Bitter Sweets

think his name was Dick or Kirk something.”

    Savannah accepted the seat she was offered in the living room, a multipatched, leatherette chair. Mrs. Abernathy sat in a rocker and picked up a piece of cross-stitch. She didn’t appear to own a sofa...or much else for that matter, like her neighbor Lisa.

    "Yeah, I know about the trench coat,” Savannah admitted. "Detective Coulter is a friend of mine. Dirk doesn’t mean to uress like a slob: he’s just seen one too many episodes of ‘Columbo.’"

    "I didn't really mind. He was pretty nice... didn't have much of a sense of humor... but nice enough."

    "I suppose he asked you a lot of questions already."

    "Not that many. Mostly if I heard anything unusual the night Lisa and Christy were taken."

    "Did you?"

    She shook her head sadly. "Not a thing. The doctor gave me some new sleeping pills, 'cause I hadn't been able to get to sleep lately, and they worked really good that night."

    Great time to break a streak of insomnia, Savannah thought. If only... no, she wasn't going down that road again.

    "Mrs. Abernathy, how much did you know about Lisa Mal lock's personal life?"

    The woman's cheek twitched and she looked away quickly, as though Savannah had accused her of something. "Well, not that much really. Mostly, I just tend to my own business."

    "I'm sure you're the soul of discretion," Savannah said soothingly, summoning as much false sincerity as she could muster under the circumstances. "I've no doubt that you always respect the privacy of others. I just thought maybe you might have seen or heard something, living so close to Lisa and all. These duplexes do have thin walls."

    Mrs. A. cleared her throat and popped the top of her own can of cola. "I might of heard a thing or two. " She lowered her voice. "Maybe a figh t."

    "Between Lisa and someone else?"

    She nodded. "Yep. It was just hard words, loud voices, that's all. I didn't hear any fistfighting, you understand, or I would have called the police right away. 1 don't believe in that sort of business-a man hitting on a woman. My ex-husband tried that just once, and I kicked him out on his rear. "

    “Good for you. Now, Mrs. Abernathy...about this particular argument... do you know who the person was?”

    “Well... let’s see here.” Savannah watched as Mrs. Abernathy began to warm to the situation, feeling the measure of her own importance. She knew Savannah was hanging on her every word. “The big argument I heard was about two weeks ago. It was on a Sunday afternoon. I remember that because I had just gotten back from church and was in a prayerful mood, but that sort of ruined it, listening to all that hoopla.”

    “What exactly did you overhear?”

    “Lisa was telling some man to get out and not come back. Something about him not treating her little girl right. In fact...” She paused and glanced out the window as if expecting some sort of eavesdropper, but the coast was clear. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued, “Lisa told this man that if he showed his face around here again, she’d shoot him between the eyes.”

    “Are you sure you heard her say that exactly?”

    “Between the eyes, that’s what she said. I heard it clear as could be.”

    Savannah easily imagined the lady with her ear pressed to the wall, relishing every tidbit of potential gossip.

    “To your knowledge, did Lisa own a gun?”

    “She told me she did. Said she kept it around in case she had trouble with her ex-husband, said he was out to get her. Do you think he’s the one who killed her? Or do you figure it was the man she was arguing with that day?”

    “They weren’t the same man?”

    “No, not at all.”

    “How can you be sure?”

    “That policeman friend of yours, the one in the wrinkled coat, he showed me a picture of her ex-husband. And the fellow I saw coming and going that Sunday afternoon didn’t look anything like him.”

    Savannah coughed. “Well, Mr. Mallock had a way of altering his appearance, so-”

    “Nope. Altered or not, it wasn’t him, I tell you. This guy was real tall and had lots of curly blond hair, longer than yours. I saw him come over quite a few times. I’m pretty sure she was dating him... up until the day of the fight. He always wore jeans and long-sleeved shirts rolled up to his elbow, you know, to show off his muscles. He wasn’t a bad-looking fellow.”

    Savannah had taken her pad and pen from her tote and was making notes as fast as she could.