Sugar and Spite by G. A. McKevett Page A

she just couldn’t stand Polly.
    Dead Polly.
    For half a second she felt guilty.
    “Any footprints in the blood?” she asked, changing the subject to another type of bodily fluid.
    “Just those made by somebody with bare feet.”
    “Damn,” Savannah muttered under her breath. “And that would be Dirk.”
    Eileen nodded knowingly. “That’s what we figured.”
    “What else?” Savannah felt a frantic anxiety welling up from her guts. “Don’t you have anything to show that someone else was there?”
    Savannah noticed that Eileen’s two workers were pretending to work, but obviously eavesdropping. Eileen began to doodle on a notepad beside her phone.
    “Nope, not at the moment,” Eileen said, though Savannah thought she picked up on some sort of hesitation in her voice. She continued to scribble. “I’d like to help you, Savannah,” she said, “but that’s it for now.”
    Savannah felt her anxiety level tighten a couple of notches, until she noticed that Eileen was pointing to the notepad where she had just been writing. She was wearing a cocky little grin on her face, like a kid with a secret.
    Savannah stood, glanced back at the other two, who resumed their typing and pretending to be busy. Then she looked over at the pad. Eileen had scribbled the words,
Come back after 17:00 hours. Got something to show you.
    Savannah smiled and nodded. “Thanks,” she said, “for nothin’, I guess.”
    “Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Eileen said as she stood and escorted Savannah back to the door. “But don’t hesitate to call or drop by if you think of anything else.”
    “I may do that,” Savannah said as she shook Eileen’s hand and gave the other two a dismissing nod.
    “Just one favor,” Eileen said, as she was going out the door. “Don’t let any of the brass know I let you in here.”
    “Don’t worry.” She zipped her lips. “Since when am I on speaking terms with those bastards?”
     
    * * *
     
    Back at the house, Savannah found a dejected Tammy sitting at the computer. The glass of mineral water, sprigged with celery and laced with a lemon wedge sat, untouched, on the coaster beside her. Apple slices were spread in a decorative pattern on a saucer. The kid was too depressed to eat or drink, Savannah noted. Not a good sign.
    “Find anything?” Savannah asked as she took a sip of Tammy’s water and grimaced. If a drink didn’t have alcohol, chocolate, or at least, some carbonation in it, it wasn’t worth drinking… except for fresh-squeezed lemonade, of course.
    Tammy rubbed her eyes wearily and shook her head. “Not really.” She pointed to a pile of pages she had printed on the edge of the desk. “Polly’s last seven addresses…”
    “Last seven?”
    Tammy nodded. “In one year. She moved a lot, mostly from one man’s place to another’s. And she had crummy credit. Big surprise.”
    Savannah glanced over the list of addresses. “Do you have the guy’s names?”
    “They’re there, too. Most of them are losers. A couple of professionals. One attorney and a dentist.”
    “Ah , yes… I noticed her smile was brighter and straighter than before, and Dr. Liu said she’d had a boob job.”
    “Trying to stay ahead of the aging game, I guess,” Tammy said.
    “Hey, I know how she feels. Wait until you look in the mirror and know you’ve seen better days, and that it’s downhill from now on. For a woman who’s depended on her looks to get by, that can be a real hard nut to crack.”
    “Luckily you and I don’t have to worry about that for another twenty years or so,” Tammy said with a grin that touched Savannah’s heart. The kid wasn’t always honest, but she was sweet.
    “Find out everything you can about these guys,” Savannah said, handing her back the list. “See if anybody has a record or has been involved in anything questionable. We’ll interview them, one by one, but we want to see who’s the most unsavory in the group and start with him. We don’t