Cooked Goose

kids out to You,” she told him, releasing his sleeve. “And I’ll ask Vidalia if she wants to receive a nice, quiet talkin’ from you.”
    Savannah walked into the living room and told the half-asleep children in Margie’s lap that someone wanted to see them in the hall. Then she walked over to her snoring sister sprawled in her easy chair.
    “Vi,” she said, shaking her arm. “Vidalia, wake up.“
    “Huh? Wh-... what?” The dead stirred to life.
    “I’m sorry to wake you, but it seems your husband has driven all the way from Georgia , and he wants to talk to you.’’ She came wide awake. “Butch? Where?”
    “He’s in my front hall. I sent the kids out to him. But he wants to speak to you, swears he’ll be calm.”
    Vidalia sat up straight and wiped the sleep spittle from the corner of her mouth. “You tell that sonofabitch that he can go straight to hell. He and me ain’t talkin’.”
    Savannah stood there for a long moment, weighing the situation. She glanced at Margie and saw the sympathy in her eyes. Over the years, Savannah had done a lot for her siblings... probably way too much. They needed to be weaned and there was no time like the present.
    “Tell me something,” she said to her younger sister, who had already settled back down in the chair.
    “What?”
    “In all the time the two of you have been together, has Butch ever hit you?”
    “Hit me? No, of course not.”
    “Not even a little bitty smack on the jaws?”
    She laughed. “Are you crazy? He knows if he ever raised a hand to me, I’d stomp a mud hole in him.”
    “Okay, then that stuff about telling him to go to hell…“
    “What about it?”
    “You tell him yourself. I’m stayin’ out of it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

    December 19 — 10:54 a.m.

    “ I ’m sure there must be a good reason why you would ask line to leave my loving home and spend my morning slumming with you,” Savannah told Dirk as he drove her into the valley at the east end of town... not by any means the high rent district.
    “I did it for you,” he said proudly. “I took one look at you last night, after your sister and her old man had their run-in and knew you needed to get out of there.”
    He turned the corner and headed into the worst of the worst section. Every wall was covered with graffiti, every yard was littered with brokendown vehicles. Sagging porches supported old sofas and chairs that were bristling with rusty springs.
    “Great neighborhood,” Savannah said. “A German Shepherd would be afraid to walk these streets after dark without a pit bull on a leash. Why are we here? Is there a new donut shop opening and they’re giving away samples?”
    Dirk shot her an indignant look. “You’re a bitter, cynical woman, Reid. And suspicious. Did I mention suspicious?“
    “Wherever we’re going, we’re probably just about there. Now why don’t you tell me what you want me to do?”
    “Will you do it?”
    “Don’t I always?”
    He laughed. “You can’t help yourself, Van. You’re just a sucker for my pretty face.”
    “There must be a reason, but I’m sure that ain’t it. What am I doing for you this time?”
    Pulling the Buick over to the side of the road near a transmission-repair garage, he said, “I’ve got a lead and I think—you bein’ a chick and all—that you’d be better at gettin’ the information outta her than me.”
    “It’s a ‘her.’ Ah, that says a lot.”
    “What do you mean? Are you sayin’ I’m not good with women?”
    Savannah raised one eyebrow and grinned at him. “Do you think you are?”
    He shrugged. “Not particularly. But then, I’m not all that good with guys either, so...”
    “Does this female lead of yours work at this transmission place?”
    “No. She lives up the street.” He pointed to some ram’ shackle apartments ahead on the corner. “She works at Ricky’s, that new topless joint in Two Trees. She’s a stripper, and from what I hear, DeCianni was seeing her for the past few months.’
    “He was seeing more of her than the average customer at Ricky’s got to see?”
    “Apparently so. And I hear the two of them weren’t gettin’ along so good lately. Had a big fight a few days before he got it.”
    “You want me to just go in straight, as a P.I.?”
    He laughed. “Well, of course. I wouldn’t suggest you lie, or anything like that.”
    “Right. Or if she isn’t home, you wouldn’t want me to break in and check things out.”
    “Of course not. But if you