Corpse Suzette

took down a glass. “I’m going to take this out to Abigail. How
much do you want to bet that she’ll find some reason to bite my head off
again?”
    “Has she always been this
crabby?”
    Tammy thought for a moment,
then nodded. “Yeap. Ever since I can remember.”
    “Then why did you
set this up?”
    A sad look crossed her
face. “I’ve always felt sorry for Abby.”
    “Because she was a heavy
kid?”
    “No. I mean, she was, but I
didn’t feel sorry for her because of that. I was superskinny, and I got teased,
too. When you’re a kid you’re always either too much this or not enough that. I
felt sorry for her because of her parents. My mom is her dad’s sister. But
they’re very different. My parents are great, but Abby got the crummy ones. Her
dad was never around, never paid her any attention, like my dad did me. And her
mom wasn’t there for her either.” Tammy looked out at the woman on the chaise
lounge and a kind of understanding dawned on her face. “In fact, all I remember
my Aunt Betty ever doing was lying around, reading books and magazines. I guess
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and all that.”
    “Guess not. Anyway, I still
think it was sweet of you to set this up for her, whether she understands and
appreciates your motives or not.”
    “Thanks. Wish me luck.”
    “Good luck. Take the knife
with you in case things get ugly.” Tammy snickered, grabbed the pitcher and
glass, and headed outside.
    Savannah looked down at the
black cat, who was doing figure eights around and between her ankles. “It isn’t
dinnertime yet, so don’t even start with me,” she told her. “Cleo, go bite your
sister or whatever. If you trip me again, I swear I’ll—”
    The front doorbell rang,
and she hurried to answer it, nearly stepping on the cat’s tail in the process.
    It was Dirk. And he had his
cop face firmly in place.
    “I gotta talk to you and
that Abigail What’s-Her-Name, too,” he announced without the preamble of a “hi”
or “how do you do?”
    “Nice to see you, too,” she
said, opening the door wider and ushering him inside. “What’s up?”
    “Not a lot on my end.
That’s why I want to know what you and that Sergio dude had to say at your
lunch.”
    She followed him into the
living room. He plopped himself on the sofa, and she sat in her easy chair. He
looked tired. Dirk frequently worked around the clock on a murder
investigation. And this was as close to a homicide as you got without a body,
so she wasn’t surprised that he was tired and cranky.
    She also wasn’t impressed
with his cranky self. “Mr. D’Alessandro is now my client,” she said, grinning
at his scowl. “You know that what I discuss with my clients is confidential.”
    “Since when?”
    “Since he promised me a big
ol’ bundle of bucks if I find her before you do.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeap.”
    “Why would he do that?”
    “Maybe because she
absconded with a ton of his money. Or maybe not, I’m not at liberty to say.”
    He sniffed. “Good thing
you’re so discreet.”
    “Ain’t I though?”
    “Did he give you any good
leads about where you might start looking for her?”
    “Nope. But he gave me the
keys to her house and permission to search it thoroughly, no warrant needed or
any of that messy legal stuff.”
    “It’s her house, not his. Where does he get off giving you permission to search her
property?”
    “Don’t know, don’t care too
much. I’m not planning to hoist any flags up the pole announcing I’m there...
when I do my searching, that is.”
    “In the dead of night.”
    “You betcha.”
    “You gonna start tonight?”
    “Just waiting for the sun
to set and the moon to rise. You want something to eat or drink?”
    “No. I want a lead on where
this gal is. The captain threw me a real homicide, a drive-by over in the east
end. Some druggie’s momma got herself shot, sitting and watching TV, eating a
pizza and minding her own business.”
    “You figure they were
gunning for him and got Mom instead.”
    “Ain’t that just the way it
always happens. Some innocent kid sitting on a porch, behaving themselves, some
guy walking with his baby down to the corner store for a quart of milk. And
then, blammo. Anyway, I don’t have time to mess with this Du Bois thing,
when we don’t even know for sure if it’s foul play or her taking an unscheduled
trip to Vegas.”
    Savannah studied her old
friend and noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how he