Corpse Suzette

wearing a lovely white cotton
nightgown with tiny pink roses embroidered on the bodice and lace trimming the
sleeve edges.
    “What a pretty nightgown,”
she commented. “It looks Victorian.”
    “I bought it yesterday when
the Emerge staff took me shopping. Jeremy says I should allow the feminine side
of my nature to have expression as well as all other sides. I saw this gown and
loved it, although, without his encouragement, I never would have allowed
myself to wear anything like this.”
    “It’s most becoming. A good
change from the sweatpants.”
    “The kitties like it,” Abby
said, hugging the cats to her chest. Savannah half expected them to jump up and
run away from her. Like her, they couldn’t stand any form of restraint. She
blamed it on having handcuffed so many people over the years and maybe feeling
a bit guilty about some of them. Not a lot. Just a few.
    But the cats stayed put.
And Cleo even reached up and gave Abby a slurp with a wet, kitty sandpaper
tongue on the left ear.
    “They like you, is
more like it,” Savannah said. “What did you do? Feed them tuna from a can?”
    “Half and half, from the
fridge.”
    “Oh, no wonder.”
    “And I gave Cleo her
methimazole tonight. I figured you’d be too tired to mess with it.”
    “You gave Cleo a pill...
and you lived to tell about it? Boy, now I am impressed! Any bleeding
involved?”
    “Nope. I’m unscathed.” She
held up both hands, turning them this way and that for inspection.
    Savannah smiled and wasn’t
all that shocked when Abigail returned it. Abby grew on you. Once you got past
that extremely thick crust, there was a sweet woman underneath. Way underneath.
    “If you’re sure I can’t
talk you into trading places,” Savannah said, “I think I’ll go check on Dirk
and then hit the sack myself.”
    “I’m sure. Good night.”
    Savannah stood, kissed the
tip of her forefinger, then reached down and touched it to Abby’s forehead.
“Sleep tight, kiddo,” she said.
    “You, too.”
    Savannah started up the
stairs and for the first time since she could ever remember, the cats didn’t
follow her.
    They say kids and animals
can tell a good person from a bad one, she thought. I guess Miss Abby’s a
goodie after all.
    She crept into her own
bedroom and saw that, just as Abby had said, Dirk hadn’t moved a hair. He was
still under her silk sheet and satin comforter, only his head sticking out,
snoring like a buzz saw.
    Softly she pressed her hand
to his forehead. It was cool and dry. A good sign.
    She repeated the kiss to
her fingertip and placed it on his cheek. To her surprise, he turned his face
against her hand and for a moment pressed his lips into her palm.
    “Thanks, Van,” he
whispered.
    “You’re welcome, darlin’,”
she replied. “Go back to sleep. Feel better.”
    He nodded and ten seconds
later resumed his snoring.
    Cowboy Dirk Coulter was a
tough-hided buzzard. He’d survive that gunshot/rattlesnake bite/Indian arrow
attack/buffalo stampede, after all.
    Yeap, it took a whole lot
more than that to kill an old gunslinger/lawman like Coulter.
     
    The next morning, Savannah
was enjoying some of her favorite activities, sitting in her easy chair,
sipping a cup of coffee and nibbling a pastry, watching while Tammy worked away
at the desk in the corner and Abigail snoozed, head covered with her pillow, on
the sofa.
    Life just didn’t get much
better than that.
    If there was anything more
pleasant than enjoying one of the seven deadly sins at a time, it was doubling
up. And Savannah had found that Gluttony and Sloth went particularly well
together... sort of like a cinnamon pecan Danish and Sumatra dark roast.
    And just when she thought
things couldn’t get any better, Dirk came downstairs. He practically bounced
downstairs. And Savannah hadn’t seen Dirk bounce since 1993, when they had
busted the guy who had broken into his house trailer and stolen his eight-track
tape player and his Johnny Cash collection. “Wow,” she said, “look at you!
You’re pert nigh perky!”
    His hair was standing on
end and his eyes a bit puffy, but he had a definite spring to his step and a
smile on his face. “I feel great!” he said. “That thing John whipped up for me
last night did the trick! I swear, it really is the cure for the common cold.”
'Tammy glanced up from her work, looked him up and down, and said, “I think we
should make you one of those hot toddy thingies every night, Dirko. You look
almost