her napkin and placed it in her lap. “You know, that’s a good question.”
“It is?”
“Yes, we really do need to set a date. Let’s see, we’ve been engaged for two months…”
“And five days, eight hours, thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds…” Michael said.
She laughed. “You’re silly.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said reaching over and kissing her on the lips. He then pulled back and stared into her eyes. “Will you marry me?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, when?”
Savannah poked her fork around in her salad. “Michael, let’s plan a get-away soon to discuss our wedding. Want to?”
He swallowed a bite and said, “Good idea, future wife. Big Sur?” he asked exaggerating a sexy look.
“Sounds good to me. But when? Should we wait until the…mess is cleaned up?”
“I vote no.” He reached out for her hand. “Let’s go this weekend—just the two of us.”
Savannah squeezed his hand. She looked at Michael. “Do you think we could get Jim to have someone patrol out here—you know, like more often over the weekend?”
“I’m sure we could. Let’s ask him.”
Savannah took a bite of her salad. “Oh, Michael…” She made little stabbing motions in the air with her fork, and swallowed. “You know, Reba does some house-sitting. I wonder if she and Charlotte would come here and stay with Rags while we’re gone?”
“What about her younger daughter, Ruby? Isn’t she allergic to cats?”
“Oh darn, yes she is.” Savannah sat back in her chair, pushed her hair off her forehead and said, “But I think she goes with her dad on the weekends.”
“Oh that’s right. They’re divorced now.” He took a sip of his iced tea and asked “Where’s Charlotte’s father? Do you know?”
“No, I’ve never heard anyone speak about him, just Robert—Ruby’s dad. I guess Charlotte’s father never really bonded with her.” She thought about it for a moment and said, “That’s a shame for both of them.” Savannah set her fork down. “I’ll call Reba tomorrow,” she said with a look of anticipation. She reached for her iced tea. “I just hope Iris will have settled down some by then.”
He took her hand. “Honey, this is about us. We’re important, too.”
“Of course we are, Michael. I’m sorry. I’m not very good wife material, yet, am I?” She looked adoringly at him. “Yes, it’s all about us.”
***
“Hello, Ms. Clampton?”
“Yes?” she said hesitantly.
“This is Detective Craig Sledge. I’d like to speak with you. Can you come down to the office sometime today? And, certainly, bring your son, Damon, if you can.”
“Um, yes. I guess I can come this afternoon. I’m off work at two-thirty.” She rubbed her hand over the tender spot on her cheek. “Not sure about my son.”
“And Ms. Clampton, if you know an attorney, you might bring him or her along.”
Iris felt a familiar fluttering in her chest. Palpitations…I’m having those darn palpitations again. So annoying. What does he mean bring an attorney? “Are…are you charging me with something?” she asked.
“Uh, it depends, Ms. Clampton, on your story. Shall we say three? Does that work for you?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Frank poked his head around the corner behind the diner. “Someone’s asking for you, Iris.”
“Who?” she practically demanded.
“Sheesh, don’t kill the messenger. It’s your friend—the tall chick.”
“Please ask her to come back here, will you?—I’m on break.” She slid the phone into her pocket and blotted at her eyes with the skirt of her apron. “Oh hi, Savannah.” Iris walked over for a brief hug.
“Hi.” Savannah looked around. “This is nice, Iris.” She walked over to one of the potted vines. “Gosh, look how much these have grown since you planted them. I love the purple flowers. What is it, again?”
Iris glanced up. “Morning glory.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, they do dress this dismal place up, don’t they? Remember, I
“It is?”
“Yes, we really do need to set a date. Let’s see, we’ve been engaged for two months…”
“And five days, eight hours, thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds…” Michael said.
She laughed. “You’re silly.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said reaching over and kissing her on the lips. He then pulled back and stared into her eyes. “Will you marry me?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, when?”
Savannah poked her fork around in her salad. “Michael, let’s plan a get-away soon to discuss our wedding. Want to?”
He swallowed a bite and said, “Good idea, future wife. Big Sur?” he asked exaggerating a sexy look.
“Sounds good to me. But when? Should we wait until the…mess is cleaned up?”
“I vote no.” He reached out for her hand. “Let’s go this weekend—just the two of us.”
Savannah squeezed his hand. She looked at Michael. “Do you think we could get Jim to have someone patrol out here—you know, like more often over the weekend?”
“I’m sure we could. Let’s ask him.”
Savannah took a bite of her salad. “Oh, Michael…” She made little stabbing motions in the air with her fork, and swallowed. “You know, Reba does some house-sitting. I wonder if she and Charlotte would come here and stay with Rags while we’re gone?”
“What about her younger daughter, Ruby? Isn’t she allergic to cats?”
“Oh darn, yes she is.” Savannah sat back in her chair, pushed her hair off her forehead and said, “But I think she goes with her dad on the weekends.”
“Oh that’s right. They’re divorced now.” He took a sip of his iced tea and asked “Where’s Charlotte’s father? Do you know?”
“No, I’ve never heard anyone speak about him, just Robert—Ruby’s dad. I guess Charlotte’s father never really bonded with her.” She thought about it for a moment and said, “That’s a shame for both of them.” Savannah set her fork down. “I’ll call Reba tomorrow,” she said with a look of anticipation. She reached for her iced tea. “I just hope Iris will have settled down some by then.”
He took her hand. “Honey, this is about us. We’re important, too.”
“Of course we are, Michael. I’m sorry. I’m not very good wife material, yet, am I?” She looked adoringly at him. “Yes, it’s all about us.”
***
“Hello, Ms. Clampton?”
“Yes?” she said hesitantly.
“This is Detective Craig Sledge. I’d like to speak with you. Can you come down to the office sometime today? And, certainly, bring your son, Damon, if you can.”
“Um, yes. I guess I can come this afternoon. I’m off work at two-thirty.” She rubbed her hand over the tender spot on her cheek. “Not sure about my son.”
“And Ms. Clampton, if you know an attorney, you might bring him or her along.”
Iris felt a familiar fluttering in her chest. Palpitations…I’m having those darn palpitations again. So annoying. What does he mean bring an attorney? “Are…are you charging me with something?” she asked.
“Uh, it depends, Ms. Clampton, on your story. Shall we say three? Does that work for you?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Frank poked his head around the corner behind the diner. “Someone’s asking for you, Iris.”
“Who?” she practically demanded.
“Sheesh, don’t kill the messenger. It’s your friend—the tall chick.”
“Please ask her to come back here, will you?—I’m on break.” She slid the phone into her pocket and blotted at her eyes with the skirt of her apron. “Oh hi, Savannah.” Iris walked over for a brief hug.
“Hi.” Savannah looked around. “This is nice, Iris.” She walked over to one of the potted vines. “Gosh, look how much these have grown since you planted them. I love the purple flowers. What is it, again?”
Iris glanced up. “Morning glory.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, they do dress this dismal place up, don’t they? Remember, I
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