Buried In Buttercream

cheap cigar and made him puff on it till he puked. That was Gran’s technique for keeping all of us away from Demon Tobaccy.”
    “I’ll bet it worked.”
    “Like a charm. Well, that and the threat of a trip behind the woodshed.”
    “Granny was strict with you guys.”
    “It didn’t hurt us none. She dished out way more love than she ever did whuppins.”
    A “Shave and a Haircut” knock sounded on their door ... with one extra little tap at the end.
    “Dirko,” Tammy said. “He thinks that ‘secret knock’ of his is so original.”
    “He’s a man,” Savannah said. “So, he suffers from delusions of grandeur. It’s part of the charm of the gender. Let him in before he goes to his authoritarian police knock and disturbs the whole building.”
    Savannah groaned as she sat up, stretched, opened her eyes, and looked around.
    No, the room wasn’t that bad. It was actually sort of charming, in a haunted-house, bordello sort of way.
    The dark mahogany furniture was antique, but in good condition, and the plum velvet bedspreads added a typical, overdone Vegas touch. The antique lamp with its fringed shade gave a golden glow to the room. And on the walls, the Victorian-era prints in their gilded frames added a certain ambiance.
    When they had first entered the room, Savannah had decided that this was, indeed, the perfect place for a funeral directors’ convention.
    And with any luck, it might turn out to be the perfect place to catch a cold-blooded killer.
    Tammy opened the door and Dirk entered, followed by Waycross.
    Dirk took one look around the room and said, “Hey, you gals got big beds. We got twins. What’s with that?”
    “We made eyes at the guy who checked us in. Did you?” Savannah asked.
    “Of course not.”
    “Then don’t complain. You want the perks, you gotta put out. Besides, you don’t really want to sleep in a queen bed, do you?”
    “No, but a couple of kings would’ve been nice.”
    “Stop your complaining,” Tammy said, offering him a freshly washed and polished, organic apple. “And sit down over there. We’ve got to come up with a plan. A plan to catch this sucker so that we can go back home and you two can get married. A brilliant plan. A super plan. A sneaky plan.”

    “This was the plan?” Dirk asked Savannah the next morning as they stood across the lobby of the Victoriana and watched Tammy and Waycross as the two of them watched Ethan Aberson.
    They had hung around the lobby in pairs, pretending to chitchat until Aberson had walked through. They’d recognized him instantly from his DMV photo. And Savannah had to admit that he was even more attractive in person.
    Tall and muscular, with thick prematurely silver hair, and a deep tan, he didn’t look like the stereotype of the pale, thin, black-haired undertaker.
    Again, a somewhat annoyed Dirk said, “Is this the sneaky, brilliant plan?”
    “I guess so,” Savannah replied. “Why?”
    “It seems sorta stupid. Why don’t I just go up and talk to him, grill him ... you know, the usual? Isn’t that what we came here for?”
    Unaware that he was being watched by a couple who were themselves being watched, Ethan strolled over to a stand that held brochures, advertising some of the many, many attractions the city had to offer.
    Tammy and Waycross meandered over to the window and pretended to look outside. But it was obvious to Savannah that Tammy was observing Ethan’s every action in a mirror on the wall.
    “You and I might have come here just to talk to him,” Savannah said. “But Tammy’s all hot to trot to do some hardcore detecting first. And she might be right. Why don’t we observe him for a while and see what he’s up to?”
    Dirk just grunted.
    “Don’t you have a feeling that this trip is more than just a convention for him? After all, he’s staying even though the seminar’s over. Why’s that?”
    Dirk shrugged. “It’s Vegas, for heaven’s sake. Maybe he just wants to do some gambling, go to some strip clubs, see some shows.”
    “Then why’s he still staying here, out in the boonies, away from all the action?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, maybe if we follow him around a bit, we’ll find out.”
    “You mean, follow the bimbo and your brother while they follow him.”
    “We can’t all four follow him at the same time in one big ol’ lump. That’d be a bit obvious, don’t you think? Duh.”
    “Oh, wow! Do you see that? He’s picking up one of those brochures over