Bitter Sweets

explained. “Translation: Any problem-take cover.”

    “Got it.”

    Savannah glanced around the parking lot, but saw only two other cars. “Mallock was driving a late model Ford sedan when he came to my office,” she told Dirk. “I don’t see it or the Jeep that he’s registered to at the DMV.”

    “Not too surprising that he’d change cars,” Dirk added. “If he was smart enough to pull the wool over your eyes, he’s no dumbbell.”

    “Thanks, I guess,” she muttered as they headed up the walkway toward the door marked “Office.”

    “Do you really think he’s here?” Tammy asked, darting uneasy glances right and left at the quaint log cabins that were tucked among fragrant pines in a semicircle around the lake’s edge.

    Savannah breathed in the moist, rich scent of forest loam and sighed. “Somehow, I douhf it. But we’ll know soon.”

    “He isn’t here.”

    The lean, mean, overworked, and underfed secretary behind the counter stared at the two photos, shaking her head. From the combined smells of the office, Savannah surmised that the woman subsisted on strong coffee and menthol cigarettes. Like a Vegas blackjack dealer, she snapped both pictures onto the counter and pushed them in Savannah’s direction. One was the DMV photo of Earl Mallock, the second the department artist’s sketch of the same picture, minus the excess poundage, plus red hair and brown eyes.

    “Are you sure?” Dirk sounded thoroughly aggravated, but the secretary didn’t flinch. She gave him a cold stare, adjusted a twig of hair that had strayed from the French twist at the back of her head and said, “I’m sure. We only have three guests here now, so they’re pretty easy to keep track of.”

    “Have you ever seen him?” Savannah asked. Hoping. It never hurt to hope.

    “Oh, yeah. He rents here all the time. Was here for a couple of weeks, left just last night.”

    “Well, hell, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Dirk asked, shoving his omnipresent toothpick to the right corner of his mouth.

    “You asked if he is a guest, not if he was .”

    Savannah could tell the secretary was enjoying baiting Dirk. Everyone did. His surly attitude seemed to bring out the worst in nearly everyone around him.

    “Can you tell us what cabin he was staying in?” Tammy asked sweetly, batting long lashes like a Mississippi coquette. “And we’d like to look at it, if you don’t mind.”

    Dirk shot Tammy a warning glance. “I told you to keep back. I’m the one with the badge here. I’m doing the asking.” He turned back to the secretary. “Which cabin?”

    She ignored Dirk and pressed a key into Tammy’s palm. “Number Fourteen. There’s no one there now, so look around if you want. I haven’t had a chance to clean it up yet... was going to get to that later this afternoon. Just be sure to lock it up tight after you leave.”

    “Give me that damned key,” Dirk growled as the threesome left the office and hurried down the well-worn path to the cabin in question.

    With great ceremony Tammy dropped it into his outstretched hand. “You’re welcome.”

    Before he could close his fingers around it, Savannah snatched it away. “Enough of this crap,” she said, sobering as they neared the log cottage with the numbers painted in red on the green door. “We’re all a bit on edge,” she admitted. “But we’ve gottta look sharp now. There’s no telling what we’ll find in there.”

    Savannah knew the moment she cracked the door. She could smell it. The stench of death.

    Her heart sank to her shoes, and for a moment she couldn’t move.

    “You’d better wait out here, Tammy,” she said finally, pushing the door open.

    “But-”

    “No buts. Stay out here and keep your eyes peeled for Mallock. If you see anything, just let out a holler.”

    Savannah gave Dirk a telling look and he returned it as he, too, entered the tiny cabin.

    “Shit,” he said under his breath.

    “Yeah.”

    A quick glance told her the room was empty...if rotten smells, residual horror, and all-around dark, creepy vibes didn’t count.

    The cabin consisted of three small rooms, the main living area which had a threadbare, floral sofa, a tiny refrigerator, and a sink. Through one door to the left, Savannah could see a primitive bathroom, and through another, a bed.

    “Hello?” Dirk said.

    Only the eerie, heavy silence replied.

    Savannah started to call out for Lisa or Christy, but couldn’t bring