Cereal Killer

me.” She quickly recovered when they rounded a curve in the path and saw the pool area spread before them.
    Cabana suites bordered the far end of the oval pool—a vision of cool marine blue, accented with stained-glass tiles around its edge that formed a Greek key pattern of white and cobalt blue.
    Small round tables, seating four, spotted the patio, and the guests were staking their claims on the most scenic locations.
    An enormous buffet had been spread in the center of the patio, and Savannah and Ryan found Tammy and John there, scooping seafood delicacies onto their plates while chatting happily about their surroundings.
    “Looks like they’re getting along fine,” Ryan remarked when Tammy reached over to plant a kiss on John’s cheek.
    “That was pretty predictable,” Savannah replied. “Tammy’s a sweetie, and John is an amazing man.
    “Yes, he is. I’m fortunate to have him in my life.”
    “I’d say you’re both pretty darned lucky. Do either you or John have any straight brothers?”
    ‘Yes, we do. But they’re married and have kids, dogs, cats, the whole domestic scene.”
    “Figures. Let’s go tackle that buffet before Tammy snarfs up all the shrimp.”
    Five minutes later, the four of them were sitting at one of the poolside tables, their plates piled high with broiled lobster tails, butterfly shrimp, baked clams, and six varieties of caviar. They munched happily as they listened to a doo-wop quartet in mauve jackets with black shirts and white ties, who were strolling among the guests singing “Runaround Sue.”
    “Ah... I could get used to this,” Tammy said with a sigh of satisfaction as she sipped her champagne cocktail.
    “Don’t,” Savannah replied. “We’re all turning into pumpkins at midnight. At least we girls will. And tomorrow it’s back to bologna and cheese sandwiches. Or in your case, yogurt and vegetable sticks.”
    “Try to burst my bubble, if you want to, but this party is just too awesome.” Holding up her champagne flute, Tammy watched the lines of effervescence trickle up the glass.
    “It’s time to discuss our plan of action for the evening,” Savannah said, lowering her voice and leaning closer to the others.
    “Did you bring those two recorders?” Ryan asked. “What plan of action? What recorders?” Suddenly, Tammy—the party animal—was all business.
    “The mini-recorders I have in my purse,” Savannah told her, “courtesy of our escorts.”
    “Hopefully, they’ll work better than those stupid things Dirk loans us. Half of the time they don’t even work, and when they do, you can’t make out what’s being said.”
    “Not to worry, dear,” John said. “These little beauties are state of the art Voice activated with excellent pickup. If two mosquitoes have a conversation anywhere in their vicinity, we’ll be able to hear every word.”
    “Where are you going to put them?” Tammy asked. Savannah reached over and snatched a shrimp off Tammy’s plate. “Ryan says that Charles Wentworth frequently holds little private meetings in the library during these parties.”
    “Yes. He does.” Ryan took a sip of his martini. “Our host can’t decide which he wants to be when he grows up, Vito Corleone or Jay Gatsby.”
    “How old is he?” Tammy asked.
    “Late forties, early fifties,” Ryan replied.
    “Then I’d say it’s about time to nail that down.” Tammy slapped Savannah’s hand away from her plate. “So we bug the library with one of the recorders. Where do we put the other one?”
    “Ryan and I will take care of the library,” Savannah said. “Why don’t you and John carry the other one around until you find a good spot or until an opportunity presents itself?”
    “John and I are going to be busy dancing,” Tammy said, gazing at her companion with starry-eyed infatuation.
    John laughed, slipped his hand under the table, and nudged Savannah’s knee. “Give your recorder to me, Savannah,” he said. “The Bureau trained me well. I can tango, plant listening devices, and juggle swords at the same time.”
    Savannah slipped him the recorder, and he placed it in his tuxedo jacket pocket.
    Then he turned to Tammy and extended his hand.
    “I believe I hear the band tuning up in the great room. Shall we?”
    Tammy lifted her nose a notch, flipped back her long blond hair, and delicately laid her hand atop his. “We shall.”
    “Oh, Lord help us,” Savannah said as she and Ryan watched them walk away. “He’s