Death by Chocolate

golden
girl... I guess I’m not a big fan of your cooking. But as talented and
beautiful as you are, who needs to cook, too.”
    “Good save.” She picked up
the mug from the tray and held it out to Savannah. “Here, this will fix
whatever ails you.”
    Savannah lifted one
eyebrow. “What is it? Not essence of octopus, or ginseng wheat-grass juice,
right?”
    “Oh, stop. It’s a hot
toddy. Dirk made it for you. And since he was raiding your liquor cabinet to
make it, I’m sure he was generous with the booze.”
    Savannah took the mug and
peeked inside. A slice of fresh orange and another one of lemon floated on the
top, studded with whole cloves. The citrus-scented steam filled her stuffy
nasal passages with the promise of good Irish whiskey.
    She took a drink, held it
in her mouth for a moment to savor the spices, and then swallowed. It flowed
through her like warm, liquid flame, soothing as it went.
    “Ah, that’s too good. And
you’re right; he didn’t spare the booze.”
    “I’ve heard that a good
Irish toddy will cure a cold in twelve hours.”
    “I don’t know if it will cure
it, but a few sips and you won’t mind being sick half so much.”
    Diamante jumped into
Savannah’s lap and began rubbing her face against the front of her robe.
Cleopatra joined her, vying for attention.
    Savannah looked around.
“Where is Dirk, anyway? I thought he’d still be here when I got out of the
tub.”
    “No, he left as soon as you
went into the bathroom.” All of a sudden, Tammy wasn’t looking her in the eye.
That wasn’t a good sign.
    Savannah took another swig
of the toddy. She had a feeling she was going to need it. “Where did he go?”
Tammy reached over and petted Cleopatra, buying time before she finally said,
“Ah, you know... back.”
    “Back? You mean to
Eleanor’s place?”
    “Mmmm... yeah.”
    Savannah glanced at her
mantel clock. “It’s almost two A.M. Why is he going back there now?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe he
left something. You know how Dirk is. He’d forget his head if it weren’t
attached.” Savannah stared at her, then nudged her with her elbow. “Spill it,
kid. What exactly did he say he was going back there for?”
    Tammy shrugged and cleared
her throat. “He might have said something about finishing up.... processing the
scene.”
    “Processing? Is he going
back with the Crime Scene Unit?”
    “I think they might already
be there. I think they might have got there right after we left.”
    “Oh, you think so, huh?”
    Savannah set her mug back
on the tray and brushed the cats off her lap. “He does think it’s a murder
scene. He thinks somebody killed her somehow or he wouldn’t be treating the
place like a crime scene.”
    “He’s just being thorough.
You know, erring on the side of caution and all that.”
    “Bullshit. Dirk doesn’t err
at two in the morning. He’s a hardworking cop, but he’s not that conscientious
unless he’s got strong suspicions. I’ve gotta go back there. And you have to
drive me.”
    Savannah stood and headed
for the stairs. But the effects of the long, traumatic day, the hot bath, and
Dirk’s toddy hit her legs, and she had to grab the banister to keep her
balance.
    Tammy hurried to her and
offered a shoulder to lean on. “You aren’t going anywhere, young lady,” she
said, “except straight to bed. Dirk told me not to tell you he was going back,
because he knew what you’d do. And he told me that if you showed up there, he
was going to hold me personally responsible.”
    “I should help him process
that scene. It was my responsibility and.... ah-h-h-chew!”
    “Go.” Tammy pushed her from
behind. “Up the stairs and into bed right now.”
    Savannah wanted to resist,
but it was a clear case of the spirit being willing and the flesh being weak.
“All right,” she said, “but only because you called me a young lady. And only
if you’ll bring me the rest of that toddy.” ‘You got it. I’ll tell Dirk that
you took three sips and were dead to the world. He’ll be so proud.”
    Obediently, Savannah
trudged up the stairs, her friend right behind her. ‘Yes, Dirk is easily
impressed.” Tammy nodded. “Especially with himself.”

Chapter

7
     
     
     
    A s Savannah drove to the San
Carmelita police station the next morning, she experienced one of those brief
but precious moments when she was truly grateful to be alive. The foothill road
that she took from her house to die station passed a number of orange and