairs to the bedroom.
    Now, in the bright summer sunshine, Olivia didn’t know how to behave around the chief, especially since her lack of judgment had brought him here. She’d exposed them both to public scrutiny and she began to regret her decision to punish the obnoxious tourists.
    Glancing around again, Olivia noticed that the stares of the locals were mostly well meaning. These were not the calculating looks of the paparazzi who’d trailed after her throughout her twenties and early thirties, snapping countless photos of Olivia with her latest beau. She’d dated models, actors, a minor royal, and several Fortune 500 executives, but no one ever lasted beyond a month or two. No one had ever taken her breath away. Not until she’d met Sawyer Rawlings.
    “Excuse me, sir.” The toddler’s mother tapped Rawlings on the arm. “I think I know how this accident happened. You see, my daughter’s arm was burned when the woman in the Corvette threw her cigarette toward the sidewalk.” She was deliberately sticking to the facts. “Catherine, my little girl, is okay. It’s just a tiny surface burn, but when it happened she screamed really loud. She’s not even two and the pain took her by surprise,” she added apologetically. “Anyway, I think this lady saw the cigarette butt hit my daughter and got distracted.” She smiled at Olivia. “Sorry, but I didn’t catch your name before.”
    “I’m Olivia Limoges. And this is Chief Rawlings.”
    Rawlings was studying the woman with concern. “Are you certain your daughter is all right, Mrs. . . . ?”
    “Cimino. Lori Cimino. Yes, Cat’s fine. But I wanted you to know that I don’t think this would have happened if that woman hadn’t tossed her cigarette butt into the street.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Cimino. Would you be willing to fill out a report on the incident? I believe this individual needs to be taught a lesson about littering.”
    The woman nodded, a