Fat Free and Fatal

by G. A. McKevett

“No, I don’t know. He phoned you minutes before you called Tammy, probably to see if you were ready for him and had left the sliding door open for him to enter, like you’d planned, right?”

  Dona didn’t reply.

  “And you could have told him right then that you’d changed your mind, but you didn’t. Why not?”

  Again, she didn’t reply.

  But Savannah knew. She looked down at the crumpled articles. In her mind’s eye she saw Dona sitting there at that desk, night after night, reading those words and feeling the pain of betrayal.

  “You couldn’t risk it, could you?” Savannah said. “You knew what it was like to have people know your deepest, darkest secrets. And you wouldn’t have had a moment’s peace, knowing that Field was out there, walking around with your secret. Even if it was his secret, too, you couldn’t take the chance.”

  Dona looked a little relieved. “You understand then? You know I did what I had to do, right?”

  Savannah reached across the desk and picked up her cell phone. “Oh, I understand, all right. You set me up. With deliberation and premeditation, you put me in a position where I would have to kill somebody, take another human being’s life, just so that you wouldn’t have to worry. Just so that you’d be sure to get away with the other two murders you engineered. And I have to tell you, lady, that just doesn’t sit well with me at all! If you and I were men, we’d probably be dukin’ it out right here, right now. In fact, if you weren’t a sickly, scrawny-assed chick who doesn’t weigh as much as my right thigh, we’d be having a free-for-all. That’s how strongly I feel about having you use me as your killing machine.”

  “But…but you said you understood what Kim and Jack did to me, how they deserved what they got. And you said yourself, Cameron Field was a hit man. Who knows how many other people he killed, how many he would have gone on to kill if you hadn’t shot him?”

  “Well, you’re not a judge, and I’m not a jury, so we don’t get to decide things like that, now do we?” Savannah dialed Dirk’s number on her cell phone. “But we’ll find us a judge and jury who can.”

  Dirk answered with, “Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to call you, and you had your phone off. Tammy says that you sounded—”

  “Shush,” she said. “I’m at Dona Papalardo’s place. Get over here as quick as you can. And bring a unit with a cage.” She looked at the movie star and gave her a wry smile. “You’re going to have yourself a prisoner to transport.”

  Chapter 28

  Savannah stood over the barbecue grill and looked down at the steaks and burgers that Ryan was tending. “I’m telling you,” she said, leaning on his shoulder, “if that smells any better, I’m not going to be able to stand it.”

  He reached down, cut a tiny piece off one steak and slipped it to her, casting a furtive look at Dirk, who was sprawled in a hammock nearby.

  “I saw that,” Dirk said, peeking out from under the Dodgers baseball cap he had pulled far down over his face. “And I want a bite, too.”

  Savannah looked at Ryan. “Are you in the mood to walk over there and bite him?”

  “Not really.”

  “Me, either.” To Dirk she said, “Sorry, buddy. You’ll have to do without.”

  With some under-his-breath grumbling, Dirk climbed out of the hammock and walked over to the ice chest. As he fumbled inside for his trusty Budweiser, he asked John, who was sitting nearby, if he wanted one.

  “No, thank you.” John lifted his glass of Merlot. “I’m fine here.”

  Tammy was sitting beside John, smearing sunscreen on her long legs. “I’ll take a Corona,” she said, “if you put a lime in it.”

  Dirk scowled at her, but he pulled out a Corona, walked over to the picnic table, took the top off, and shoved a lime wedge into the bottle.

  When she took it from him, she said, “You handled that lime with your bare hands. Are they clean?”

  He snatched the bottle away from her. She laughed and grabbed it back. “Just kidding,” she said.

  John lifted his glass of wine in Savannah’s direction. “To our gracious hostess, who knows how to feed us in the style to which we have gratefully become accustomed.”

  “Here, here,” Ryan replied. “And to the Moonlight Magnolia Detective Agency who, once again, brought their man—or in this case—their man and their lady, to justice.”

  Everyone toasted all the way around, and Tammy said, “Did you see that big special they did on Court TV about Dona Papalardo last night? It was an hour long, all about her life, her hiatus from acting, and then the murders.”

  “I saw it,” Savannah said. “She would have loved it, if she weren’t in jail and could have actually seen it, that is. They hardly mentioned the weight issue at all. And they glossed over the surgery problems. She came off as this troubled, complex person who acted out of deep, psychological problems.”

  “Well,” John said, “obviously she was troubled on some level.”

  “Eh, bull pucky.” Savannah walked over to the picnic table and began to uncover the salads. “She knew dad-gummed well what she was doing every step of the way. And I have to tell you, I’m still plenty pissed at her. She played me for a jackass, and I just let her do it.”

  “She had me fooled, too, Van,” Dirk said. “She is an actress, you know. And apparently a good one.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Ryan said. “We found out a little something about her agent, Miles Thurgood, that you might like to know.”

  “What’s that?” Savannah asked.

  “We checked his tax returns and—”

  “You can check people’s tax returns?” Tammy asked.

  “You can if you’re a fed,” Dirk said, “or even used to be, for that matter.”

  Ryan nodded. “Let’s just say we know some people, who know some people, and anyway…That money that Thurgood gave to Kim Dylan? It was actually legitimate. He was acting as her agent, negotiating with the tabloids. The money he paid her was from them, minus his fee.”

  “No wonder he got nervous when Kim turned up dead,” Savannah said. “And then Jack. He may have figured out that Dona had something to do with it, and that’s why he got so spooked that day when I was talking to him. He was probably hiding out from her there at the hotel.”

  “I wonder if he knew that Kim-Penny had a record?” Dirk said. “I doubt it.”

  “What sort of record did she have?” John asked. “We never heard the particulars.”

  “She and her boyfriend, James, were wanted in Missouri for blackmail. Seems they worked a similar scam there, hiring on as some big-time country singer’s maid and gardener there in Branson. They found out some unsavory things about this so-called wholesome, family entertainer’s sex life, and they were blackmailing her with it. But she turned them in to the cops. That’s when they split from there and headed out to sunny California.”

  “Yeah, lucky us,” Savannah said, as she walked around the group, handing out plates, knives, and forks.

  Dirk came to the table and began to dig into the baked beans, potato salad, and macaroni salad. He glanced toward the house. “Your sister and brother-in-law haven’t even shown their faces the whole time we’ve been here. What’s up?”

  “They’re breaking up, even as we speak. He’s going back to Vegas to divorce her, or get it annulled if it’s not too late.”

  “Don’t you just hate it,” Dirk said with a smirk, “when these longtime marriages just don’t last, even when the people have spent so much time and trouble trying to make it work?”

  Savannah reached over and slapped him on the back of the hand with the salad tongs. “That’s my family you’re insulting there, buddy. Watch it.”

  She looked at the back door, sighed, and said, “I’ll go tell them that the food’s on, although I doubt they’ll be in the mood to eat. They haven’t eaten a single bite of meat since I took them to Dr. Liu’s.”

  Waving an arm to indicate the table and all of its tasty burden, she said, “I’m go
ing inside to check on my kinfolk. Y’all be sure and wait for me…like one pig waits for another one.”

  Inside the house, she noticed a marked quiet, not at all the way her house had been for the past few days. With no insults flying around, no inane cursing bouncing off the wall, she hardly felt at home

  The only thing she heard when she entered the living room was someone softly crying.

  Jesup was sitting on the sofa, her legs pulled under her, Cleo in her lap. She was slowly stroking the cat’s silky coat.

  Savannah walked over and sat beside her. “What’s the matter, puddin’?” she asked. “Where’s Bleak?”

  “He’s gone.” Jesup blew her nose, then leaned her head on Savannah’s shoulder. “He left to go back to Vegas. He’s going to get the annulment or divorce, or whatever.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “Oh, I want him to. We never should have done anything so stupid as get married. That was a big mistake. I know it now.”

  “So, why did you?”

  “Because he wanted to. He said it would be fun, so I did. Just like he said the Blood Fest would be fun.”

  “I thought you said you met there?”

  “No, I ran into him outside the place. He was going in, and I walked by, and he said I was cute, so I stopped to talk to him. The next thing I knew, I was married.”

  Savannah put her arms around her and rocked her as she had when she was a young child and had skinned her knees. “That’s what happens, honey,” she said, “when you let somebody else tell you who you are and what you want to do with you life.”

  “But I loved him. I really did.”

  Savannah kissed the top of her head. “I know, darlin’, but even the people you love most can’t define who you are for you. That’s a gift that only you can give to yourself. You can’t go through life, being a chameleon, changing constantly to be like the man in your life. You have to find out who you are, and then go looking for a man who loves and respects you. Not the other way around.”

  “Half the time I don’t even know what I like.”

  “Well, it’s time to find out, now isn’t it?”

  Savannah pulled back and looked down at her younger sister’s tearstained face. “Just because Bleak is gone, that doesn’t mean that you and I can’t have a good time on what’s left of your vacation.”

  Jesup brightened slightly. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You’re in southern California. We’re the tourist experts around here. I’m all yours now that my job is over. What do you want to do?”

  Smiling shyly, Jesup said, “Bleak says it’s lame, and he didn’t want to go, but…”

  “Where?”

  “Disneyland. I always wanted to go there.”

  “Well, I think that Bleak is as lame as lame gets, and I’m crazy about Disneyland. So, let’s go tomorrow.”

  “No way.”

  “Absolutely. There’s something I need to do tonight after dinner. But tomorrow you and I will get up at dawn-thirty and stay all weekend.”

  Her face split in a wide grin. “Oh, wow! Thank you!” She gave Savannah a tight hug and several kisses on her cheeks. “You’re awesome.”

  “Well, hey, how often do you get to celebrate getting rid of a guy like Bleak?”

  “Yeah! Really!”

  “Are you hungry? Barbecue’s ready out there.”

  “You got your famous potato salad with kosher dill pickles in it?”

  “And lemonade and baked beans.”

  “Yum. Apple pie?”

  “And blackberry cobbler. We don’t want anybody around here to faint from hunger.”

  “This is nice,” Tammy said, “deciding on the spur of the moment to go on a drive like this. Are you sure that Jesup didn’t mind us leaving her behind like that?”

  “Naw, Dirk will hang out and watch his boxing match till we get back. She’ll have company.”

  Tammy sat in the passenger’s seat of Savannah’s Mustang, and Savannah behind the wheel, windows down, drinking in the cool breeze and the magic of twilight. They wound their way through the middle of town, where Savannah lived and headed west, toward the beach.

  “I like this time of day,” Savannah said. “Always have. The sun setting, the city lights coming on, smells of people’s dinners in the air, kitty cats coming out to snoop around and play in the yards. It’s the best. And I decided you and I deserve to take a little drive, relax a bit.”

  “That was some dinner you made.”

  “Oh, please. I still can hardly breathe. Ryan is amazing with those steaks.”

  Tammy sighed. “Ryan is amazing, period.”

  Savannah turned onto Vista del Mar, a palm-lined boulevard that paralleled the beach for more than a mile. Tiny streets crossed it, heading down to the water. And on those two-blocks-long, narrow roads were small, quaint beach cottages of every style imaginable. Some were Cape Cod style, others tiny Spanish adobes, and a few distinctly contemporary.

  Savannah turned down one of the streets called Pelican Lane. She and Tammy frequently came down this road for two reasons. One, unlike most of the other streets, it had a wide turnaround at the end, where people could park and take a stroll on the beach. But the second reason why it was a favorite was a cottage, two houses from the beach, on the right.

  The “Three Bears Cottage,” Tammy liked to call it.

  Whoever had built this quaint little house had obviously been a Disneyphile. With its high-pitched roof with its rounded edges, the horseshoe-shaped door, the leaded glass windows and rustic stonework, it looked like something straight out of a fairy-tale forest.

  “There’s your house,” Savannah said as she slowed the car and came to a stop in front of it.”

  “Oh, look! It’s for sale!” Tammy said, jumping up and down in her seat, pointing to the Realtor’s sign stuck in the front yard. “I’ve been watching that house for years and this is the first time it’s come on the market. I guess the family who owns it finally decided to sell.”

  Then her smile fell. “Oh, it’s got a ‘sold’ sticker across it. Wow, that was fast. I was just by here last week and there wasn’t even a sign up yet.”

  “It’s really cute, and quite unique. You can’t expect that it would stay on the market for very long.”

  “True.” Tammy sighed. “Oh, well, I hope some really nice people bought it. Somebody who’ll take care of it and really enjoy it.”

  Savannah sat, watching her friend’s pretty face, as the various emotions played across it. What a truly good person she was. One of the best people Savannah had ever had the privilege to know. She was so grateful to have such a person for a friend.

  “I don’t think they actually bought it,” Savannah said. “More like, just put some serious earnest money down on it, you know…to hold it.”

  Tammy turned to her, confused. “What?”

  “You know, earnest money. You give it to the Realtor, and then they promise not to sell it to anybody else while you—”

  “I know what earnest money is, but how do you know about…?”

  Savannah reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. She unfolded it and handed it to Tammy.

  Tammy began to read it aloud, “Earnest money to be applied to down payment on said property at Fifteen Pelican Lane…to be held for…Tammy Hart…. signed E.F. Realty and Savannah Reid and—what? Savannah! What is this?”

  Savanna reached over and brushed Tammy’s hair back out of her eyes. “It’s your new house, sweetie. There’s enough money there in the down payment to pay half of their asking price. Your mortgage will be less than you’re paying for that studio apartment of yours, so I’m sure you can handle it.”

  “Oh! Oh! Oh, my god! Are you serious?”

  “Serious as can be.”

  “But how? You don’t have that kind of money. I know; I keep your books. I pay your bills!”

  “Dona Papalardo paid me a great big bonus…before I got her arrested, of course. And once I figured out why
—to ease her conscience—I was going to give it back to her. But then I thought about you. I thought about how long you’ve worked for me and how hard, and how little I’ve paid you, and how you never, ever complained. Where Dona’s going, money’s not going to do her a bit of good.”

  Tears streamed down Tammy’s cheeks. She gave Savannah a long, hard hug and got the front of her shirt all wet. “But you should use the money yourself,” she said. “I know how bad you need it.”

  Savannah shook her head. “I don’t want it. Really. I don’t. This way, something good will come from it. It’s what I want, and I don’t wanna hear another word of argument about it. Okay?”

  Tammy laughed, cried, and kept bouncing up and down on her seat until Savannah was sure she was going to break the springs.

  “So, do you want to sit here or go check out the inside of your new house?”

  “What? Really? They let you have a key already?”

  “Sure.” Savannah gave her a big grin, reached into her purse, and pulled out a lock pick. “Right here. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 29

  Back at home, Savannah found only Dirk sitting on her sofa, drinking a Bud and eating another piece of apple pie with ice cream melting on top. On the television, his favorite heavyweight had just won back the championship belt for the third time. So, he was in a better than average mood.

  “I’m surprised Jessie went to bed so early,” she said as she sat down beside him, reached over, and nabbed a bite of his pie.

  “She said you’re going to take her to see the Mouse tomorrow morning bright and early. She’s as excited as a kid on Christmas eve. Said if she can get to sleep earlier, it’ll come faster.”

  “She’s a funny kid. Always has been.”

  They sat, quietly sharing the apple pie, staring at the post-match chatting on TV.

  When the pie was gone, Dirk turned sideways on the sofa, facing her. “You and me haven’t had a chance to talk since the shooting,” he said. “Not really talk. I want to know if you’re okay.”

  She swallowed and looked away. “Yeah, sure.”