Sour Grapes

girls had something dreadful put on her bed.” She turned to Atlanta. “I believe they said it was you, Miss Reid.”
    Atlanta glanced at Savannah, who gave her a warning, “keep quiet” look. She shrugged and studied the ranch-pegged hardwood floor.
    “Well, yes, that’s true,” Savannah offered. “Although we aren’t sure yet how it got there or exactly what it is.”
    “I was told it’s blood,” Catherine said. “You don’t think one of our girls has been hurt, do you?”
    “I certainly hope not. We’ve called the police and—” ‘The police? Was that really necessary? I mean, if word of this gets out...” “ Yes?”
    Mrs. Villa actually looked embarrassed, as though ashamed to be caught worrying about anything so frivolous as her vineyard’s reputation, when one of her young guests might have recently shed some of her life’s blood on one of her bedspreads. “ You... you know... how this sort of thing gets all blown out of proportion,” she said. “People love a morbid story, and I can just see it all over the newspapers by tomorrow morning.”
    Savannah pasted a sympathetic look on her face. “Of course I understand. But certainly none of ms would call the press. And the police officer who’s coming is a personal friend of mine. We were partners together on the force for years. I’m sure we can trust him to be discreet.”
    Mrs. Villa seemed immensely relieved. “Oh, thank goodness.” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “After all, this event was meant to generate positive publicity... what with my husband running for the senate. And, of course, we did it to help the girls with their scholarships, and all that.”
    “Of course... all that.”
    Catherine paused, giving Savannah a searching look, as if trying to decide whether or not she was being mocked. Savannah decided to let her wonder.
    “I just feel so terrible about this.” She toyed with the drawstring of her jogging pants. “Is there any way I can help?”
    “Actually, yes,” Savannah said. “If you can ask your staff—anyone you can spare—to help us. Ryan Stone and Mrs. Lippincott are organizing a search for one of the young ladies who appears to be missing.”
    “Missing? Oh my! Now you are scaring me!”
    “Please don’t be overly concerned at this point,” Savannah said with far more assurance than she felt. “This may be nothing more than a cruel, tasteless joke. We’ll know more soon.”
    “Do keep me informed. I want to know everything. I’ll go speak to Mrs. Lippincott now about that extra help.”
    “Thank you. You’re most gracious.”
    As Savannah and Atlanta watched Catherine Whitestone-Villa hurry away, Atlanta leaned close to Savannah’s ear and said, “Do you like her?”
    “Of course I do. She’s my employer. And when you’re a private detective who gets a job once in a blue moon... you like anyone who offers you a paycheck. So what if she’s shallow, a bit dense, and a snob? That doesn’t make her altogether a bad person, does it?” Atlanta gave her a half smile. “Pretty close, I’d say.” Savannah pressed her finger to her lips. “Sh-h-h, now would be a good time to keep your opinions to yourself. Which reminds me, I don’t want you to tell anyone here about your disagreement with Barbie. Nobody. Got that?”
    Atlanta’s eyes grew wider, and she gave a paranoid glance around. “Why? Do you think somebody hurt her? You do! And you’re afraid that they’ll think I’m the one who did it. That’s it, isn’t it?”
    “You know that old phrase: What you say can and will be used against you? Well, that’s as true for innocent people as it is for guilty ones. So please, Atlanta, for right now say as little as possible to everybody here. Trust me on this one; okay, sweetie?”
    “Okay.” In a spontaneous gesture that went straight to Savannah’s heart, Atlanta threw her arms around her neck and gave her a suffocating hug. “Thanks, Van. Thanks for everything. I’m sorry about what I said earlier, about you being sexually frustrated and all that. Even if you are, I shouldn’t have brought it up like that.”
    “No problem.” Savannah returned the hug, squeezing her tightly around the waist and trying not to think about how bony her ribs felt. “All forgiven. All forgotten. All gone.”
    “Really?”
    “Really, really.”
    The front door of the gallery flew open, and Dirk entered, looking even more rumpled and grumpier than usual. Savannah gave Atlanta a