Death by Chocolate

Gilly, her small face lit with joy as she played
with her new puppy. Savannah could also remember a moment there in the moonlit
gazebo when the child had been speaking about her mother leaving her alone for
long periods of time and about Grandma smelling like booze and talking bad. Savannah
recalled the traces of bitterness and anger on that tiny face. The cycle was
beginning all over again. Yes... it seemed that hate just ran in some families.
    Savannah was awake another
hour, thinking about it. But she wasn’t wondering why.

Chapter

22
     
     
     
    S avannah silently cursed
Dirk, who sat across the table from her, an expectant
grin on his face. He had a lot of nerve, showing up before she’d even downed
her second cup of coffee and asking for a favor. A favor which he could have
easily done himself—if it hadn’t been for that stupid “male pride” thing.
    Apparently, it wasn’t easy
for some men to ask another guy for help. And in Dirk’s case, why should he? He
had Savannah to do it for him.
    As Dirk watched, tapping
his fingers on the tabletop, and Cordele poked around in the refrigerator,
looking for something “worth eating,” as she had delicately phrased it,
Savannah sat with her coffee cup in one hand and the phone in the other,
waiting for Ryan to pick up on the other end. He did.... on the third ring.
    “It’s Savannah,” she said,
instantly cheering at the sound of his deep, virile voice. A shot of Ryan in
the morning was more stimulating than any caffeine.
    “Dirk has a favor to ask
you,” she said, wrinkling her nose at Dirk.
    “Oh, goody,” Ryan replied.
She could hear the semi-sarcastic tone. It was hard to miss. The fact had been
established long ago that Dirk, Ryan, and John would probably have nothing to
do with each other were it not for the common denominator of their friendship
to Savannah. “What can I do for Detective Coulter?” he said wryly.
    “He wants you to put on
your sexiest swim briefs— the briefer the better—and go hang out on the beach.”
There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, Ryan said, “I’m afraid to
ask why.”
    She grinned. “I understand.
But if you’ll slip those on and grab a beach towel and a book, we’d like to
meet you at Topanga Park in an hour. Do you mind?”
    Again, silence. Then, “For
you, Savannah, anything.”
    “I love you.”
    “And obviously, I do you,
too. See you in an hour.” As Savannah was pushing the TALK button to end the
call, she glanced over at Cordele, who had suddenly emerged from the
refrigerator. “Ryan Stone.... in a skimpy swimsuit?” she said, tongue hanging
slightly out. “Can I go along?”
    Savannah shook her head.
“No.”
    She stomped her foot.
“Yes!”
    “I said, ‘No.’ It’s
business, not pleasure.”
    “Since when is seeing Ryan
Stone’s bod in a swimsuit not a pleasure?” Cordele wanted to know.
    Dirk had had enough. He
pushed away from the table and stood. “You broads are disgusting, you know
that? And you talk about us guys ogling chicks!”
    “Oh, shut up, Dirk,”
Savannah replied, burying her face in her cup. “After all, Ryan in a swimsuit
was your big idea.”
    Dirk grunted and left the
room.
    “See ya in an hour,” Savannah
called after him. She heard the front door slam.
    “I wanna go!” Cordele
whined. “I mean it, Savannah! I really, really wanna go! And you'd better let
me.”
    Savannah took a deep breath
and another drink of coffee.
    “No.”
     
     
     
    An hour later, Savannah,
Dirk, and Ryan rendezvoused at the Topanga State Park, a beach reserve that was
conveniently located only about a quarter of a mile from the Maxwell estate.
Ryan was wearing a navy polo shirt and white walking shorts, but he quickly
assured her that he had a pair of red Speedos underneath.
    “I wasn’t going to drive
around town in them,” he told Dirk, whose perpetual frown had deepened upon
seeing his attire. “Not even for you.” He turned back to Savannah. “What’s this
all about, anyway?”
    She pulled a pair of
binoculars off the Buick’s dash and beckoned him. “Follow me.”
    They walked to a small
cliff that had wooden steps leading to the beach. She pointed down the stretch
of sand to a tiny cove and handed him the binoculars.
    “Check out the blonde in the
pink bikini lying there on the towel,” she told him.
    He looked through the
glasses and focused. “Yeah. So?”
    Dirk gave her a quick look
and a smirk. Savannah’s nostrils flared, so he