insisted that too much detail would detract from Zenobia. “She’s the star.”
Olivia told Harris that she liked both the pacing and descriptive detail, but didn’t understand why Zenobia was disappointed over being hailed as Hunter, a rare and special title given to only the bravest of leaders. “You show us her emotions, but don’t explain why she feels the way she does. And what about the mineral they went to mine in the first place? Are they going back for it or are there more creatures in those caverns?”
Harris was about to reply when a ping came from Olivia’s cell phone, indicating she’d just received a text message. “I’d better see if that’s Rawlings,” she said, getting up from the club chair and moving into the small kitchen. Scooping her phone up from the counter, she glanced at the text box and read the enigmatic message from Rawlings.
“Is it the chief?” Harris asked. “I hope he shows up. I need a guy’s take on this chapter. No offense to the ladies, of course.”
Millay hit him in the face with a throw pillow. “Offense taken, loser. Your book features a female protagonist! If you want to resonate with female readers, then you should count yourself lucky to have three savvy chicks reviewing your drafts.”
Harris protested until Laurel cut him off by saying, “I hear a car.”
“That’s Rawlings.” Olivia held out her phone and pointed at the text window. “He asked me to meet him outside. Alone.”
Millay’s brows rose. “Oooooh! A tryst? Right in the middle of our critique session?”
Olivia glowered at her. She had done her best to act casual in Rawlings’ presence, to understate her relationship with the chief whenever anyone else was around, and she didn’t like Millay calling attention to it. “He didn’t text me a bunch of
x
s and
o
s,” she said tersely. “I don’t know what he wants, but it can’t be good if he won’t talk about it in front of everyone. Be right back.”
Haviland jumped up from his position next to the sofa and joined Olivia as she made her way outside. Rawlings, who was dressed in uniform, was talking on his cell phone. When he saw Olivia, he quickly finished his conversation and tossed the phone onto the driver’s seat.
“Am I under arrest?” Olivia teased, holding out her wrists. The chief’s mouth narrowed to a grim line and he stiffened his shoulders, making it clear that he was in no mood for jokes.
Rawlings gave Haviland’s head a cursory pat and then moved closer to Olivia.
“We need to talk,” he said, and in his voice Olivia heard an unmistakable command. He hadn’t asked her to step outside because he wanted to have an intimate personal exchange, but because he had something to tell her. Something unpleasant.
She folded her arms defensively over her chest, as if to shield herself from whatever Rawlings had to say. “What’s going on?”
Casting a quick glance at the house, Rawlings took Olivia’s elbow. “Let’s go down by the water.”
Sensing that Laurel, Millay, and Harris were watching them from the living room window, she nodded and turned toward the beach. Haviland darted ahead, eager to chase the few shorebirds wading through the shallows before day gave way to night.
The approach of twilight had painted the sky with strokes of pink and orange. The colors shimmered on the surface of the glassy ocean and the pastel hues seemed to be coming in on the tide. Olivia longed to hold on to this picture of beauty, to delay Rawlings for a moment or two.
“I know,” he said as if she’d spoken aloud. “It’s stunning. The end of a summer day. The citrus shades will be replaced by soft purples and blues. The first star will appear out there, low on the sky, and a breeze will move through the dune grasses. It’s my favorite time of the day, Olivia, and I’d love to take your hand and walk on the beach until the moon rises, but this can’t wait. I have to ruin this moment. I’m sorry.”
Olivia heard
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