Death by Chocolate

bell went off in Savannah’s brain—an unpleasant
one that sounded a lot like a neighbor’s car alarm going off in the middle of
the night. “You didn’t see Louise?” she said. “But you said you gave her the
bottles of medicine.”
    “I left them there between
the screen and the door, like the note said.”
    Savannah recalled, word for
word, the contents of the letter that he had handed over to them. “But I read
the note. It didn’t say anything like that.”
    “Not that note,” he
said. ‘The note that was stuck to the door when I got there.”
    Savannah held up one hand.
‘Just a minute. Let me get this straight. She left you that letter in your
cubbyhole at work—the one you gave to us—asking you to bring the stuff out to
her. But then, when you took it to her cottage there on the estate, she wasn’t
there, just a note on the door asking you to leave it behind the screen?”
    He nodded. ‘Yeah. And
that’s why I was so bummed. Here I do this thing for her—stealing something
from my work—and taking it out to her, and she wasn’t even there to meet me.
And her knowing it was my birthday and all.”
    “I can see why you were
disappointed.”
    Tony wasn’t the only one
who was bummed, she thought. She wasn’t exactly thrilled with this new turn of
events herself. Dirk would be even less happy.
    “Have you seen Louise or
spoken to her since then?” she asked.
    He shook his head. “Nope. I
kept waiting for her to at least call and say ‘Thanks for the stuff,’ but when
she didn’t, I figured it was over.”
    He looked up at Savannah
with eyes that registered his hurt, but also some wisdom born of painful
experience.
    “Yes,” she said, “that was
smart on your part, dropping her, that is. You’re a good guy; you can do a lot
better than her.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t
really want anything to do with any girls right now. No offense, but they’re
more trouble than they’re worth.”
    Savannah laughed and patted
him on the shoulder. “Can’t argue with you there, Tony, my man. As a single
person myself, I can say.... it may not be as much fun but it’s a whole heap
simpler. You take it easy now, hear?”
    “Yeah. Okay. Did that help
you with your investigation?”
    She tried to paste on a
cheerful face. “Oh, yes. That was a major help. Thanks.”
    As she walked away, she
muttered, “With help like that, I think I’ll just go hang myself. And Dirk will
probably wanna swing right alongside me.”
     
     
    Savannah sat at her kitchen
table, staring dejectedly at the phone in front of her. Through the archway
leading into the living room, she could see Cordele in her usual spot, the
wingback chair, reading, cats on either side of her feet. Or at least Cordele was
pretending to read while Savannah made her unpleasant calls. She hadn’t turned
a page since Savannah had begun.
    The first call had been to
Ryan and John to tell them to keep the champagne on ice but tonight’s
cork-popping was on hold. They had been kind and sympathetic. As investigators
themselves, they knew the pain of having a case unravel in your hands.
    The next call would be less
pleasant, she knew.
    Dirk had a growl in his
voice the instant he picked up at the station house. “Coulter.”
    “Reid,” she responded,
equally brusque. “Still frosty around there?”
    “Got icicles hanging from
my nose. She ain’t budgin’ from the ‘I was in rehab’ bit. What about the kid?”
    “He never saw her. Said
that when he dropped off the pills at her place, she didn’t answer. There was a
typed note on the door telling him to leave it inside the screen.”
    “Damn! Anybody could have
written that.”
    “Yeah, on her computer
even, if she wasn’t home.” She heard the heavy sigh on the other end. ‘Just
like anybody could have written those letters on her computer, too. And if they
had a sample of her signature, they could have copied it at the bottom.”
    “Believe me, I’ve thought
of all of that. I’ve also thought about the fact that nobody on that estate
seemed to ever lock their doors. I guess they figured the security gate took
care of everything. So anybody on the grounds could have come and gone from
that cottage pretty easily when Gilly was at school and Louise was rehabbing.”
‘You’re just full of sunshine and light,” he said.
    “Hey, that’s the way the
cornbread crumbles. Did you get any confirmation from that clinic in San Diego
that she was there?”
    “Yeah, she was