Killer Calories

sure. They had only rosebushes for company. “Ms. Valentina did meet a pretty dreadful end .“
    “Oh, I don’t think it was all that bad. Got drunk and passed out in a mud bath... that’s what the paper said.” Phoebe carefully chose and snipped another bud. “It was probably quick and painless.”
    “But she was so young. And then, there are all the rumors .”
    Again, the carefully plucked eyebrow twitched, registering the woman’s interest, though Phoebe never took her eyes off her roses. “Oh, yes, you mentioned that before,” she said offhandedly. “Exactly which rumors do you mean?”
    “That she might have committed suicide... or that it might have even been murder.”
    This time both of Phoebe’s eyebrows flew up. She didn’t even pretend to be nonchalant. “Really? They’re saying that? Who’s saying that?”
    Savannah shrugged. “Oh, they... a few people... here and there.”
    “What makes them think so?”
    “I’m not sure. But they certainly have their suspicions. What do you think?”
    “I think either suicide... or worse, is entirely possible. Kat Valentina was, pardon my language, an absolute strumpet, a woman of the very worst character. She even came after my brother Ford, you know, and him old enough to be her grandfather.”
    Savannah heard a sound, a rustling, behind her, and turned to see a dignified gentleman with the same thick, silver hair and pale blue eyes as Phoebe standing there. He wore a scowl on his handsome face as he walked closer to them. He was dressed in a gray sport shirt and charcoal slacks and looked remarkably fit for his sixty-plus or so years.
    “Now Phoebe,” he said. “If you’re going to gossip about me behind my back, at least be sure of your facts. I might have been old enough to be Miss Valentina’s father, but certainly not her grandfather.”
    Phoebe sniffed her disdain. “Grandfather, father... you still made a fool of yourself over that girl.”
    He gave his sister a sad, indulgent smile. “Maybe so, but I was in good company. I’ve been reading the articles about her in the paper since her death. It seems mine wasn’t the only heart she snared.”
    Holding out his hand to Savannah , he said, “By the way,
    I’m Ford Chesterfield, the fool in question. And you are?”
    She shook it and was surprised at the firmness and vitality of his touch. “I’m Savannah Reid,” she replied. “A guest at the spa. I was out for a hike and saw your sister’s beautiful garden.”
    “Yes, Phoebe has many talents... and far too many interests for her own good.”
    He gave his sister a pointed look, but she chose to ignore him, concentrating on her rose cutting.
    Savannah weighed the advantages of hanging around and trying to get anything else out of Phoebe Chesterfield. It wasn’t too likely, with her brother standing there. Obviously, he didn’t approve of her “many interests.” Their little gossip tête-à-tête seemed to have come to an abrupt ending.
    “Well, I guess I’ll continue with my hike,” Savannah said, setting the basket filled with flowers on the ground at Phoebe’s feet . “Thank you for sharing your gardening tips with me. I’ll pass the banana peel suggestion on to my granny Reid.”
    Unexpectedly, Phoebe handed Savannah the Moon Shadow bud she had just cut. “Here,” she said. “These dry nicely. Do that and then send it along to your very ladylike grandmother.”
    Savannah took the rose and for a moment her eyes met Phoebe’s, and the two women connected. In that split second, Savannah decided that maybe Phoebe wasn’t such a bad sort, after all. Nosy, yes. Judgmental, definitely.
    But as Savannah wished Phoebe and her brother good day and headed down the hill, she decided that anybody who could grow a perfect Moon Shadow rose couldn’t be all bad.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    “ A re you saying you want me to lie for you? Is that what you’re telling me?” Tammy stood in the middle of their room, wearing a look of indignation.
    Savannah wore only a towel. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”
    She pulled some clean clothes from her suitcase and spread them on the bed. “I have to go into town and see Dirk, and you have to cover for me here. Tell them I have a migraine, that I’m sleeping it off.”
    “But you don’t, and you aren’t.”
    “So? What does that have to do with the price of Arkansas cotton?”
    Tammy looked confused. “What does cotton have to do with this?”
    Savannah sighed,