Bitter Sweets

straight, but the one to the third weight was loose, as though something were lifting it, rather than pulling it down.

    More than any of the others in the house, this clock had to be the colonel’s pride and joy. It was obviously older and more valuable than the rest. Savannah couldn’t imagine him neglecting its service or allowing it to be in disrepair.

    Kneeling in front of the clock, she lifted the shining brass latch and opened the lower casing.

    Once she could see inside, she knew what had halted the downward progression of the weight. It was resting on a small, wooden case.

    Instantly, she recognized the type of box, and her hopes for a happy solution to this puzzle fell, even as her investigator’s excitement rose.

    It was a gun case.

    Carefully setting the box on the carpet, she opened the lid and looked inside.

    Nestled in a sculpted bed of aged red velvet, was one of the most beautiful pistols she had ever seen. It was a chrome-plated, .45 caliber, four-inch-long reduced barrel, Colt Commander. A trophy gun, given to an officer by his men.

    The engraving on the side confirmed her theory.

    “TO CAPT. F.L. NEILSON WITH GRATITUDE AND DEVOTION, FROM THE MEN OF FOXFIRE COMPANY.”

    “I knew I should throw it off the end of the pier,” said a deep male voice behind her. Savannah jumped to her feet and whirled around to see the colonel standing in the kitchen door, watching her with a sad, sick look on his face. “I even drove down there at midnight to toss it in...but when it came right down to it, I just couldn’t.”

    “I understand,” Savannah said. “I don’t think I could have either. It’s a beautiful piece.”

    “It means more to me than that medal over there.” He nodded toward the glass-topped wooden case. “The president who pinned that on me didn’t even know who I was... what I was all about. But the soldiers who gave me that pistol, they knew me better than any human being ever has, including my own wife. They fought with me, side by side. You can’t get closer than that.”

    For the first time since Savannah had met him, she thought he looked even older than his seventy years as he walked over to his easy chair and collapsed onto it.

    “You might as well have a seat, Miss Reid,” he said, waving a hand toward the sofa. “It appears you and I have a lot to talk about.”

    Savannah glanced down at the pistol. She hadn’t taken it out of its box, and she had no idea if it was loaded or not.

    But, loaded or empty she decided that, if she was going to sit on the sofa and have a chat with Colonel Forrest Neilson, it was a good idea to take his gun with her.

    “Oh, Dirk. Come on in. I’m glad you’re finally here,” Tammy said as she ushered Dirk across the bougain villea-covered porch and into the house.

    Dirk was surprised, almost shocked. Since when was Tammy Hart happy to see him?

    Her face was a bit red; maybe she had gotten too much sun.

    “I’m really starting to worry about Savannah,” she said, gripping his arm.

    “I’ll tell you right now, that’s a full-time job with no benefits. Believe me, I’ve done it for years. Don’t even get started.”

    “I talked to her about forty-five minutes ago on the phone, and she was at Colonel Neilson’s home.”

    “What’s she doing there?”

    “Snooping, I think. She said she didn’t have an invitation.”

    “Yeap, that’s what ‘she calls it, all right. She broke into a colonel’s house...a friend of the chief of police. I swear, I-”

    “Dirk, she told me she had found something, but she didn’t say what. And she said she was coming home soon. Where is she?”

    “Knowing Savannah, there’s no way to tell. But she’s the only woman I’ve ever known who can wind up in hot water and deep shit at the same time.”

    Tammy wrinkled her pert nose and pursed her lips as though she had just sucked on a sour lemon. “Oooo, that’s gross. Must you be so crude, Detective Coulter?”

    Dirk chuckled. Other than the fact that they had no idea what sort of trouble Savannah had gotten herself into, or what he would have to do to get her out, things were back to normal.

    “Where is your granddaughter, Colonel?” Savannah asked.

    “Safe. That’s all I’m going to tell you right now,” he replied.

    “Did she see you kill her father?”

    “No, of course not. What kind of a man do you take me for? I waited outside until she had left the shack to relieve herself in the woods. That’s