Bitter Sweets

redhead, with hair that was the same rich auburn as her brother’s. Like Brian O’Donnell, she had dark brown eyes. That was where the family resemblance ended. Her features were far more delicate, though she had the appearance of a woman who was growing old faster than her forty-five years suggested.

    Height: Five feet, six inches
    Weight: 130 pounds

    “Any previous convictions or outstanding warrants?” she asked.

    He punched some keys, brought up a new screen. “Nope.”

    “None?”

    “Notta single one. A very good girl.”

    “Yeah.” Savannah scowled and tapped her “Flaming Desire” crimson fingertips on the desk top.

    “Something wrong with that? You want her to have a record?”

    “Not really. But she does move around a lot. According to my client, her brother, he’s traced her to five addresses in the last year, this one being the last. Either she’s extremely unstable, or she’s running from something. I was thinking maybe it was the law.”

    “Bill collectors?”

    She nodded. “That would be my second guess. I’ll have Tammy run a credit check on her.”

    “Anything else?” Dirk’s eyes glowed, and not just from the sickly green light of the computer screen. He really did enjoy being a cop; it was something Savannah had always loved about him. It was what she missed most about no longer being his partner. They had shared the same obsessions-food, and solving whatever crime they were working on at the moment.

    “Yeah... one more thing.” She pulled a slip of paper from her purse. On it, she had scribbled the license plate number from the late model Lincoln Continental that had been parked in front of Beowulf s master’s house.

    “Run this plate for me?”

    “You got another ham sandwich in your purse?”

    With a sigh, she reached into her bag again and, this time, pulled out one of her favorite things in the world, a dark Swiss chocolate bar with hazelnut and maraschino cherry cream filling. She bought them by the dozen at Trader Joe’s; one never knew when one might be seized with a chocolate fit, and they were the only known cure.

    This was her last bar, which made it precious, indeed.

    She thrust it toward him, and he happily snatched it from her hand. “Now, give,” she muttered.

    More punching on the keyboard, two-finger typing. The computer clicked, beeped, and displayed a new screen.

    “Forrest Neilson,” Dirk announced.

    “Yep, that’s Beowulf s master, all right,” she said, gazing at the picture, the buzz of gray hair, the intense eyes. “And his license was renewed about the same time as Lisa Mallock’s, at the same address. Seems they were living together at one time, if not now.

    “The woman you’re looking for lives with Forrest Neilson?” Dirk said, staring at the picture on the screen.

    “Maybe. Don’t know for sure. When I asked, he didn’t really say, one way or the other. He just made it clear that she wasn’t available. Why? Do you know him?”

    “Sure I do. He’s Colonel Forrest Neilson, a Congressional Medal of Honor recipient, retired, very active in local vet programs. I met him at the American Legion last year. A great guy.”

    “A colonel? Really? Hmmmm....”

    “And you know what else?”

    “What’s that?”

    “He’s got a grown daughter...his only kid...adopted, I heard. Saw her from a distance one night... across a parking lot.”

    “Redhead? About five-six, 130 pounds?”

    He nodded and shoved the last bite of chocolate into his face. “Yep, just about that size,” he said around the mouthful. “And a real carrot top.”

    The next morning, as Savannah walked into the Moonlight Magnolia Detective Agency office-formerly known as her den-she saw Tammy snatch a pair of tortoiseshell framed glasses off her tiny face and stash them behind the computer monitor.

    “Aha! Caught ya!” she said, chuckling at the young woman’s vanity. She had been vain once, too. Long ago...when she had been much younger and cuter.

    Tammy giggled self-consciously. “Well, you know what they say about men not making passes at women who wear glasses.”

    “Yeah, I’ve heard that. But they also say that guys don’t leer at gals with big rears.” She placed her hands on her ample hips and struck a seductive pose. “But I’m here to tell you, darlin’, it just ain’t so.”

    Savannah leaned across her assistant, retrieved the glasses, and held them out to her. “The opposite sex isn’t all that picky...so, we