Buried In Buttercream

back in the cell.”

    “We have conflicting stories about what happened when Ethan caught his friend doing the hokeypokey with his old lady,” Dirk remarked as he and Savannah exited the final gate of the jail and stepped into the sunlight.
    No bars. No metal. Savannah was immensely grateful.
    She lifted her face to the sun and breathed in the sweet, fresh air that smelled like sage and eucalyptus trees and ocean. A big improvement over sweat and urine and that indefinable but ever-present stench of stress and misery.
    “Yes,” she said. “Odelle says Ethan kicked Madeline out of the house the day he caught her and filed for a legal separation immediately.”
    “And good ol’ Arlo here says that he kept trying to get her back and that he’s the one who wound up with his suitcases on the porch.”
    “Funny how many different historical accounts there are for every major battle that’s been fought since the beginning of time.”
    “They say the final story’s written by the winner.”
    She thought of Madeline lying on the slab. Ethan and his parents who now had to raise a little girl without the child’s mother. Odelle having to sell her beloved home. Francie clinging to Willy’s pole for support. Arlo in an orange jumpsuit, looking at the world through cold, metal bars.
    It was hard to spot a winner among them.

Chapter 15
    “ A h, I needed this,” Savannah said as she and Dirk walked, hand in hand, along the San Carmelita pier, enjoying one of the prettiest sights on earth–a southern California sunset.
    The salt sea air had never smelled sweeter. In fact, she was so grateful to be on the “outside” again that she didn’t even mind the squawking seagulls circling overhead, begging for treats.
    “If one of those shit hawks craps on my head,” Dirk growled, “I’m going to take my weapon out and shoot him.”
    “Oh, you would not,” she said, squeezing his arm and leaning her head on his shoulder.
    “I’m not as big of an animal lover as you are,” he said.
    “Yes, you are. You’re worse,” she said. “I hear you talking all mushy to Cleo and Di when you think I’m not listening. Besides, you wouldn’t kill a wild animal like that bird,” she said, pointing toward a particularly beautiful gull circling directly over them. “You aren’t that good a shot.”
    He growled, but grinned down at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “How’re you feeling?” he said.
    “Fine, and don’t ask again.”
    She didn’t feel fine. Just walking the length of the pier had caused the pain under her breast to flare. And her legs were a little shaky as they neared the far end.
    At nearly two thousand feet in length, San Carmelita’s wooden pier was one of the longest in the state. But it shouldn’t have been an exhausting walk. She’d strolled it many times without giving it a thought.
    But that was before ...
    “Let’s sit down over here,” Dirk said, guiding her in the direction of the bench at the very end. “I wanna look at the waves for a while.”
    “You do not,” she snapped.
    Her curt, angry tone surprised her. She hardly recognized the voice as her own.
    But it didn’t seem to faze Dirk. “Yeah, I really do,” he said. “I want to sit with my girl and look at the ocean and get in touch with my inner, peaceful self.”
    “You’ve got one of those?”
    “Usually it takes a few beers and listening to Elvis or Johnny Cash to bring him, out, but ... yeah. I got one.”
    She moved toward the bench. “Well, then by all means, let’s sit down. I gotta meet this peaceful Dirk dude.”
    Once they were settled, she realized how chilly the wind was out here at the end of the pier at sunset. She chided herself for forgetting her jacket.
    A moment later, Dirk had taken off his old, leather bomber jacket and was wrapping it around her shoulders.
    “How very gallant of you,” she said, savoring the warmth of the jacket that still held the heat of his body and the scent that was his alone ... leather, Old Spice, cinnamon ... and him.
    “Hey, I gotta take care of my girl, especially now that she’s my fiancée.”
    Savannah’s mind reluctantly returned to another time, three months ago, when she had been lying on the floor, her life’s blood flowing out of her body, her strength fading fast. And he had taken off this very jacket and wrapped it around her, just like today.
    He had literally saved her life. And since that day, she had realized how precious life was.
    “You’ve