Just Desserts by G. A. McKevett Read Free Book Online Page B

her, and the atmosphere suddenly seemed stale and suffocating. “I’ll proceed carefully; don’t worry.”
    She reached for the doorknob, but he blocked her, his hand closing around her wrist with a grip that was slightly too tight.
    “I think you should interview that janitor first,” he said. “I definitely believe that would be the smart thing to do, under the circumstances.”
    Savannah’s temper flared. He had no right to interfere with her investigation like this. Questioning the next of kin at her own discretion was her call. Or at least it should have been. Since when did the chief of police take over one of his detective’s cases?
    On the other hand, she wasn’t in any position to argue the fine points of departmental protocol, having become accustomed to some of the simpler pleasures of life, such as receiving a bimonthly paycheck, eating, and having a roof over her head and clothing to wear.
    “Yes, sir, I’ll do that right away,” she said, too sweetly. “Thank you for your input, sir.”
    Dirk didn’t always catch the subtle nuances of her insults, but Norman Hillquist wasn’t police chief for no reason. His eyes narrowed and he moved a step closer to her. “You’re welcome, Detective,” he said with equal sarcasm. “I’m sure I’ll have more suggestions as the case progresses.”
    “I’ll be looking forward to that, sir,” she replied as she yanked open the door and strode into the hallway.
    Yeah, sure, she was looking forward to their next rendezvous and the words of wisdom he would so generously bestow upon her ... just like she was looking forward to senility, arthritis, denture breath, and wearing bladder control lingerie.
    Yep ... boy howdy! She could hardly wait.

CHAPTER FOUR
    “ I told you... you can’t talk to Hank right now! He’s got a bad I heart and he ain’t feelin’ good.”
    Savannah stood on the back porch of the ramshackle old house—no one had answered the front door—and studied the janitor’s wife through the rusted screen. Today was definitely going to be one of those days when everyone and their uncle’s dog’s cousin was out to give her a hard time. The woman was huge, nearly filling the doorway with her bulk, which appeared to be as much muscle as fat. Deciding that she really wasn’t up for another tussle within twenty-four hours of the last one, Savannah donned an extremely patient look.
    “I understand, Mrs. Downing. I’m sure he is very upset after what he saw this morning. But this is a homicide investigation and I must talk to him ... now, not later. I’ll take it slow and easy with him, I promise. My dad has a heart condition, and I know how to treat Mr. Downing. You don’t have to worry.”
    Savannah could feel her tongue turning black, even as she uttered the blatant lie. Never having known her father, she had no idea whether he had a heart condition or not. But it sounded good, and she justified the falsehood the same way she had all the others she had uttered in the line of duty.
    Granny Reid was right, though: It would all catch up with her someday. When she least expected it her tongue would turn black, shrivel up, and fall out of her head, just as predicted. God always got you in the end.
    “Well ... all right,” Mrs. Downing said, relenting a bit. She pushed open the screen door a crack and crooked one finger. “Come in here and sit yourself down at the kitchen table.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Downing,” she said gratefully, deciding that perhaps sin was such a popular pastime because it often worked so well. “Thank you very much.”
    While the old woman shuffled away to summon her husband, Savannah pulled out one of the aluminum-framed chairs and sat on the cracked leatherette with its red pearlescent design. She smiled, remembering Gran’s dinette set, which had been so similar. Gran had bought it when Savannah had been ten, and she had thought it the most beautiful dining-room furniture in the world.
    Her memory was also twanged