In the middle of the night she had gone downstairs, intending to relieve him of his Brody guard duty, whether he wanted her to or not. But she had found him fast asleep, sitting in her chair, with a very contented Cleopatra curled on his chest. Savannah had decided it was best not to disturb him.
But he couldn’t have gotten any true, quality sleep, comfortable chair or not. Nothing was as good as the coziness of one’s own bed.
She had already predicted that, true to habit, tonight he would be ready for bed right after dinner. She was determined to make sure that he hit the sheets far earlier than usual. No matter what was going on.
No one could be on duty twenty-four hours a day. At least, not for long.
“Be safe,” she told him as he scooped his keys up from the kitchen counter.
She realized, of course, that those two simple words, uttered at the beginning of each and every one of his shifts couldn’t actually ward off bullets or knife blades, or flying fists or broken bottles, let alone wrong-way speeding vehicles on the freeways.
There was no foolproof talisman that could protect a police officer from all the various harms that could befall him “out there.” There were no magic words that would ensure he would return to his family at the end of his shift as healthy and whole as he had been when leaving his home.
But she had to say them anyway, because in her heart Savannah was absolutely sure those two simple, routine words of benediction helped.
Though she wasn’t sure how.
Perhaps it was the love behind the words that provided the badly needed protection. There might not be a lot of strength in simple words, she told herself, but there’s a heap of power in love.
He smiled at her and headed out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he called for Brody to “Shake some tail feathers up there, buddy. Get a move on!”
As always, when Dirk left Savannah’s presence, she missed him. Even before he’d stepped out of their house and into that unpredictable, anything-but-safe world out there.
When she heard Brody tearing down the stairs like a herd of wildebeests, shouting, “Okay, my tail feathers are all shook! Let’s go-o-o!” and the door slamming behind them, Savannah realized . . . now she had two beloved boys to worry about and miss.
Every woman should be so fortunate.
Chapter 14
Less than five minutes after Dirk and Brody left, Savannah was in the upstairs hallway, beside the linen closet, handing Carolyn her best guest towels for her shower, when she heard the front door open and close.
“Dadgum. Brody must have forgotten his lunch pail again,” Savannah said.
“I’m pretty sure he had it with him,” Carolyn told her. “Red with a dinosaur on it?”
“That’s the one.”
Then Savannah heard a cheery voice, virtually dripping with honey and liquid, golden sunshine, and she groaned.
That particular voice was a bit too sunny most mornings for Savannah’s taste. On an especially bad day, before she had reached an optimal percentage of caffeine in her bloodstream, Savannah found such unbridled gaiety unbearable and had to restrain herself from getting physical with her assistant/best friend.
She thought she should at least be allowed to apply a bit of duct tape to her mouth and by doing, buy herself half an hour of blissful peace and quiet.
“Savannah! Yoo-hoo! It’s just little ol’ us! Are you home?! Sa-vaaa-nah?” warbled the familiar, female voice. Since its owner was one of Savannah’s favorite people in the world, she chose to forgive her for her habitual, overt, and ill-timed displays of joie de vivre.
After all, nobody was perfect.
“That’s Tammy, my assistant, sister-in-law, and best friend,” Savannah told Carolyn. “Not necessarily in that order.”
“Hmm. She sounds . . . chirpy.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it. She can make a robin who just ate a fat, juicy worm sound positively suicidal. The happiest person I know. From the moment she jumps out of bed at the crack of dawn. But I love her anyway.”
Savannah handed Carolyn the soft, white, terrycloth bathrobe that was reserved for very special guests, like Gran when she stayed overnight. Then she called out, “I’m up here, Tamitha. I’ll be down in a minute. Make yourself at home.”
She turned back to Carolyn and took a quick inventory of all she had just placed in the woman’s arms: towels, robe, jasmine-scented bubble bath, and her best shampoo and conditioner.
“There are pink votive candles on the windowsill,” she told Carolyn, waving a hand toward the open bathroom door. “Feel free to pull the shade down and light them.”
“What a luxury! Candles and a bubble bath in the morning? How deliciously decadent.”
“If everyone would treat themselves to a candlelit bath when they first rolled out of bed in the morning, in my humble opinion, the world would be a more peaceful, loving place.”
Carolyn looked at the label on the yellow, jasmine bottle. “Not to mention a more fragrant one. Thank you for this treat.”
“My pleasure. Enjoy it for as long as you want.”
While you have the chance, Savannah added to herself, knowing all too well that, if Dirk’s and her suspicions proved true, life would be getting terribly complicated for Carolyn Erling very soon.
As Carolyn disappeared into the bathroom, Savannah turned to walk down the hall toward the staircase and saw that Tammy was on her way up. She was carrying little Vanna Rose, Savannah’s adorable toddler niece and namesake, on her hip.
The moment the tiny girl, with bouncing red curls and an angelic face, saw Savannah, her smile turned into peals of baby laughter. Savannah’s very favorite sound in the world.
The toddler started jumping up and down so wildly that Tammy nearly dropped her. Her tiny arms were outstretched, reaching for Savannah, as she squealed with delight.
“Settle down, sweetcheeks,” Tammy told her. “You’d think you hadn’t seen Auntie for ages, instead of two days.”
When Tammy reached the top of the stairs, she set the little girl on her teeny feet, which were adorned with penguin booties with bells on them.
The baby and the accompanying, jingling penguins practically flew to Savannah, who scooped her up in her arms and placed a flurry of kisses on her chubby, pink cheeks.
“Wow! You’re getting that walking business down pat, puddin’,” Savannah told her. “At this rate, you’ll be ready for the San Carmelita Marathon next month.”
“Oh, we’ve already registered!” Tammy told her. “She’ll be participating, too. In the stroller, of course.”
“Of course.”
Savannah smiled, thinking how different Tammy’s life was now, compared to only a few years ago. Back then, Tammy was known in the town as the beautiful, athletic woman with the long blond hair, who could be seen running along the foothill road every morning without fail.
In the middle of a torrential rain with the sides of the road transformed into rivers, Tammy ran. Earthquakes, brushfires, nothing stopped her. Year after year.
Then, the townsfolk noticed that the slender young woman was gaining a bit of weight—especially in her tummy area. After a few months, it became obvious that the extra poundage was a baby bump.
“That’s it,” they said. “She’s a mother now. Her running days are coming to an end.” They added that they would miss seeing her, receiving her friendly waves and her radiant smiles.
As winter faded into spring, the bump grew larger and larger, then for a few days, no one saw her on the roads.
Less than a week later, she reappeared. Still running but pushing a stroller.
Now Savannah couldn’t tell who enjoyed the mother/ daughter runs the most—Tammy, Vanna Rose, or the townspeople, who felt they had somehow shared in the pretty, blond lady’s journey.
Savannah looked Tammy up and down, taking in her sweat-damp running gear. “Don’t tell me you cut your run short just to come visit me,” she said. “That day will never dawn.”
Tammy shook her head and looked annoyed. At least, as annoyed as Miss Tammy Sunshine and Lightness ever got. “No. A wheel popped off the stroller, and I need a screwdriver to put it back on. We were just a few blocks away, so I thought we’d come borrow one from you rather than ask Waycross to pick us up. He’s putting a very special paint job on that old Studebaker he’s been restoring. Heaven forbid that I should interrupt that!”
“He’d be glad to come rescue his girlies no matter what he was doing,” Savannah said, kissing Vanna’s baby hand. “But you know where the toolbox is. Just help yourself. I’ll keep our fairy princess here occupied. Let me know if you need a hand.”
“Thanks.” Tammy turned to leave, then reconsidered, stopped, and turned back to Savannah. “Oh! I forgot to tell you. I’ve got some news, if you haven’t heard it already.”
“What’s that?” Savannah asked, thinking Tammy’s face was even more flushed than from her routine run. It had to be something juicy.
“It’s awful. That veterinarian friend of Brody’s, Carolyn What’s-Her-Name, her husband died last night.”
Savannah raised one hand in traffic cop fashion, “Um, actually—”
“I heard they suspect foul play.”
“Well, you shouldn’t—”
“Apparently, he wasn’t a very popular guy. A real jerk they say, especially with women, if you know what I mean.”
“Sh-h-h. Tammy, seriously . . .” Savannah said, glancing behind her at the bathroom door.
To her horror, Carolyn was standing there, wearing the robe and a stricken expression on her face.
Savannah turned back to Tammy, who moved a step closer, so she could see what Savannah was looking at. When Tammy spotted the open bathroom door and Carolyn standing there, a look of horror spread across her face.
Savannah’s heart sank, feeling for both women. Carolyn, of course, didn’t need to hear something like that at such a time. And poor Tammy was the politest person Savannah had ever known, the least likely to commit such a dreadful faux pas.
The three women stood for what seemed like ten years in awkward, embarrassed silence.
Only little Vanna seemed to be enjoying the moment as she pulled one of Savannah’s curls and squealed with delight to see it bounce back when she released it.
Finally, Savannah found her voice and said, “Um, Dr. Carolyn, meet my dearest friend in the world, Tammy Hart-Reid. A truly lovely person who, instead of swatting flies like the rest of us, traps them under drinking glasses. Then she releases them outside, after thinking long and hard about which pleasant spot in the garden she would want to be released in if she was a fly. So, I can assure you that, at this moment, she feels lower than slug slime at the bottom of a roadside ditch.”
Savannah turned to Tammy. “Tammy, as you may have guessed by the scarlet glow of my cheeks, this is Brody’s good friend, Dr. Carolyn Erling. She spent the night with us because. . . well, you already know. Brody says she’s about the nicest person he’s ever known, so she probably won’t hold what you just said against you.” She sighed. “At least, we hope not.”
Tammy gulped. Then choked. But remained speechless.
Carolyn stared at Savannah, a helpless, lost look in her eyes.
Another ten years passed. Savannah could feel herself aging by the moment. Her skin wrinkling, her hair turning white, her chin, butt, and boobs sagging.
Finally, at long last, Carolyn spoke. “I just wanted to ask if I can have a washcloth.”
* * *
A few minutes later, Savannah walked out the back door of her house and onto the patio. She was still holding the squirmy Vanna Rose with her left arm. In her right hand was a bunch of tissues.
She walked over to Tammy, who was bent over the stroller, screwdriver in hand, fastening the wheel onto its axle and sobbing.
Shoving the tissues at her, Savannah said, “Buck up, buttercup. Could’ve been worse.”
Tammy looked up at her with red, tear-filled eyes. “How?” she asked. “How could that have been any awfuller than it was?”
“Well, yeah. You’ve got a point there. Positive spin: Nowhere to go but up.”
Tammy glanced over Savannah’s shoulder, then all around the yard and up at the house’s windows, making sure they were alone before she added, “Thank goodness I didn’t mention that people are also saying it may have been his wife who did him in. Talk is she and he were about to get divorced.”
“Glad you left that little tidbit out,” Savannah said. She bent down, closer to Tammy, and whispered, “Is that really what they’re saying?”
Tammy nodded. “Yes. That’s the consensus.”
“Who is ‘they’?”
“Social media comments. The town’s page posted a short little obit-thingy for him, ‘Famous San Carmelita Brain Surgeon Dies at His Birthday Party.’ Then under the post, a ton of people chimed in about how much they didn’t like him. Some even hated him. You know how people are. Especially when they’re anonymous.”
“Yes. I do. They’re like a pack of hyenas on a zebra corpse. Can you get me a copy of that? I want to see what they said, and if I can, figure out who those anonymous ones are.”
“Then it’s true?” Tammy stood and dusted off her hands and knees. “He was murdered?”
“We won’t know until we hear from Dr. Liu, but it might be homicide. We were there last night, you know.”
“Get outta here! No way!”
“Brody got us invited to the birthday party.”
“Did you meet him, the victim, before . . . you know. . . .”
“Yes, and after spending maybe a minute conversing with him, I can tell you now, you can add me to the list of potential suspects who would have enjoyed doing him in.”
“That bad?”
“Worse. Way worse.” Savannah glanced up at the bathroom window to make sure it was still closed, and the shade drawn. “Are you busy this afternoon, after you get home?”
“Not really. Why? You want me to do some sleuthing?”
Tammy’s whole demeanor changed so dramatically that Savannah was glad she’d asked her. No more sobbing. Her eyes were twinkling like a kid’s the night before their birthday.
Tammy was quite sure that she had been born to “sleuth.” It was the only pastime she loved even more than running.
“That would be helpful. Just in case it turns out it wasn’t natural causes. That way we’d get a head start.”
“We?”
“Dirk caught the case.”
Tammy nodded and snickered. “Yeah, ol’ Dirko can use all the help he can get.”
“That’s my husband you’re speaking of there, girlie,” Savannah said, lifting her chin and her right eyebrow. “He has his flaws, like spitting toothpaste specks on the bathroom mirror three times a day, but he’s a darned good detective.”
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting. You’re a loyal wife and don’t want to hear anything bad about your hubby.”
“No, I don’t.” Savannah thought it over, reconsidered, and added, “Unless, of course, it’s me saying it.”
“Where do you want me to start?” Tammy asked. “Like who’s on your suspect list, if it turns out to be homicide?”
“I hear he fools around. A lot. See if you can find out who his latest squeeze was. Also, the neighbor who lives next to him, the north side. The guy’s got a son, Dylan. There was some sort of kerfuffle involving a dog named Webster who peed on Erling’s Lamborghini’s tire and then bit him and Erling wound up in the hospital.”
“Doesn’t sound like something that would turn into murder, but—”
“You never know, human nature being what it is. Brothers have killed each other over who got the bigger steak at the family barbecue.”
“Anything else?”
“Check out Dr. Erling himself, of course.”
Tammy glanced back at the house again and whispered, “Her, too?”
“Sure. You know what they say. . . .”
“It’s usua
lly the spouse.”
“Makes sense when you think about it. Especially in this case.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently, Erling was a donkey’s hindquarters. I hate to think it, let alone speak it out loud, but she was his next of kin, the one who spent the most time with him.”
“It stands to reason she was on the receiving end of most of his orneriness.”
“Exactly. The more he hurt her, the stronger her motive would be.” Savannah thought back on the brief contact she’d had with the surgeon the day before and added, “I’ve gotta tell you. I wouldn’t put it past her. Or blame her. If I was married to a guy like that, chances are good he’d wind up being a suspicious smell in the attic.”
Chapter 15
Once Savannah had sent Vanna Rose and Tammy on their way with kisses, hugs, and a restored stroller wheel, she walked back into the house, hoping to enjoy one more cup of coffee, sipping and savoring it quietly in her comfy chair, while she decided how to best spend her day.
Her calendar had been full already with grocery shopping, picking up the shoes that had been dyed to match her maid-of-honor gown for Alma’s upcoming wedding, and collecting Dirk’s suit from the cleaners so he would have something to wear to the “tasting” tonight at Ryan and John’s restaurant.
That, she was anticipating with great eagerness. Their friends were gourmet cooks in their own right and the restaurant’s chef was superb. They were going to cater Alma and Ethan’s wedding reception.
No doubt tonight’s preview meal would be a culinary delight.
If she made it that far.
As she refilled her coffee cup and trudged toward the living room, she was wondering how she and her sore neck, legs, and everything in between were going to get through the day.
But before she entered the room, she heard Carolyn’s voice. Her guest was having a one-way conversation with someone, and she was speaking softly in a low voice, as though she might not want anyone to overhear.
Savannah assumed she was on the phone.
At first, she intended to return to the kitchen and give the woman her privacy. Considering all that had happened, it might be a sensitive call.
A Few Drops of Bitters Page 10
