Killer Calories

Kat’s amorous feelings had not been returned. At all.
    If the tide had run the other way, Savannah might have suspected Dion of killing a woman who wouldn’t return his affection, but how could the contents of these letters have led to Kat’s own demise? Something seemed askew, and Savannah couldn’t quite figure out what.
    Savannah took more time than she had intended to read all the letters. But other than an ever-heightening level of agitation, the theme seemed consistent, month after month Kat wanted Dion; Dion didn’t want Kat.
    When Savannah checked the dates in the upper right hand corner, she realized that Kat had been pursuing him for the past four years, at least. That was a long time for a woman to be scorned.
    So, why hadn’t Dion been the one lying, lifeless, in the mud bath, staring into eternity?
    Still looking for answers, Savannah began to flip through one of the photograph albums. The pictures were pretty standard fare: vacation shots, assorted pets, a few cars, and family holiday get-togethers.
    Then she came to a series of other photos, taken on a tropical island somewhere, on what must have been a romantic getaway with a lover.
    A much younger Dion looked happy, relaxed and completely infatuated by the sweetheart at his side. Apparently, those had been happy times for the two of them, and Savannah found herself wondering what had happened to end the relationship.
    She wondered if Dion still grieved for his lost love. Did his mate on the tropical island know that he still had these photos, that he obviously treasured them and kept them with those few items that were dearest to his heart?
    Savannah couldn’t help wondering.
    Because she knew that smiling face, the one next to Dion's in the pictures. She knew it all too well. And she never ceased to be amazed that, no matter how completely you thought you knew a person, they always, always had more secrets. You never knew it all.

    * * *

    “I’m so glad you got my message,” Savannah said as Ryan I stepped into the gazebo and sat beside her on the cushioned bench. “And thanks for coming alone.”
    “No problem.” He gave her an affectionate peck on her cheek. “Your note made it clear you wanted it that way. I always aim to please a pretty lady.”
    Briefly, Savannah wondered if she would ever get over this silly, futile crush she had on Ryan Stone. His very nearness set her pantaloons aquiver, and the effect didn’t appear to be lessening over time.
    “Did John see my note?” she asked.
    “Yes, the young redhaired receptionist gave it to us right after we registered.”
    “Was he upset that I didn’t invite him, too?”
    “Upset?” Ryan thought for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t say he was upset. Maybe a bit curious. For that matter, so am I .”
    Savannah turned and looked across the landscape, drawing from the tranquility the view offered. Golden, late-afternoon sunlight gilded the tawny foothills, causing even the ragged scrub brush to look like royal velvet, gracefully draped to display its luxurious pile to the greatest advantage.
    In the distance, she could see a sparkling, blue strip of ocean that disappeared into sea haze and the purple islands at the farthest edge of the horizon.
    “I’m sorry to be so mysterious,” she said. “I just thought it would be better if you and I talked privately first.” She turrned to him and gave him a searching look. “You see, it’s about Dion Zeller.”
    He nodded knowingly. “I had a feeling you’d be asking me about Dion, sooner or later. You’re a good detective, Savannah . I knew it was just a matter of time before you and I were going to be strolling down memory lane together. My memories, that is, and my lane.”
    “Do you mind talking about him?”
    “Not at all. Dion was an important part of my life, a very nice part. But that was a long time ago.”
    “Then you knew him... before John?”
    “Yes. Right before. I met John a few months after Dion and I parted ways.”
    Savannah was relieved, though she chided herself for worrying in the first place. From what she knew of Ryan, he was an honorable man, a gentleman whose word was sacred. She would have been surprised if he had been unfaithful to his partner.
    “I searched Dion’s room today, and I found some pictures of the two of you, vacationing, I think.”
    A shy smile crossed Ryan’s face, and he said, “Hmmm… so, he kept them. That’s sort of nice to know, I guess.”
    “Were you together for