Bitter Sweets

daddy-in-law. An MP... in “Nam.” Dirk pointed to an assortment of dog tags, uniform patches, and other military paraphernalia. “Hm-m-mm...looks like he was in the same battalion as Colonel Neilson, but Neilson wouldn’t have been a colonel back then.”

    “A combat-experienced, former army military police, wife stalker, with anarchist tendencies, who makes his own bullets. Not a particularly comforting profile.”

    ‘Especially since we don’t even know where he is, or where he’s been living for the past few months.”

    Savannah thumbed through the remaining magazines in the box and one of the last ones caught her eye. “Look at this,” she said, holding it up for his inspection.

    “Vacations International?” Dirk frowned. “So what? It’s a travel mag.”

    “It’s more than that. My sister Vidalia gets this. She and her husband bought one of those condo time-shares a few years ago. This is the directory for other participating resorts across the country, in case you want to trade your week for another location.”

    Dirk was suddenly interested. “You think Mallock owns something like that?”

    “It was sent to him and Lisa at their house last year,” she said, studying the mailing address label. “You don’t get these directories unless you’re a paying member.”

    Quickly, Savannah began to scan the magazine, looking for the Southern California locations. “If there’s anything local, he could be staying ...” She found what she was looking for. “Three. There are three of them within easy driving distance of San Carmelita. One at a hot springs up in Los Padres, another on the beach at the marina, and ... some cabins on Lake Arroyo.”

    They both glanced at the fishing paraphernalia propped in the corner: rods, tackle boxes, nets, and hip boots.

    “Isn’t Lake Arroyo famous for its bass,” she asked, tossing the magazines back into the box.

    “Yep, I caught a couple of nice ones there last fall.”

    “Let’s go.”

    When Savannah and Dirk arrived at the Whispering Pines Lodge on Lake Arroyo, Savannah wasn’t surprised-though she was a bit uneasy-to see Tammy Hart’s hot pink Volkswagen sitting in the rear of the parking lot with the blonde inside. Earlier, Savannah had called her office to check for messages and had made the mistake of mentioning the latest development to Tammy.

    “I want to come along,” she had insisted. “1 want to be there when you catch that creep.”

    “Nothing says we’re going to catch him, Tammy,” Savannah had replied.

    “But you might. And 1 feel really bad about all this, like it was my fault and-”

    “Okay, okay, it wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine, but you can meet us there. Park in the back of the lot and stay in your car until Dirk and I arrive. Don’t you dare make a move on your own. You could get yourself hurt or cause us to lose him.”

    Tammy had promised, and Savannah was relieved to see that she had been sensible, resisting the temptation to play Annie Oakley and charge in alone. Or, maybe, she had been just plain scared; but that, too, would be sensible under the circumstances.

    Savannah climbed out of the Camaro just as Dirk was parking the Skylark next to Tammy. As Savannah had suspected, Dirk didn’t look very happy to see her.

    “What are you doin’ here?” he asked as Tammy hurried up to them, an eager, flushed look on her pretty face.

    “Savannah said I could come along.”

    “Oh, yeah?” Dirk turned his scowl on Savannah. “And who died and made you Mama Bear around here?”

    With a start, Savannah realized that, for the first time, she and Dirk were not partners anymore, homicide detectives with the same rank and authority. He was the law enforcement officer in charge of the situation; she was merely a civilian along for the ride.

    On the other hand, he was still plain old Dirk, and she would only let him take this “head honcho” stuff so far.

    “She wanted to come, and I said she could. That’s it, that’s all.” Savannah crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her chin. She and Dirk had been together too long for him to mistake the stance.

    “All right, all right. We’re wasting precious time here. You .. . stay back and out of the way,” he told Tammy. “And if anything funny starts to go down, eat some dirt.”

    Tammy looked at Savannah and raised one delicate, arched eyebrow questioningly.

    “He’s speaking Macho Ass-lish again,” Savannah