Buried In Buttercream

shockingly bright shade of red. “That rotten, lousy bitch. I hate her! What did she tell you this time?”
    “What do you think she told me?” Dirk asked evenly.
    “Did she complain that I was threatening her life again?”
    When Dirk didn’t reply, she said, “That’s what I thought. I make a couple of stinking phone calls, and she runs to the police about it.”
    “When did you make these calls?” Dirk asked.
    “Oh, I don’t know. I guess a couple of days ago.”
    Savannah flashed back on Madeline’s cell phone playing “La Cucaracha,” and she smiled. How much do you wanna bet, she thought, when Dirk gets the phone records, it’ll have been her?
    “What a pathetic loser that Madeline is,” Francie kept spewing. “And while she was being a busybody tattletale, did she happen to mention why I threatened her?”
    “We’d like to hear your side of the story,” Savannah said. “We’d like for you to tell us why.”
    “Because she won’t leave Arlo alone! He told her it was over, that he never wanted to see her ugly old face again.” She turned to Savannah. “Did you get a load of that eye job. Oh my gawd, did that doctor butcher her or what?”
    Savannah resisted the urge to meow and claw the air. Even Diamante and Cleo weren’t catty enough to mention a botched plastic surgery.
    Although, maybe it wasn’t a fair comparison, since Madeline Aberson hadn’t slept with either of their husbands.
    “Why do you care if she calls Arlo?” Dirk asked. “Aren’t you and him broke up now?”
    “Well, yes. But we would be anyway, no matter what happened between her and him.”
    “Why’s that?” Savannah asked.
    “ ’Cause he’s in jail for hitting me again. And that’s a real bummer.”
    “I’ll bet it is.”
    “Yeah, when he’s in jail, he can’t work and there’s no money. That’s why I have to dance in a place like this. But we might get back together when he gets out ... if she’ll just stay away from him. That’s why I called her and threatened to hurt her, to get her to leave him alone. I didn’t mean what I said about shooting her in the back in a dark alley. I wouldn’t do a thing like that.”
    She shrugged. “Hell, I don’t even own a gun.”
    Savannah and Dirk exchanged glances.
    “Shoot her in the back in a dark alley. Hmm,” Savannah said. “How do you feel about well-lit bridal suite terraces?”
    “What?” Francie looked genuinely confused, but Savannah wasn’t sure.
    “And how about ice picks?” Dirk asked. “Where do you stand on those?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yeah, I have an ice pick. But I hardly ever use it. Once in a while I do, when I have girlfriends over for margaritas. I have to break up the ice that comes in those plastic bags that you get at the liquor store. Why?”
    Dirk stood there, looking at her, studying her face closely for a long time. Then he said, “Do you know why we’re here, Ms. Di Napoli?”
    “I figure it’s because she called you and complained about me calling her, telling her I’d hurt her if she didn’t leave my man alone.” She reached back and nervously twisted her long hair into the facsimile of a ponytail. “You’re here to tell me not to have any contact with her, or I’ll get in trouble. Right?”
    “No,” Savannah said. “We didn’t drive all the way out to a dive like Willy’s—vacation hotspot that it is—just to soak in the atmosphere and referee a fight between an ex-wife and the ‘other woman.’”
    “Then why did you come?” Francie had been sprawled on the sofa, but she snapped to attention ... even moved to the edge of the cushion. “What’s up? Nothing’s wrong with Arlo, right?”
    “To the best of our knowledge, Arlo’s okay,” Dirk told her. “Madeline Aberson isn’t.”
    “What’s wrong with her ... besides being a witch on wheels, that is?”
    “If she’s a witch, she’s a dead one,” Savannah said.
    Francie gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, reminding Savannah of a cartoon critter. “Are you kidding me?” she finally squeaked out.
    “I wouldn’t kid about a thing like murder,” Savannah replied.
    “Murder? Murder? Are you telling me that somebody actually killed that stupid bitch ... someone besides me, that is?”
    “Actually, that’s what we’re trying to figure out right now,” Dirk said.
    She jumped up from the sofa so fast that she nearly lost her apron. “Hey, wait a damned