Buried In Buttercream

again, Savannah and Dirk were driving along the winding streets through Spirit Hills, the posh community where Savannah intended to live when she grew up someday.
    That was also the day when she won the lottery, the Miss America Pageant, and married Prince Charming.
    “Oh, yeah,” she told Dirk. “I’m going to have to revise my life plan. You’ve thrown a monkey wrench into the works.”
    “What?” he said. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
    “Of course not. I never talk to myself. You’re the one who does that.”
    “What were you saying about your life plan?”
    “Only that I’d intended to grow up and marry a prince, so you’re messing up my plans.”
    “I feel really bad about that.”
    He didn’t look the least bit remorseful. In fact, he was giving her a little smirk that made her want to whack him and kiss him at the same time.
    “How about just a prince of a guy?” he said. “A man among men. A studly stud. A hunk, a hunk of burnin’ love.”
    “Whose good looks and virility are surpassed only by his humility.”
    “Yeah, something like that.”
    “Okay, I guess you’ll do.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    “Prince Charming’s horse probably broke down on the way here.”
    “Threw a shoe on the Golden State Freeway.”
    “Yeah, something like that.”
    They had arrived at Odelle Peters’s house just in time to see an enormous truck backing into the driveway.
    “Uh-oh,” Savannah said. “Moving day.”
    “That’s rough.” He pulled the Buick to the curb across the street from the house. “Moving’s tough enough, even under the best of circumstances... .”
    “Like when you’re moving from a trailer into your new wife’s cute little house?”
    “Exactly. But to lose your house like that ... I don’t particularly like this gal, but I feel for her.”
    “A lot of people are in her shoes these days,” Savannah said sadly. “I feel for all of them.”
    They got out of the car and walked up to the front door, which was standing wide open. Dozens of cardboard boxes were stacked in the foyer.
    Farther inside the house, Savannah could see still more boxes and pieces of furniture swaddled in padded covers.
    A couple of burly fellows had begun to carry the cardboard boxes out to the truck.
    “You be careful with that stuff!” Savannah and Dirk heard Odelle shout from several rooms away. “Those are valuable antiques, and don’t think I won’t sue your boss to kingdom come if you break anything!”
    A moment later she came stomping out of a room toward the rear of the house and into the entryway. “Hey, that’s a mirror you’ve got there, buddy, and you’d better—”
    She caught sight of Savannah and Dirk and stopped abruptly. The cross look on her face deepened into something akin to loathing.
    “You two again?” she snapped. “I thought we’d already said all we needed to say to each other.”
    “Do you know a Celia Barnhart-Wynn?” Dirk asked without bothering to exchange any mundane pleasantries.
    Savannah agreed it was the right move. Odelle didn’t seem to be in a “pleasantries” sort of mood.
    “Of course I know her!” she returned. “She’s one of the reasons I had to sell my house! I had to settle up with her, and at least half a dozen of Madeline’s other highly dissatisfied customers.”
    “But why is that?” Savannah asked. “If they were her customers and not yours ...”
    “We were partners, remember? And when she started to go downhill, I couldn’t get our assets untangled fast enough. She brought me down with her.”
    “I’m sorry,” Savannah said, sincerely meaning it. She’d seen too many people dragged under by their associations with the wrong people.
    It seemed so unfair. But then, many things seemed unfair. The older she got, the more she was pretty certain that the whole concept of “fair” was a hoax played on children, like Santa and the Tooth Fairy, only minus the magic and fun. The world wasn’t a fair place, and to expect it to be only ensured disappointment.
    “We just went to see Celia Barnhart,” Savannah told her. “She has a lot of hatred for Madeline, blames her for ruining her wedding.”
    “Oh, pleeez. Celia’s no different from any other spoiled, impossible-to-please bridezilla.”
    “Impossible to please? Madeline never even showed at the wedding. Celia had no flowers. No hotel room for her honeymoon night. That goes beyond just being spoiled, now doesn’t it?”
    Odelle walked past them to an