Written in Stone Read Free

omelet the size of a beret, their eyes grew round with appreciation.
    “That should hold ’em for five minutes,” she said, coming to an abrupt stop at Olivia’s
     booth, her silver tutu billowing as she applied the brakes. “Back to the witch. Her
     name is Munin and one of my cousins went to see her over the weekend.” Dixie pulled
     a stray thread from her left tube sock and lowered her voice. “He and his woman want
     a baby real bad but it’s just not happenin’. They’ve both been checked out and there’s
     nothin’ wrong, medically speakin’. Been goin’ on five years since they started tryin’.
     Munin is kind of their last hope.”
    Olivia dabbed her lips with a paper napkin. “And can they expect a healthy set of
     triplets nine months from now?”
    “I reckon not,” Dixie replied. “See, Munin doesn’t take cash or checks. You have to
     bring her somethin’ that’s real precious to you to get her help. If the witch doesn’t
     think what you brought is special enough, she won’t lift a finger for you.”
    “What does she do with the objects?”
    Dixie shrugged. “Who knows?”
    Impatient to return to her manuscript, Olivia offered to tell Laurel about Munin.
     “The big shot of the
Oyster Bay Gazette
staff might not cover the story herself, but maybe one of the Features writers would
     be interested.”
    With a scowl, Dixie picked up Olivia’s empty plate. “I’m not tellin’ you about the
     witch so that you can turn her into a Disneyland attraction. I’m only tellin’ you
     about her because she sent a message back with my cousin.”
    “For you?”
    “No.” Dixie piled Olivia’s silverware and crumpled napkin on top of the dirty plate.
     “For you.”
    Bomb dropped, Dixie skated off to the kitchen with her tray. She then tarried at the
     two remaining tables, filling water cups, delivering a fresh syrup jug, fetching extra
     napkins, and exchanging small talk.
    Haviland stood up, yawned, and stretched, indicating he’d had enough of the diner
     for one day.
    “Just a few more minutes, Captain,” Olivia promised her dog. “Let me strangle the
     resident dwarf and then we’ll be on our way.”
    As though sensing her friend’s ire, Dixie lazily coasted back to the window booth.
     “Ah, so now you’re chompin’ at the bit to hear about our witch. Well, I won’t keep
     you in suspense another second.” She grinned wryly. “Munin asked my cousin if he knew
     you. He said everybody knows who you are, but only a couple of folks know you well.
     The jackass mentioned my name and told Munin that you and I were friends. So the message
     came to me.”
    Olivia felt a constriction in her gut. She sensed that once Dixie relayed the message,
     her life would be altered yet again. Perhaps not greatly, but she didn’t welcome any
     more change.
    In the last year alone, she’d opened a second restaurant, reunited with a father she’d
     believed dead only to watch him die, discovered the existence of a half brother, and
     fallen for Oyster Bay’s chief of police. Olivia Limoges was a woman who liked to be
     in control of her own future, and as of late, she’d been unable to exert much influence
     over her fate.
    She turned toward the window, observing locals and tourists going about their business,
     unburdened by the press of circumstance. “What does the witch want from me?”
    Dixie’s grin faded, replaced by a look of solemn concern. Because she was adept at
     concealing her feelings, it was easy to forget that Olivia had been put through the
     wringer over the past few months. Dixie spoke to her friend very gently. “Munin wants
     you to come to her. Says she’s got somethin’ of your mama’s to show you. Apparently,
     she’s been waitin’ for the right time to send for you and now the time’s come.”
    Olivia was unprepared for this. “That’s ridiculous. Why would my mother, a librarian
     and do-gooder, have given something to a woman known as the local witch?