Killer Calories

every month is the only day of peace and quiet I have. Phoebe is... well, she’s energetic,” he added, after an awkward hesitation.
    “Yes. I’ve noticed,” Savannah agreed. “Thank you for giving up your one tranquil day a month to see us. I wasn’t sure you’d welcome me, after you refused to take my phone calls.”
    Ford looked embarrassed. He fidgeted briefly with his cup, then refilled it from the pot, and said, “You’re here now, so we may as well enjoy our visit.”
    Savannah thought the sentiment was nice enough, but the look on his face was anything but one of pleasure. In fact, he looked ill at ease to the point of being miserable.
    John led the conversation into more shallow waters, reminiscing about their days at merry old Oxford . While John Gibson had been born and raised only a short distance from the university, Ford Chesterfield had been sent to Britain by wealthy parents to complete his Ivy League education Although their association had been brief, they had shared a few experiences that provided some entertaining anecdotes.
    Besides, their chatter gave Savannah time to formulate how she would steer the subject back to Kat Valentina. Thank fully, John did it for her. She would have to remember to kiss him on the cheek once they were back inside the Bentley.
    “I understand you and the recently departed Miss Valentina were close friends,” John said to Ford as he picked up the silver tongs and dropped a sugar cube into his tea. “A rather cozy arrangement, I hear.”
    Well, so much for subtle conversation gambits, Savannah thought, listening and watching with acute interest.
    Ford cleared his throat and stared down into his tea as though a miniature shark were circling inside the cup. “I’m not certain where you received your information,” he told John, “but your source isn’t as informed as he or she may have led you to believe.”
    “Then you weren’t... close?” Savannah asked.
    “We discussed business on a number of occasions. That was the extent of our association.”
    “Yes,” John said smoothly, “I heard you paid a numb# of visits to the spa, just before Miss Valentina’s unfortunate accident.”
    “I was attempting to buy a section of the Royal Palms property from her. That’s all. I’ve grown tired of hearing my sister complain about all the indiscretions within her viewing. I thought if I could purchase the land and fence it off, I might get some peace.”
    “Most sensible,” John said, nodding solemnly. “Was she interested in your proposition?”
    “Not at all. After several attempts to persuade her, I abandoned the idea.”
    “ Mmmmm .” Savannah watched him carefully, studying his body language, the movement of his eyes, the way he held himself, the manner in which he handled the teacup in his hand.
    Later, when she and John had left the hacienda and were back inside the Bentley, she gave him the kiss she had been saving and asked, “Do you think he was telling the truth about himself and Kat? Was his only interest in her financial?”
    “In a pig’s eye, my dear girl. I could see it written all over his face. The old chap was smitten with Lady Katarina Valentina... positively dizzy over her. And I’d venture to say, he still is.”
    John shook his head and chuckled. “It was as obvious as the mustache on his face, which, by the way, was trimmed in far too thin a line. For heaven’s sake, that style went out of feshion with Errol Flynn. Chesterfield ’s barber really should tell him how unbecoming it is.”
    Savannah cut a sideways glance at John’s luxurious silver cookie duster with its carefully combed and slightly uptilted ends.
    He gave her a grin that made his mustache twitch and her giggle.
    She had to agree.

    Savannah was halfway back to her dorm room when it occurred to her that even a brief pop-in visit with Dion Zeller might be a good idea. Last night must have been a sleepless one for him, with his life hanging in the balance. Maybe he needed a friend. Everyone needed someone once in a while.
    Although he might have been out, running among the daisies, Savannah didn’t think so. If she had been in the same circumstances, she would have been holed up in her room, thinking, worrying, deciding . So she stopped by his cottage and rapped softly on the door.
    After knocking a second time, she realized the door was slightly ajar. Ordinarily, that fact wouldn’t have been particularly noteworthy. But with a suspicious death