Cooked Goose

when they were through with it,” he continued, “so we don’t have any prints to go on.”
    She was determined to find the proverbial glass half full or at least not bone dry. “That tells us something,” she offered. “What? That his attacker has good housekeeping skills?“
    “Maybe. But mostly, it tells us that Titus was inside the car, bleeding, and whoever shot him must have been with him in the car, probably drove him here, took him out of the car and wiped everything down.”
    “Then where’s his body? If they dumped him here, where the hell’s the corpse?”
    “If it was lying on the jetty rocks, like the caller said, it may have been washed away before we got here. There was a high tide last night.”
    “There’s a happy thought; we may never know what happened to him, let alone who did it.”
    She draped one arm across his broad shoulders. “Buck up, babycakes. It ain’t over yet.”
    She heard footsteps on the pier’s wooden planks, coming toward them. When she turned to see who their visitor might be, some of her depression turned to irritation. Captain Harvey Bloss. Just who she needed to see right now.
    He had shown up a couple of times during the night to annoy the searchers, pretending to be in charge, but getting in the way. Each time, Savannah had ducked out of sight, rather than risk another confrontation. She didn’t want to fight; she was too tired to be feisty.
    “It’s El Capitan Muy Loco. Whoopy-do. Want me to just go ahead and jump?” she asked, pointing to the water that splashed against the barnacle-encrusted pilings below. “Now might be a good time to find out if drowning’s a nice or crummy way to go.”
    “Naw. Stick around. If he gives you any guff, he’ll be the one going for a dip. I’m not in the mood to put up with his b.s. right now.”
    Dirk looked like he might actually welcome a verbal clash. When he was that tired and discouraged, he didn’t always use the best judgment—unlike Savannah who didn’t have to be tired or discouraged to abandon good judgment.
    “Don’t get on Bloss’s bad side,” Savannah warned him. “Believe me, having been there myself, I can vouch for the fact that it’s not a place you want to be.”
    “I thought I told you to stay away from crime scenes, Reid,” Bloss said, dispensing with his usual unpleasantries.
    “What crime scene?” She donned her most irritating pseudo-innocent face for his benefit. “This is a city pier. The only things murdered here are some red snappers and worms.”
    “Are you telling me you weren’t running around down there?”
    Dirk stirred, as though about to jump into the conversation, but Savannah squeezed his forearm. “Am I telling you that, Captain? No. I’m not telling you that... or anything else, for that matter. As far as I’m concerned, you and I aren’t speaking.”
    “Actually, we are speaking. We have some business to discuss. Privately.”
    He gave Dirk a dismissive nod, which clearly irked the beck out of him. Dirk turned to Savannah . “Van?”
    “Sure. No problem,” Savannah said, looking up and down bloss’s less-than-impressive physique with contempt. “If push comes to shove, I can take ‘im. He’ll be the one going over the edge.”
    Once Dirk was out of earshot, she asked Bloss, “Business? What kind of business?”
    “Actually, it’s more of a favor.” He looked like he was about to choke on his own spit.
    “A favor? You’re going to ask me for a favor? How fun! get to tell you to go hell in a handbasket! Go ahead, ask. I can’t wait.”
    “I want you to let Margie stay at your house for a few days, until this case is resolved. I’m concerned for her safety, and I think she’d be better off there than the hotel.”
    “Oh.” Her emotional hot air balloon came tumbling to earth. She would do it. She had to. But she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “So, tell me why I should do anything for you?”
    “Not for me. For Margie.” His patience was on a very short leash and it quickly reached its end. “Don’t bust my balls about this, Reid. Believe me, it’s not my idea. It’s hers. For some reason, which I can’t understand, she likes you. She’s throwing a fit to stay with you.”
    “Tell me the truth about something.”
    “What?” He looked unhappy, uncomfortable. Briefly, she wondered why.
    “Is she in danger? Do you know something I don’t?“
    “She was kidnapped and—”
    “I know. But she got away. Do you have