Sour Grapes

from Savannah to Atlanta and back. Both were wiping their eyes and noses with tissues and sniffing.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is everything all... are you gals all... are you okay?”
    “We’re fine,” Savannah said, her arm around Atlanta’s shoulders. “What’s up, doc?”
    “We’ve got the Gorton kid.”
    “Francie?” Atlanta asked.
    “No, her brother, Trent.”
    “Where did you find him?” Savannah said.
    “In the arcade at the mall. Figures, huh?” He chuckled. “In the old days, when we were looking for a local punk, we checked out the pool halls. Now it’s the mall arcade... where all the mommies send their little kids when they’re shopping. Scary, huh?”
    “Very.” Savannah tucked the tissue into her pocket. “So what’s next?”
    “A lineup. I’ve got Mrs. Lippincott coming down to the station in an hour to see if he’s the one who dropped off those flowers. Wanna come and watch?” Savannah turned to Atlanta .
    Atlanta blew her nose soundly and gave Savannah a weak smile. “I’m all right. I’ve gotta practice my guitar anyway, get ready for the talent competition tonight. You go ahead.”
    “Okay,” Savannah said, “but—”
    “I know...1 know. Keep the door locked! Ugh!”

Chapter

21

    “M arion Lippincott must love you,” Savannah said, “you pulling her away on the last day... the big day... of her pageant.”
    “Actually, she hates me,” Dirk replied. “In fact, she called me a few names that I’m pretty sure aren’t supposed to be uttered at an All-American function like a beauty contest. But she don’t have to like me. She just has to show for the lineup.”
    With Dirk at the wheel, the battered old Skylark rounded the curves, heading out of wine country and entering lemon-grove country. In another ten minutes they would be “in town,” not that San Carmelita was a metropolis by anyone’s definition.
    Savannah was enjoying just sitting in the passenger’s seat, kicking back, savoring the view and a few responsibility-free minutes. And she had to admit she was actually glad to have some downtime with Dirk. Although she usually considered him a nuisance, he was a habit. And even an aggravation, if it was habitual, could be dear to the heart.
    “If Lippincott picks the Gorton boy out of the lineup, are you gonna hold him?” she asked.
    “I haven’t decided yet. But if she does ID him, it’ll give me a little more torque to squeeze him with.”
    “So, you haven’t questioned him yet?’
    “Nope. But I’m gonna right after the lineup. Wanna watch?”
    “Are you gonna use the rack and the pendulum?”
    “Naw... they’re at the repair shop. But I got this cool new contraption called an Iron Maiden. It’s this casket sorta thing with spikes inside. You stick the interviewee in it and slam the door closed.”
    “A la Edgar Allan Poe and Vincent Price?”
    “Exactly.”
    “Cool. I definitely wanna watch.”

    “What is this, man? I been treated with nothin’ but disrespect all day long, man. You know what I’m sayin’, man?”
    Trent Gorton walked with that cocky bee-bop stride that made Savannah wish she had an enormous fly-swatter so that she could whack him across the butt with it. As she watched Dirk lead him down the hall from the temporary lockup to the room where they would do the lineup, she wondered how this scraggly, moronic gangster could be from the same gene pool as his lovely, intelligent, sensitive sister.
    “What’s up?” he asked for the tenth time in three minutes. “Where we goin’? Whatcha’ll doin’ with me here? I didn’t do nothin’ and nobody’s told me nothin'.“ “ You’re gonna stand in a lineup, pal,” Dirk told him. “We’ve got the lady who saw you delivering that batch of flowers to Barbara Matthews the night you killed her.”
    “I didn’t kill nobody. I was through with her, man. We was broke up, and I’m on to another old lady. You know what I mean, man?”
    “For right now, let’s just see if we can get a positive ID. Then we’ll take it from there.”
    “Can I leave, man? I mean, if you get that positive ID you want, can I leave?”
    Dirk stopped, spun him around, and began to remove his handcuffs. “We’ll see. One thing at a time, my friend. I’m gonna take these cuffs off for the moment, ‘cause we don’t want you to be only one standin’ there wearin’ bracelets. But you try to pull somethin’, and I’ll be all over you... you know what I mean, man?”
    “I hear