Killer Calories

that ?“
    “Three hard, two soft, another hard... and... oh shoot, what was the rest?”
    Savannah stifled a snicker. “That’s okay, Tam. Don’t sweat it. If anybody’s coming, just open the door a crack and tell me so.”
    “You got it.”

    The ladies’ room had three stalls, a couple of sinks, and, standing in each corner, miniature statuettes resembling those the lobby. The mirrors over the sinks were surrounded by a ring of bright, Hollywood dressing table-type lightbulbs that did nothing to flatter a woman’s face. Savannah was surprised that Kat Valentina would have allowed such things in her establishment.
    But then, these mirrors were for lobby visitors, more than spa guests, and maybe they were intended to instill self-doubt loathing, like Adam and Eve with their unrealistically Perfect bodies.
    Savannah ducked into the third stall and bolted the door behind her. After listening and hearing nothing but the overhead fan spinning, she pulled her cellular phone from her waistband, where she had tucked it next to her Beretta.
    Punching “redial” she listened to the phone play its non- melodic tune at lightning speed. After ten rings, the party on the other end answered.
    “Halloo,” said Phoebe Chesterfield with a voice that was strong, but sounded a bit breathless.
    “It’s Savannah Reid, Miss Chesterfield.”
    “Yes, Savannah. I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, but I had to run down from the bell tower.”
    “Then you were watching for me with your telescope ?“
    “You asked me to, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Well, unlike these younger people today, I keep my word. When I say I’m going to do something, you can bet your life on me doing it.”
    “That’s wonderful to hear.” Savannah was impatient to get off the morality lesson and on to the latest news bulletin. “So... did you keep an eye on the mailbox area for me?”
    “Yes, I watched it. I watched it like a hawk from the minute you called me, until just now when I heard the phone ring.”
    “And did you see someone take anything from the mailbox?”
    “I certainly did.”
    “That’s fantastic!” Savannah could feel her heart rate rise appreciatively. “Who was it?”
    “I’m not going to tell you.”
    “ Wh — what?”
    “I said, ‘I’m not going to tell you.’ I think I’ll just keep it to myself,” Phoebe Chesterfield replied as cool as a sprig of mint floating on top of a julep.
    “But you can’t do that! I’m the one who told you somebody was going to be there in the first place....” You nosy old biddy body, she added silently, biting the words off on her tongue.
    “Well, you didn’t tell me why they were there and what they were doing. And you didn’t mention why you wanted me to spy on them. Why should I share my information with you, if you’re holding back on me?”
    Savannah had to give her that round. She had a point, but—
    “Phoebe, I can’t tell you. I’m a professional private detective, and as a professional, there are certain things I’m not at liberty to discuss with other people.”
    “Then I’m not at liberty either. But I will tell you one thing. The person you were asking about—”
    “Yes?”
    “They didn’t just take something out of the box. They Put something in, too. Good night, Savannah . Sleep tight.” Click.
    Dial tone.
    “She hung up on me.” Savannah stared at the phone until the operator’s recorded voice came on the line, telling er to hang up the phone and try her call again later. “First she holds out on me, and then she hangs up on me! Why the Sail of some people!”
    A series of frantic, erratic knocks sounded on the rest-room door. Savannah jumped. “What the hell?”
    Suddenly, it occurred to her that this was Tammy’s version of the secret detectives’ knock.
    She tucked the phone into her waistband, lowered her blouse, and walked out of the stall, just in time to see Tammy’s head poke inside the door.
    “She’s coming. I think Bernadette’s taking a potty break “
    “Thanks.”
    “Did I do the knock right?”
    Savannah gave her a deep-dimpled grin. “You did it perfectly.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    Chuckling to herself, Savannah walked over to the blue-and-white-tiled sinks and washed her hands. As she was drying them on a small white hand towel, Bernadette entered, gave her a brief nod, and headed for the first stall.
    “Nice evening,” Savannah told her.
    “Yeah. But you guys had better get in bed. Lights-out in