Cereal Killer

if this was her address, as the Department of Motor Vehicles said it was, her vehicle was part of a façade... along with her upturned nose.
    Savannah parked near the Lexus, got out, and walked up to the house. On the warped, tilting front porch sat a half-rotten sofa, whose cushions were sprouting tufts of yellowed stuffing. And long before she got to the door, the smell of stale alcohol caused Savannah to breathe shallowly.
    Rapping on the rusty screen door, she called out, “Desiree? Yoo-hoo, Desiree?”
    The wooden door was open, but the inside of the house was so dark and the screen so dirty that she couldn’t see in. At first, she thought no one was home, but then she heard a shuffling and some mumbled objections as someone came toward her.
    “What? Who is it?” asked a grumpy voice that Savannah recognized, even though it wasn’t laced with the heavy French accent
    When the door finally opened and the woman stuck her head outside, Savannah couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. If she had passed this person on a city street, she never would have recognized her as the attractive woman who had been the star of the photo shoot.
    The short, sassy curls had disappeared, and her hair fell in lank, oily strands. Her complexion looked more sallow than fair, and dark smudges of mascara ringed her eyes. The shapeless gray sweatsuit she wore hung on her body, making her look much heavier than she was, and the front of the shirt was stained with coffee spills.
    She squinted against the sunlight as she peered at Savannah. At first she looked confused, but upon recognizing Savannah, her expression quickly changed to one of annoyance.
    “What do you want?” she said. “I don’t have time for visitors right now. I’m busy.”
    “So am I,” Savannah replied smoothly. “I’m working. And right now my job is talking to you.”
    Desiree shook her head. “What?”
    “Actually, my name is Savannah, not Susan, and I’m not a model...” Savannah began.
    “Oh, really?” She gave an unpleasant snort “Gee, I never would’ve guessed.”
    Savannah continued, undeterred. “I’m a private investigator, and I’m looking into these unfortunate deaths... and, of course, Tesla’s disappearance.”
    “Have they found her yet?”
    “Not yet.”
    “They probably won’t either. Not alive, anyway.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    Desiree went from “barely even concerned” to “acutely alert” in two seconds. “No reason,” she said defensively. “I just figure she’s probably dead, considering that she’s missing and because of what happened to Cait and Kameeka.”
    She might be a slob when she's off duty, Savannah thought, but she's no mental slouch. Desiree La Port was cunning and clever in a street-smart sort of way. There was an animal wariness in her eyes that Savannah had seen many times in hardened criminals.
    Desiree stepped outside, letting the door slam behind her, then walked over and sat down on the old, dirty sofa. Curling one foot under her, she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
    “Can you think of anyone who would want to see those girls dead?” Savannah asked, glad that—at least for the moment—Desiree seemed willing to talk.
    Lighting her cigarette and taking a long drag, she said, “Yeah, I guess a lot of people would want to see them gone.”
    “Why?”
    “They’re at the top of their game. Being at the top is dangerous. Isn’t it?”
    Savannah studied her carefully to see if she was serious. She was. “I suppose it might be dangerous, careerwise,” Savannah said. “But it shouldn’t be life-threatening.”
    ‘You just never know.” She released twin streams of smoke from her nostrils. “And then there’s Leah and Kevin.”
    “What about Leah and Kevin?”
    “They were both about to get dumped. Nobody likes to get dumped.”
    “Dumped? How?”
    “All three of those girls were going to leave Leah and go to another agency. They told her so a couple of days before Cait died.”
    Okay, Savannah thought, that validates what Kevin said. And speaking of Kevin...
    “How was Kevin about to get dumped?”
    “Cait found out about his new girlfriend, and she told him it was over unless he ended the affair, once and for all.”
    “But wasn’t she seeing someone on the side, too? I thought they had an open marriage.”
    Desiree gave a derisive sniff. ‘Yeah, right. Kevin liked to call it that so he could justify his messing around. Cait