Corpse Suzette

passive redhead?”
    The guys at the table
laughed heartily. “She’s got you there, Savannah,” Ryan said. “I have to admit
that every redhead I’ve known could be classified as feisty, to say the least.”
    “Absolutely,” John agreed.
“And here’s to feisty redheads! May they rule the world!”
    “I think we already do,”
Abby replied.
    “To Queen Abigail,” Tammy
said, lifting her glass. “Long may she reign!”
    “Here, here!” John raised
his own glass and they clinked all around.
    “And now,” Abby said, “if
you two could solve this murder case, we’d have even more reason to celebrate.”
    “Oh, talk about popping
somebody’s bubble.” Savannah visibly deflated. “You had to bring that up?”
    “Yeah, really,” Tammy
added. “Just when we’re celebrating your ‘coming out’ you have to remind me of
my wasted hours, sitting there, messing with that stupid computer.”
    Ryan leaned closer to Tammy
and lowered his voice, “Actually, we brought you a little present tonight to
help you with that.”
    Tammy’s eyes lit up.
“Really?”
    “Oh yeah. You’re going to
love us after you see this.”
    “I already love you.”
    “Okay, then we’ll be
adored. I borrowed a little something for you from a friend of ours at the
Bureau.”
    “The FBI?” Abigail said,
instantly all ears.
    “Sh-h-h,” Ryan replied,
giving her a discreet nod.
    “What is it?”
    “Software,” John said.
“Forensic software.”
    Ryan pulled a square
envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table to Tammy. “You use that,
you’re going to be able to find everything in that computer... even the stuff
your poor, dead buddy thought he had deleted.”
    “Really?”
    “Would I lie to one of my
girls?”
    “Sweet!” Tammy clutched the
envelope to her chest, a look of pure rapture on her face. “Oh, this is so-o-oo
sweet!”
    “Speaking of sweets,”
Savannah said, eyeing an overladen dessert tray that was passing her by. “I
think we should all have crêpes suzette tonight. It just seems appropriate
somehow.”

Chapter

16
     
     
     
    “I sn’t there a song that
says, ‘It never rains in California’?” Abigail asked as they all stood huddled
in a sodden lump, trying to ignore the fact that their umbrellas weren’t doing
a bit of good. Umbrellas only worked when the rain was falling vertically.
Thanks to an unseasonable and particularly fierce, onshore storm, the
horizontal precipitation was drenching everyone present and making them
generally miserable.
    But it was the perfect
setting for a funeral.
    Savannah, Tammy, and Dirk
had insisted on being present when the mortal remains of one Leonard Roy
Hoffman of Bakersfield, California, aka Sergio D’Alessandro, were laid to rest.
    Abigail had come along
because she didn’t want to sit at home alone. And not even the previous day’s
Emerge experience was going to lift her dampened spirits as she stood there in
the cemetery in the pouring rain, shivering with the other mourners.
    “Sh-h-h-h, it’ll be over
soon,” Savannah admonished her, seeing a couple of heads turn their way at the
sound of Abby’s complaining.
    She, too, wanted nothing
more than to go home, peel off the cold, wet clothes, and get into a warm robe.
But she wasn’t there just to pay her respects. Especially since she had
precious little respect for ol’ Sergio. She was working.
    She, Tammy, and Dirk were
all working, as they scanned the faces of the crowd and accounted for everyone.
    It was commonly known among
the members of law enforcement that murderers were frequently nearby after a
killing, hanging about the crime scene, helping with a search if one was
conducted, and attending funerals.
    What was the fun of causing
a horrific hullabaloo if you couldn’t be around to appreciate it and watch its
effect on others?
    So the Moonlight Magnolia
team was at the funeral in full force, studying the attendees and the
interactions between them, looking for anything out of the ordinary or
suspicious.
    Savannah squinted against
the cold, driving rain, shivering, listening to the minister go on and on about
how loved Leonard had been, such a fine son, a dear friend, an accomplished
businessman, and what a contribution he had made to his community. The
clergyman made ol’ Sergio sound like a real peach.
    Savannah wondered if the
preacher had ever met him.
    The coffin was suspended
over the freshly dug grave on straps, waiting to be lowered. A temporary
pavilion had