Cereal Killer

is paperwork when I’d rather be fishing.”
    “Or hanging out with me if the pier’s closed.”
    He gave her a sideways grin. “Yeah, or hanging with you.”
    From the other side of the park, they could hear the blond yell, “See if I ever buy anything from you again, you asshole!”
    The black man slowly turned back toward him. “Huh-oh,” Savannah said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about...”
    “What’s the matter, you cantly-ass pimp?” the blond continued. “Did that crack-whore mamma of yours use up all of your stash? Is that why you’re out sellin’ macadamia nuts instead of the real thing, huh?”
    Dirk sighed. “Eh, shit.”
    Savannah nodded. ‘Yep.”
    Less than four seconds later, Dirk’s least favorite confidential informant was on the ground, getting the daylights pummeled out of him by an angry dope dealer who didn’t seem to mind at all that a police detective was casually making his way toward him across the park lawn.
    Savannah strolled along beside Dirk, her arm laced companionably through his. They looked like a couple of old folks taking their daily constitutional as a few yards away fists flew, along with colorful curses, bits of spit, some handfuls of hair, and finally... a bloody tooth.
    “I’ll help you fill out the fives,” she told Dirk in her best consoling voice. “You just dictate and I’ll type.”
    “You’re damned right you will,” he replied. “It was your idea to have lunch in this friggin’ park instead of the safe, trouble-free confines of my car. You owe me, girl.”
     
    Sitting in her cushy, wing-back chair with its cabbage rose-print chintz, her feet propped on the matching ottoman and warmed by two black cats, one on each side, Savannah was at peace with the world. Or at least, she would have been except for the pile of past-due bills in her lap that needed attention. Unfortunately, they needed more than just her attention; they needed paying. The creditors had already sent the polite green and yellow versions. But more than one of these not-so-friendly reminders bore threats in bold red ink and the occasional exclamation mark—all designed to strike terror in the heart of the delinquent bill-payer.
    But Savannah wasn’t terrified. When sitting in her favorite chair, feet warmed by purring, sleeping cats, the most she could muster in the way of negative feelings was mild depression and a modicum of embarrassment. Someday this private investigation business of hers would start to pay off. Someday. Some way. Somewhere... over the rainbow.
    Looking across her living room, she watched as Tammy Hart, her friend, assistant, and crime detection protégée sat studiously at the computer on the rolltop desk in the corner and surfed the Internet. Tammy seemed to think that if she searched long and hard enough, she would eventually find some jobs for the Moonlight Magnolia Detective Agency.
    Not knowing diddly-squat about the Internet, Savannah had her doubts that Tammy’s efforts would pan out, but if the kid wanted to look, she was welcome to it Long ago, Savannah had realized that Tammy didn’t hang around for the occasional moneys Savannah was able to shuffle her way. Like Savannah, Tammy truly enjoyed the work, when it came along. Tracking down missing kids, locating long-lost loved ones, and occasionally getting to nab a really bad guy made the dry times worth it.
    Besides the joys of nailing a bad boy, and occasionally a bad girl, the two women had something else in common—an unexpected friendship. Unexpected because they couldn’t have been more different.
    Ten years younger than Savannah, Tammy was a California golden girl, with sun-bleached, long blond hair and lean, tanned limbs. She was also a computer whiz and a rabid health nut.
    On the other hand, Savannah had dark curly hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion and was both technologically and dietetically challenged. Savannah’s definition of a megabyte was a mouthful of See’s cantly or a Mrs. Fields cookie. As a result, her limbs weren’t particularly lean... or any other part of her for that matter.
    Once, years ago, she had hated Tammy for wearing a size zero and a half. But Savannah had come to terms with her own overly voluptuous body and now only hated Tammy occasionally... like when they were trying on clothes in the Victoria’s Secret dressing rooms.
    “So, Dirko’s coming over tonight, huh?” Tammy asked without turning away from her screen.
    “Sure he is. There’s a