Cereal Killer

it, too. “I wouldn’t,” she told him. “They’re going to be asking you a lot of questions in the next few hours, and you’ll want to have your wits about you.”
    She felt his arm tense, and for a moment she thought he was going to shove her hand away, but then he seemed to reconsider and set the glass on the counter.
    “Yes, you’re right,” he said. “Although I don’t have much to tell them. She finally killed herself. I knew she was going to do it. I’ve seen it coming for more than a year now, and I couldn’t stop it.”
    Outside, Savannah heard a vehicle pull into the driveway, then another. The Crime Scene Unit had arrived. Maybe Dr. Liu, the county coroner, too.
    She took the husband’s arm again and nudged him toward the dining room and the doors leading to the patio. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go outside and sit down. We can talk out there while... while they do what they have to in here.”
    More times than she cared to remember, Savannah had been with the next of kin when a loved one’s body was carried out of the house on a gurney, face covered. It was a horrible moment, every time, no matter what the circumstances.
    She didn’t know if she could spare Kevin Connor that heart-wounding memory. But it was worth a try.
     

Chapter
    3
     
    T his time Kevin Connor seemed more steady on his feet as he walked from the kitchen to the patio. Apparently the Scotch had hit his bloodstream and was doing its job. He wasn’t shaking as much either, she noticed, as they stepped outside and walked over to the umbrella-covered patio table where he had been sitting earlier.
    “Are you a police officer?” he asked, settling into one of the chairs at the glass and wrought iron table.
    Savannah sat across from him and subconsciously switched into “evaluation” mode as she studied him. “No,” she replied. “I was. Now I’m a private investigator.”
    “Then why are you here?”
    She searched his face to see if his question was a complaint, but she saw only a vague curiosity in his dark eyes that were red and swollen from crying.
    “When I was with the SCPD, I was Detective Coulter’s partner. Sometimes he still invites me along on his cases. And I’m”—she couldn’t bring herself to say “was”—“a fan of your wife’s.”
    “Cait had a lot of fans.” He stared down at his hands that were tightly clasped before him on the table, and he began to cry softly again. “They’re going to be heart- , broken when they hear this.”
    Savannah gave him a couple of moments to compose himself; then she spoke, choosing her words as carefully as she could. “I have to say, I’m surprised that Caitlin would put herself through something like this... a rigorous, dangerous weight-loss program. She was so vocal about self-acceptance and sensible weight management.”
    “Yes, but that was before she got herself roped into this cereal contract. We needed the money, and her agent pressured her, and then the ad agency was breathing down her neck. They’d based this big campaign on Cait and a couple of other models losing a ridiculous amount of weight in only a few weeks by eating their stupid cereal.”
    He shook his head and rubbed his hands wearily over his face. “If I’d only known ahead of time, if I’d seen the contract before she’d signed it, I never would’ve let her. It even said that if she didn’t drop the weight in time, they would sue her for part of the cost of the promotion. She would have been ruined, and she’s worked so hard for so long to get to where she is... or was.” Again he collapsed in sobs. “I just can’t believe she’s gone.”
    Savannah reached across the table and placed her hand on his forearm. “I know,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”
    “I don’t think she had eaten anything for days,” he said. “She told me she was eating, even showed me the empty food containers in the garbage. But last night I caught her putting her dinner down the garbage disposal when she thought I was in the Jacuzzi. And I know she was using laxatives and diuretics again.”
    “Again? Did she have an eating disorder?”
    “Sure she did. She battled it for ages. But she had it under control for the past three years. She didn’t fall off the wagon until this damned ad campaign.”
    “I noticed that she was wearing a vapor-impermeable suit. Was she exercising vigorously?”
    “Night and day, trying to get ready for tomorrow’s weigh-in at the doctor’s