Bitter Sweets

for the uneaten cheesecake, Gran said, “You were a police officer for years, Savannah. I would have thought you’d made hundreds of decisions like that.”

    “1 suppose I did. But usually, the choice had to be made in a matter of minutes, sometimes only seconds. 1 didn’t have time to think it through. 1 just acted on instinct.”

    “Maybe that’s what you should do now. Listen to your heart, Savannah.”

    “It isn’t talking.”

    “It’s always talking. If you can’t hear it, it’s because you aren’t listening.”

    Savannah sighed, leaned her head back on the chair, and closed her eyes. “I’m just so afraid that I’ll make the wrong decision and it’ll turn out badly.”

    “From where you stand now, you can’t foresee the future. You can’t possibly know if it will turn out well or not. But even if it all goes to hell in a handbasket, that doesn’t mean you made the wrong decision.”

    Savannah opened her eyes and studied the dear old face, loving every line. “What do you mean?”

    “People are always judging their decisions by the outcome, and that’s just plain foolish. There have been lots of decisions made in this world that have caused a heap of human suffering and misery. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t the right choice to make at the time.”

    Savannah thought that one over, while stroking Diamante’s satiny head. “So, if you don’t base your decision on what you believe the outcome will be...what’s the deciding factor.”

    “You go with what you feel is the morally right thing to do.”

    “What if you’re a bit fuzzy about that?”

    “You do the best you can and, as long as your heart is being as honest as it can, you trust that the Almighty will take up the slack. It’s all any of us can do.”

    Savannah thought of Earl Mallock, lying on the floor of that tin shed, a bullet through his brain. “But Gran,” she said, “I know someone who did exactly what you’re saying. He made a decision which he thought was morally upright, but he was wrong. It can’t be a moral act to take another human being’s life...except as an act of self-defense or in defense of society.”

    “I agree with you. But the person you’re speaking of...whoever this individual might be,” she added with a sly smile, “... didn’t agree. If he’s a man of honor, he did what he felt he had to do, and he’ll understand that you’ve gotta do the same.”

    Savannah felt a sinking sensation in her stomach, as though her half a piece of cheesecake had been made of rocks instead of chocolate.

    “I don’t like it, Gran,” she said. “Not at all.”

    Granny Reid buried the fork in the decadent confection and scooped up a generous bite of cake and raspberry sauce. “Yeah...well... what’s ‘liking’ got to do with the price of tea in China?”

    It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning when Savannah knocked on Dirk’s trailer door. He took a long time to answer, as she had expected he would. Along with a love of food and nabbing criminals, she and Dirk shared another common bond: Neither one was a morning person.

    “What the hell?” he asked as he cracked the door and stuck his head out. “Oh, it’s you.”

    “Lovely to see you, too,” she replied.

    “What time is it?”

    She looked up at the sky which was only just beginning to streak with the first rays of sunlight. “Dawn-thirty. Rise and shine, big boy.”

    “I’m risen, but there’s no way I’m gonna shine, for you or anybody, this early.”

    He stepped back and threw the door open, waving her inside.

    She wasn’t surprised to see he was wearing only his boxers and an undershirt. Modesty wasn’t high on Dirk’s list of virtues, and he had told her once that he considered robes an extravagance and pajamas sissy.

    “I need coffee,” she said, plopping down on his sofa.

    “And I need three more hours of sleep. Looks like we’re both outta luck.”

    He sat down beside her, ran his fingers through his hair, and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to get to a market. Want some water?”

    “Bottled?”

    “Tap.”

    “No, thanks. I don’t have any of Ryan’s iodine tablets on me.”

    He leaned back and draped his arm casually across the top of the sofa. His expression wasn’t casual. “Okay, spit it out. You didn’t come over here at this hour for coffee. You’ve got a cupboard full of that gourmet shit in your own kitchen.”

    She took a big breath.