Tammy closed down the PC, then stood. “When are you going to arrest her?” she asked Dirk.
He grinned... and it occurred to Savannah that when he smiled, Dirk really was quite a good-looking guy. Not gorgeous, like Ryan. But he had a certain street-worn appeal.
Unfortunately, he only smiled like that when he was about to bust somebody.
“How’s about right now?” he said. “You girls wanna come along for the fun?”
He didn’t have to ask twice.
Chapter
23
When Savannah, Dirk, and Tammy found Louise on the beach, she was so totally enthralled with Ryan and her conversation with him that she didn’t even notice the threesome approaching from behind.
Ryan glanced their way for only a second, but it was long enough for Savannah to give him a thumbs-up and for him to smile and nod imperceptibly.
As they made their way along the beach, Savannah could feel the loose sand slipping into her loafers, but she didn’t mind at all. She wouldn’t have minded if there had been sharks nipping at her ankles. Taking in Louise’s hot-pink bikini trimmed in lime green and the provocative way she had posed herself, lying on one side, playing with her long blond hair as she chatted with Ryan, Savannah had to control herself not to cackle like the wicked witch in the story of Snow White.
The gal who considered herself the “fairest of them all” was about to get herself busted—and by Dirk, who absolutely loved to make an arrest when he felt one was warranted. Savannah could tell by the smirk on his face as he strode through the sand beside her that he was overjoyed with this turn of events.
And several steps behind them was an equally cheerful Tammy.
Dirk wasted no time. He walked up behind Louise, reached down, grabbed her arm, and in one smooth movement, hauled her to her feet.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shrieked, wriggling around like a worm on a hot sidewalk. “Let go of me!”
But Dirk didn’t let go. He had grabbed much bigger and meaner characters than Louise and hadn’t let go. In seconds, he had her hands behind her and her wrists cuffed.
Ryan stood, brushed the sand off his legs, and picked up his towel. “I suppose my work is done here,” he said.
“Your... your work?” Louise whirled on him—at least, as well as she could, considering the fact that Dirk was holding her in a death grip. “What do you mean, ‘work’? Are you part of this.... this....?”
“Arrest,” Dirk supplied. “It’s called a felony arrest.”
“But we were getting along really good and—” Louise shook her head, as though unable to absorb the realities unfolding around her.
“Actually,” Ryan said, “we weren’t really clicking as well as you thought. You see”—he looked her up and down—“you’re just not my type.”
She looked crushed. “You don’t like blondes?”
“Oh, no. I love blondes.... brunettes.... redheads.” He flashed her a breathtaking smile.
Dirk snorted and Tammy giggled.
“I just don’t like you.”
“But... but...” Louise looked as if she were going to burst into tears any moment as Ryan tossed his towel over his shoulder and strolled away.
“See you guys later,” he said. “We’ll bring the champagne. About seven this evening?”
“You got it,” Savannah told him.
“Champagne?” Louise tried to jerk her arm out of Dirk’s grasp and yelped at the pain it cost her. “Somebody tell me what is going on around here.”
“I’d be happy to,” Dirk replied. “I am placing you under arrest for the murder of your mother, Eleanor Maxwell. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...”
“Murder my mother?” Louise glanced over her shoulder and gave him a hate-filled look. “How could I kill her? I told you I haven’t even had contact with her for ages.”
“Yeah, and that was a lie,” Savannah said. “Thanks to you, she was recently in the hospital, getting her head sewn up. I’d say that’s some pretty close and personal contact.”
Dirk continued to read Louise her rights as he turned her around and pushed her down the beach toward the path that led back to the house. The second he had finished, she asserted one of her basic rights.
“I want my lawyer,” she said. “I’m not saying a word until I talk to Marty.”
“You better pick another lawyer,” Savannah told her. “Marty’s got some serious problems of his own. He’s in the pokey himself right now.”
“For what?” she demanded.
“For stealing all of your mom’s money,” Dirk told her. “You know—the money you killed her for.”
“He stole it? How? You mean, like embezzled it? All of it?”
She was looking pale under her tan, and Savannah almost felt sorry for her. Within a space of three minutes she had been dumped by a gorgeous man she had just met, arrested for murder, and told she was flat broke.
But then... Savannah smiled to herself and flashed forward to an evening of sipping celebratory champagne.... it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person than Louise Maxwell.
As soon as Dirk left with Louise in tow, Savannah paid a quick visit to Marie’s cottage and asked her to take care of Gilly when she got home from school—maybe even for a few days, as Louise would be “away.” Marie had happily agreed and hadn’t asked the usual, nosy questions that might have been expected under the circumstances.
Savannah decided that if she ever won the lottery and could afford a seaside mansion, she wanted a housekeeper just like Marie. Discreet and not overly curious. Two excellent qualities in domestic help.
Having the issue of Gilly resolved for the time being, Savannah left the Maxwell estate with a lighter heart than she’d had in many days.
She dropped Tammy off at her apartment complex and turned her Mustang toward the grocery store and her mind toward the night’s culinary festivities. As usual when they wrapped up a case, the Moonlight Magnolia crew would get together, eat and drink too much, and slap each other on the back, verbally and literally.
It made life worth living.
Her menu was coming together in her head: a honey-baked ham, some of her own potato salad, sliced fresh tomatoes, and maybe she’d throw together some onion rolls. Pecan pie and ice cream for dessert.
And, of course, Ryan would bring a bottle of Dom Pérignon, that delightful champagne that positively exploded with a million tiny bubbles against your tongue and lifted your spirits to all new heights.
Yes, the evening would be a pleasant one, to be sure. Cordele’s nose would probably be out of joint that they were entertaining Savannah’s friends rather than spending “quality” time together, discussing the bad ol’ days, but.... what the heck?
This was such a perfect day—with Louise’s arrest and all—that Savannah was determined that nothing would ruin it for her.
Nothing... except a phone call from Dirk, just as she was picking out tomatoes in the produce section.
“It ain’t goin’ so good over here,” were his opening words.
Savannah dropped her choices into a plastic bag and tied the top, holding the cell phone between her chin and shoulder.
“Have you got Louise in the sweat box?” she asked. “Yeah, but she ain’t sweatin’.”
“Turn up the heat.”
“It’s already up to ninety, and she’s cool bordering on frosty. Says she was out of town the whole week around when the kid from the drugstore says she had him get that medicine for her.”
She dropped the phone and had to fish it out of some nearby bell peppers. “Out of town? Doing what?”
“She says she was cleaning out in a drug rehab center in San Diego.”
“Well, was she?”
“I don’t know. I called down there and they’re checking. Gonna get back to me. Can you do me a solid?” Savannah looked at the contents of her grocery c
art and could feel the evening and all its celebrations slipping away. “Sure,” she said. “What is it?”
“I wanna stay here in case the clinic calls and keep leanin’ on her. Can you go over to the drugstore and ask that kid again if he’s got the date right? I already called, and he’s there for the next forty-five minutes.” She sighed. “No problem,” she said. “I’m on my way.”
* * *
Savannah found Tony in the pharmacy’s storage room breaking down empty cardboard boxes. He didn’t seem surprised to see her. Apparently Mildred had told him about Dirk’s call.
He also didn’t appear particularly happy to see her, but then, that was to be expected. There was nothing quite like the grim possibility of another round in the sweat box to dampen one’s spirits.
“Don’t worry,” she told him right away. “I just wanted to make sure of a couple of things that we talked about the other day.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He put away the utility knife he’d been using and sat down on a nearby box. “What’s up?”
“The date that you gave us.... the day that you actually took those bottles out of the storage closet here and gave them to Louise, are you sure about that?”
He folded his hands and stared down at them. Savannah could see that he was, quite literally, white-knuckling it. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.”
“May I ask how you can be so sure of the exact date?” He nodded and looked terribly sad for one so young. “I remember because it was my birthday. And I was really looking forward to seeing her.”
“Did she know it was your birthday?” Savannah asked, preparing to hate Louise all the more if she had implicated this kid in a murder plot on his birthday. But then, somebody who would poison her own mother wouldn’t have qualms about something as mundane as using a teenage boy who was deeply, helplessly in lust with her.
“Yeah.... I guess she did,” he said. “I mean, I told her it was going to be when we talked the week before on the phone.”
“Did she mention it when you saw her? Like wish you happy birthday, or—”
“Naw. I didn’t even get to actually see her that day.” A bell went off in Savannah’s brain—an unpleasant one that sounded a lot like a neighbor’s car alarm going off in the middle of the night. “You didn’t see Louise?” she said. “But you said you gave her the bottles of medicine.”
“I left them there between the screen and the door, like the note said.”
Savannah recalled, word for word, the contents of the letter that he had handed over to them. “But I read the note. It didn’t say anything like that.”
“Not that note,” he said. ‘The note that was stuck to the door when I got there.”
Savannah held up one hand. ‘Just a minute. Let me get this straight. She left you that letter in your cubbyhole at work—the one you gave to us—asking you to bring the stuff out to her. But then, when you took it to her cottage there on the estate, she wasn’t there, just a note on the door asking you to leave it behind the screen?”
He nodded. ‘Yeah. And that’s why I was so bummed. Here I do this thing for her—stealing something from my work—and taking it out to her, and she wasn’t even there to meet me. And her knowing it was my birthday and all.”
“I can see why you were disappointed.”
Tony wasn’t the only one who was bummed, she thought. She wasn’t exactly thrilled with this new turn of events herself. Dirk would be even less happy.
“Have you seen Louise or spoken to her since then?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. I kept waiting for her to at least call and say ‘Thanks for the stuff,’ but when she didn’t, I figured it was over.”
He looked up at Savannah with eyes that registered his hurt, but also some wisdom born of painful experience.
“Yes,” she said, “that was smart on your part, dropping her, that is. You’re a good guy; you can do a lot better than her.”
He shrugged. “I don’t really want anything to do with any girls right now. No offense, but they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
Savannah laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Can’t argue with you there, Tony, my man. As a single person myself, I can say.... it may not be as much fun but it’s a whole heap simpler. You take it easy now, hear?”
“Yeah. Okay. Did that help you with your investigation?”
She tried to paste on a cheerful face. “Oh, yes. That was a major help. Thanks.”
As she walked away, she muttered, “With help like that, I think I’ll just go hang myself. And Dirk will probably wanna swing right alongside me.”
Savannah sat at her kitchen table, staring dejectedly at the phone in front of her. Through the archway leading into the living room, she could see Cordele in her usual spot, the wingback chair, reading, cats on either side of her feet. Or at least Cordele was pretending to read while Savannah made her unpleasant calls. She hadn’t turned a page since Savannah had begun.
The first call had been to Ryan and John to tell them to keep the champagne on ice but tonight’s cork-popping was on hold. They had been kind and sympathetic. As investigators themselves, they knew the pain of having a case unravel in your hands.
The next call would be less pleasant, she knew.
Dirk had a growl in his voice the instant he picked up at the station house. “Coulter.”
“Reid,” she responded, equally brusque. “Still frosty around there?”
“Got icicles hanging from my nose. She ain’t budgin’ from the ‘I was in rehab’ bit. What about the kid?”
“He never saw her. Said that when he dropped off the pills at her place, she didn’t answer. There was a typed note on the door telling him to leave it inside the screen.”
“Damn! Anybody could have written that.”
“Yeah, on her computer even, if she wasn’t home.” She heard the heavy sigh on the other end. ‘Just like anybody could have written those letters on her computer, too. And if they had a sample of her signature, they could have copied it at the bottom.”
“Believe me, I’ve thought of all of that. I’ve also thought about the fact that nobody on that estate seemed to ever lock their doors. I guess they figured the security gate took care of everything. So anybody on the grounds could have come and gone from that cottage pretty easily when Gilly was at school and Louise was rehabbing.” ‘You’re just full of sunshine and light,” he said.
“Hey, that’s the way the cornbread crumbles. Did you get any confirmation from that clinic in San Diego that she was there?”
“Yeah, she was there. Just like she said.”
“Shit.”
“My sentiments exactly. I’m gonna have to kick her loose, you know.”
Savannah’s stomach twisted at the thought of Louise Maxwell winning the round—maybe even the fight. Yeah, I know,” she said. “Suppose you could lose the paperwork for a little while?”
He chuckled. “It’s already been misplaced for over an hour. Let’s see.... it’s almost seven now. I figure it’ll show up about eight or nine.”
“You’re a bad boy.”
“You don’t know the half of it, baby.”
Savannah heard a beep on her “call waiting.”
“I’ve got another call. Talk to you later. Chin up.”
”Yeah, yeah, yeah....”
She pushed the flash button. “Hello?”
“Savannah,” said a deep, rich, female voice, “this is Angela Herriot.”
“Angela! How nice to hear from you. Are you at work this late?”
“Always. Listen, I had some paperwork come across my desk today, and I thought I should give you a call...” Savannah sat, listening, for the next few minutes. Part of her—the professional, the detective—was excited by what she was hearing. But the less cerebral, more human side of her grieved.
That was the problem with searching for the truth. Sometimes, often, in fact, when you uncovered a buried secret, you wished you had just left it lyin
g in its shallow grave.
Yes, she thought, it probably would have been better for everybody.
Chapter
24
By the time Savannah reached the Maxwell estate, it was nearly eight o’clock in the evening. After finding no one at home in either the mansion, the gatekeeper’s cottage, or the chauffeur’s apartment, she approached the gardener’s cottage where Marie lived... at least until Louise could legally evict her.
The door to the little house stood open a foot or so, and Savannah could hear Marie’s gentle voice coming from inside. She walked quietly to the door and peeked in. Marie was sitting in her rocking chair with Gilly in her lap. Marie was reading her a Dr. Seuss book. The child was munching on one of Marie’s amazing oatmeal cookies and thoroughly enjoying the story and the attention.
Savannah hated to interrupt.
She felt that she had already interrupted this child’s life far too much, but....
Knocking on the door, she said, “Excuse me, ladies, but could I have a word with you, Marie?”
Marie glanced up, startled. But Gilly gave Savannah a bright smile.
“Hi, Savannah,” she said, waving with her cookie. “Hi yourself, dumplin’.”
Gilly laughed. “Do you know that you talk funny? You call people silly names.”
“Only people I like.” She stepped through the door and into the cozy living room. “I was just wondering,” she said to Marie, “if you happen to know where Sydney is? I knocked at his apartment door, but he didn’t answer and I didn’t see the Jag in the garage.”
Something crossed Marie’s eyes, a certain knowing sadness that Savannah herself could feel deep inside.
“Every evening after dinner he goes to the Lucky Shamrock for happy hour. It’s a little Irish pub on the beach north of here.”
“I know the place. He goes there every night?”
“He has one beer and hangs out with some guys there for a while. He usually comes home right about this time. If you like, I’ll make you a cup of mint tea and you can wait for him here.”
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