Killer Calories

Mississippi mud that was more flavorful than this.”
    “So, don’t bitch; it was free.”
    “And worth every penny you spent for it.” She set the cup on the dash. “Are you going to check with the grocery store about his ‘rental’?”
    “Already did.”
    “And?”
    “They never heard of the good Dr. Ross, let alone rented him any carpet shampooer.”
    “Why... that liar!”
    “Yeah.” Dirk drained his own coffee and started on hers. “ Lyin ’ is probably the least of what he’s done.”
    Savannah shook her head in disgust. “And to think, I let him palpate my ankle!”

    * * *

    They should either get rid of some of this shrubbery, install brighter lights, or hire some security guards, Savannah thought as she paused in the middle of the stone walkway and peered into the shadows to her left. A second ago, she had heard the distinct sound of something—smaller than a Cadillac, but definitely larger than the proverbial bread box—moving in the bushes.
    “I’m getting tired of this,” she said, keeping her voice calm and even, in spite of the fact that her pulse was pounding in her ears. “I don’t cotton to being spied on. When I find out who you are, I’m going to jerk a knothole in your ass, mark my words.”
    No reply. No sound of any kind. No movement.
    But she could feel him, her, or them... watching. She could almost hear their breathing and smell their nervous sweat.
    “If watching me walk from one place to another is your idea of entertainment,” she said, “it’s a sad commentary on your social life.”
    Still nothing.
    Most people she knew might have chalked her original misgivings up to an overactive imagination. But long ago, Savannah had learned to trust her instincts about such things. As a cop, her life had depended on it. Occasionally, as a private investigator, it still did.
    Once again, she walked away, keeping an eye on her back. As before, her voyeur didn’t attempt to contact her— a frustration and relief in one.
    She felt eyes watching her until she entered the dormitory and closed the door behind her.
    Weird, she thought. Very weird.
    But it was pretty much in keeping with everything else connected to this case. On the surface, everything appeared straightforward, cut-and-dried. But beneath there was an unsettling feeling that nothing was as it seemed.
    She passed through the empty hallway and opened the door to her and Tammy’s room. Flipping on the light switch, she glanced down and saw a white envelope lying on the floor. Apparently, someone had shoved it under her door.
    The spy in the bushes? Maybe.
    At least their room didn’t look as though it had been caught up in Dorothy’s cyclone and dumped in the Land of Oz.
    Maybe it’s more money, she thought excitedly as she ripped open the envelope. But this one was thin, containing only one folded piece of paper.
    Oh, well, it wasn’t money... but it was an intriguing invitation.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    “ O h, my God... Savannah , you aren’t going to go, are you?” Tammy said as she stood over Savannah ’s shoulder, staring down at the note she had spread on the bed before her.
    “Of course, I’m going to go. How often do I get asked out by a doctor? Granny Reid would be ecstatic.”
    “I don’t think this counts . He isn’t exactly inviting you to dinner and a play.” Tammy sat down on the bed beside Savannah and crossed her legs, yoga-style. Savannah had always secretly hated anyone agile enough to do that. But at the moment she had other, more pressing concerns than flexibility envy.
    She read the note for the fifth time. The words had been dribbled with the stereotypical physician’s scrawl across a piece of the spa’s stationery. It read:

    Dear Savannah ,
    Would you please meet me in Cottage #4 around nine this evening? I have some important matters to discuss with you and would be grateful if you could find time for me.
    Remember, I wrote you that note for your bogus ankle sprain. So, you owe me one.
    Sincerely,
    Freeman Ross

    “Hmmm... I wonder how I should dress,” she mused. “The simple black dress with pearls and heels, or maybe—”
    “I think a swimsuit would be more in order. Cottage #4 has an herbal hot tub. Ooo -la-la.” Tammy flopped on her tummy on the bed and began to pluck nervously at the velvet pile of the bedspread. “Unless, of course, romance isn’t what’s on his mind,” she added. “Maybe he wants to drown you, the way he did Kat.”
    “We don’t know that