Killer Honeymoon by G.A. McKevett Read Free Book Online Page A

expression that flashed across someone’s features, right before they told a lie.
    “That’s good,” the chief said evenly. “Maybe it’s hers and will have her ID in it. Then we can find out who she is.”
    Savannah stared at her for a long time, searching her eyes. Finally she said, “Are you telling me that you don’t know who that is, lying back there on the beach?”
    “No. Why would I? Do you?”
    It was another lie. Savannah could tell, and one quick glance at Dirk told her that he knew it, too.
    “Of course I do,” Savannah replied. “I’m surprised that you don’t. It’s the news reporter Amelia Northrop. One of your more prominent and famous residents, I should think.”
    For what seemed like a very long time, Savannah and Chief La Cross stood, staring into each other’s eyes with the intensity of a couple of gunfighters. Finally it was the chief who broke the silence.
    “You may be right. You may be wrong,” she said. “But until we know for sure, I’m going to insist that you keep your opinion to yourself. You’re to say nothing to anyone at all about what you think you saw here today. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
    Savannah didn’t like her tone. She didn’t like the chief’s black suit or the way her eyes bored into hers. She didn’t like her ramrod posture that gave the impression Chief La Cross was constantly looking to fight with anyone over anything . . . and expected to win every fight she began.
    Dirk took a step toward the chief, his own stiff body language telegraphing his fury. “Now see here,” he began.
    Savannah held up one hand, signaling him to let her have this one. It was a gesture she’d used many times over the years, and he knew better than to ignore it.
    He backed off.
    “Now, Chief Charlotte La Cross,” she began, her accent thick and bittersweet, “you don’t want to go threatenin’ me like that. Last I checked, there was still freedom of speech in this country.”
    “If you mean by ‘this country’ the United States of America, let me remind you that Santa Tesla Island may be a territory of the U.S., but we are self-governing in every way. We have our own system of law enforcement, and I’m the head of that system, so you will do exactly as I say, or you’ll find yourself spending your honeymoon in separate cells in our jail.”
    She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. In fact, it reminded Savannah of a great white shark. And there was a conviction in her dark eyes that convinced Savannah she meant every word she was saying.
    Dirk stepped closer to the chief; his eyes were no friendlier than hers. And he wasn’t bothering with any sort of smile, warm and genial, or carnivorous. “The shoes and the purse are down the beach, that direction,” he said through a clenched jaw, “under some bushes. Back where your patrolmen are tromping through the trees, there are some spent cartridges. From what little we observed, the shots seemed to come from that direction. Beyond that, my wife and I have nothing more to say to you.”
    He reached over, took Savannah’s hand, and tucked it tightly into the crook of his arm. “If you need anything else, we’ll be trying to enjoy what’s left of our honeymoon in the lighthouse keeper’s cottage. Good luck with your case. Something tells me you’re going to need it.”
    “I hope you solve this murder,” Savannah added as they walked away, “for the victim’s sake, if not for yours. She died horribly. She deserves some justice.”
    Savannah could feel La Cross watching them, until they had rounded the rocks and were beyond her sight.
    For some reason that she couldn’t quite understand, but didn’t want to think too much about, her eyes filled with tears. She tried to blink them away, but Dirk saw them.
    “If you want me to,” he said, “I’ll go back and stomp a mud hole in her, as you Confederates like to say.”
    “Naw. Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly, you whompin’ a woman.”
    “You sure