Buried In Buttercream by G. A. McKevett

her granddaughter’s cheek. “You get back to your man, sweetie pie. Don’t pay this bunch no never mind. I’ll see to it they behave themselves and get back home all right.”
    â€œWhat about feeding them?”
    â€œThat’s the least of your troubles. Every blamed one of them knows full well how to stack a bologna sandwich if it comes to that. They’re not a bunch of helpless children anymore, even if they do act like it when you and me are around. We spoil that lot, Savannah. Always have.”
    â€œIs it okay, then, really, if I work this case with Dirk and leave you all to fend for yourselves?”
    â€œIt’s more than okay. It’s the right thing to do. Take care of your detective business. It’s what you do best, and the only thing that’ll take your mind off what you lost here today.”
    As Savannah walked away from her grandmother and crossed the lawn, heading back to the clubhouse and the crime scene, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to hold it together much longer. She felt like she had been through a rough cycle in a giant washing machine.
    And she was about to fall apart at the seams.

Chapter 7
    W hen Savannah arrived back at the bridal suite, she found the Crime Scene Investigation squad in full swing.
    The once immaculate room now bore a dark coating of fingerprint powder on nearly every surface. And the print technician squatted beside the bedroom door, deftly swirling her long bristled brush over the knob.
    Another tech was in the bathroom, swabbing the sink with cotton swabs, which he then stuck into vials and sealed them.
    A third was on her hands and knees, shining a bright light onto the carpet. She stopped and used a pair of tweezers to pick up a wad of some sort of fuzz and put it into an envelope.
    Dirk stood over her, watching, with a look of dark concern on his face. His hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his tuxedo. His head was down. Savannah could tell, just by his posture, that he was very unhappy.
    He did seem to perk up slightly, though, when he saw her.
    Leaving the technicians to their work, he walked over to stand with her in the open doorway leading to the hall.
    â€œAnything yet?” she asked.
    â€œNo. You know how hard it is to process a suite like this where multiple guests stay. It’s as bad as a hotel room. You never know what you’ve got or who it’s from. Could be anybody, with all the people that pass through a place like this.”
    â€œAny good prints?”
    â€œA few. But how much you wanna bet most of them are yours?”
    â€œTrue. Did Dr. Liu transport the body yet?”
    â€œShe just left with it. Said she’d get right on the autopsy.”
    â€œGood.”
    He nodded down the hallway. “How’re the troops?”
    â€œHungry. I told them to eat cake.”
    â€œSuppose we’ll get some this time?”
    â€œAbout as much as we got before.”
    â€œThat’s what I was afraid of.” He glanced at his watch. “I called Ryan a minute ago, asked him and John to come by here.”
    â€œDo they know yet?”
    â€œThey heard it was a dead body, not who it was.”
    â€œDamn. She’s ... er ... she was ... a friend of theirs.”
    â€œI know.”
    Savannah heard footsteps behind her, and when she turned, she saw Ryan and John striding down the hallway toward them, worried looks on their faces.
    â€œI’d rather have a root canal than do this,” Dirk said.
    â€œI’ll do it,” she told him. “It would be better coming from me.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Ryan asked as they approached. “What’s better coming from you?”
    â€œWhat’s wrong, love?” John said, taking her arm and looking into her eyes with sweet concern.
    She’d rather do anything than hurt these dear people. But ...
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said. “You may have heard that we had a ...