Death by Chocolate

anything to do
with Louise?” Savannah asked, taking a stab in the dark.
    She had hit a bull’s-eye.
Elizabeth’s face flushed with anger at the memory. “Yes. Louise and that snake
accountant of Eleanor’s— Martin something. It was a disgusting situation for
that child to be growing up around.”
    “Louise and Martin?”
    Unpleasant pictures floated
through Savannah’s brain. If there was anything more unappealing than Louise or
Martin, it was the thought of the two of them together.
    “Yeah, they were like a
couple of dogs in heat, all over each other right in front of that little girl.
Of course, Martin’s just one in a long line for Louise, but with Gilly getting
older, she needed to cut down on her shenanigans a bit, or at least keep it
behind closed doors.” Louise and Martin. This opened up all sorts of
possibilities, Savannah mused, sordid though they might be.
    “And Eleanor didn’t agree
with you? About their relationship, I mean.”
    “Oh, I think she did. She
couldn’t have been happy about it either. But she didn’t want to hear anything
bad concerning Louise. Eleanor could talk trash about her own daughter, but
heaven help you if you said a word about her.”
    “How long do you think it
was going on—this affair?” Elizabeth shrugged. “At least six months before I
confronted Eleanor about it. I don’t know if they ever broke it off. Could
still be going on for all I know.” Savannah flashed back to earlier in the
afternoon at the cemetery—Martin standing behind Louise, his hand on her
shoulder. Had there been chemistry between them? In retrospect, very likely.
    Savannah stood up and laid
a three-dollar tip on the bar. She hadn’t touched the smoothie. Even if she had
wanted it before, the thought of Louise and Martin doing the grizzly bear hump
had put her off her feed.
    “Thank you, Elizabeth, for
speaking with me. I’m really trying to do what I can for your sister, even if
it is.... after the fact, so to speak.”
    “Yeah, okay. No problem.”
Elizabeth gave her a grudging smile and quickly covered the dollar bills with
her palm. “Thanks.”
    Savannah found Cordele
sitting, as requested, on a bench beside the fountain in the center of the
mall. Palmettos surrounded a blue-tiled pool where goldfish swam among myriad
coins tossed there by well-wishers. A plume of water shot upward toward a
skylight and fell, a spray of glittering iridescence, back into the pond.
    Savannah steeled herself
for another war of the words, but when Cordele looked her way, she smiled. Just
a half-smile, really, but Savannah was happy even for that. Apparently she was
over their last argument.
    “Sorry—that took a little
longer than I’d hoped,” she said as she sat down on the bench beside her.
    “It’s okay. I was just
sitting here, watching people go by.” Cordele waved her hand, indicating the
dozens of shoppers hurrying past them. “Folks sure do come in all shapes,
sizes, and colors, don’t they?”
    “They certainly do.
Sometimes I just sit in a public place and look at the passersby and think, not
one out of fifty of these people is thin enough and young enough and attractive
enough to be on the front cover of a fashion magazine. But they’re all
beautiful in their own way.”
    About that time, a woman in
her seventies strolled by, wearing a turquoise pants suit, white patent leather
shoes and purse, and large dangling earrings that nearly brushed her shoulders.
    “Look at her,” Savannah
said. “A spring in her step and a sparkle in her eyes. You can just tell she’s
full of vinegar. She’s lovely.”
    “That’s because she’s
happy,” Cordele observed. “And that’s why I want to be a psychologist. I want
to help people. I want them all to be happy. Or at least as many as possible.”
    Savannah reached over and
put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “And that’s why you’re going to make
a great psychologist. You’ll make a real difference in the world, Cordele.”
    Savannah’s sister looked at
her with little-girl eyes. “Do you really think so?”
    “Absolutely. No doubt about
it. You’ll be an instrument of healing and comfort to many, many people in the
course of your career. You mark my words, darlin’.” Cordele blushed with
pleasure, and Savannah gave her a squeeze. “How about that French manicure now?
Maybe we’ll splurge and get gorgeous toesies while we’re at it.”
    “Okay.” Cordele glanced
around, as though afraid the Diet