Buried In Buttercream

instance, I know that Francie killed that Madeline gal.”
    “You do?” Savannah said, working very hard not to get excited or to let it show in her voice. She’d been led down way too many dead-end paths to get too excited too early.
    “How do you know that?” Dirk asked.
    Bambi looked very pleased with herself. She was enjoying this a lot, and that alone made Savannah doubtful.
    Most genuine informers didn’t enjoy the act of informing. They did it for any one of a dozen reasons, and none of those motives were anything to put a smile on anyone’s face—unless, of course, they were getting paid for it.
    “Well ...” Bambi said. “I know that she told you that she was taking a nap in Willy’s office when that gal got killed. And she wasn’t.”
    “No? How can you be so sure?” Savannah asked.
    “Because I saw her sneaking out the back door. The rear entrance is right there by Willy’s office door, you know.”
    “Yes,” Savannah said. “We noticed that.”
    “You saw her sneaking out.” Dirk reached for his bag of cinnamon sticks on the dash and took one out. “How do you know she was ‘sneaking’ and not just ‘going’ out the door?”
    “She was creeping along, like on her tippy-toes, and looking around like she was hoping nobody was watching her.”
    He popped the cinnamon into his mouth. “But you were watching her.”
    “Yeah.”
    “From where?”
    “Just inside the door to the ladies’ can. It’s down the hall, out of sight. She didn’t know I was there.”
    “That’s it?” Savannah said. “You saw her tippy-toe out the door, and that’s your proof that she killed Madeline Aberson?”
    “Also, I heard her say something suspicious to Willy.”
    “What’s that?” Dirk asked.
    “When she came back a few hours later, she went up to him at the bar and whispered something to him. I heard it. She said, ‘I took care of her, like I told you I was gonna. So, that’s one problem that ain’t a problem no more.’”
    Savannah’s neck bristled again, but this time it was a good sign. This wasn’t a definitive, solid piece of evidence, but then, it might turn out to be something worthwhile.
    In the past, she had solved cases with less.
    “That’s pretty incriminating, don’t you think?” Bambi said. “It could mean something, huh?”
    Dirk had his poker face in place as he gave her the briefest nod. “Might. Might not. But thanks for telling us. Anything else?”
    Bambi seemed to get miffed in an instant. “What do you mean, ‘anything else?’ You expect me to solve your whole case for you? That’s pure gold, what I just gave you.”
    “We don’t know yet what you just gave us,” Savannah told her. “We’ll have to check it out.”
    “Well, there’s money offered for information in a case like this, isn’t there?” Bambi said, looking anything but innocent and doe-eyed as her stage name might suggest.
    In fact, Savannah thought as she looked into the dancer’s face, she looks pretty darned predatory herself right now.
    Back in Georgia, she’d seen chicken hawks looking friendlier at a hen they were about to tear apart.
    “I don’t know what sort of reward, if any, is being offered in this case,” Dirk told her. “But I do thank you for being such a good citizen and coming forward like this. I’m sure there’s a special place in eternity for informers like you.”
    Savannah nodded thoughtfully. “And especially those who do their good deeds right here on church property.”
    Bambi looked from one to the other, a frown deepening on her face. “I think I’m ready for you to take me back to Willy’s to get my car,” she said.
    “Definitely that time,” Dirk said, starting the Buick. “Yeah. I think we’re all ready.”

    Five minutes later, Savannah and Dirk were watching Bambi walk from their car across the parking lot to her own beat-up jalopy.
    “Do you think she did it?” Savannah asked him.
    “I don’t know if she did or not. Francie had a lot of hate for Madeline. We knew that after our talk with her.”
    “I wasn’t talking about Francie. I meant Bambi there.”
    “What would Bambi have against Madeline?”
    “Who knows. But did you get a load of the anger in her eyes when she was talking about it?”
    “Yeah, I picked up on that. Some definite hostility there. But why do you think she might be the killer?”
    Savannah shrugged. “I don’t really. I was just saying because ... well, you know how on Bonanza and Gunsmoke , it