Cereal Killer (35 page)
“How do you wanna do it?” he asked her, his eyes as cold as hers. “One in the front, one in the back, or both of us through the front?”
Savannah stepped back and surveyed the exterior of the cottage, trying to guess at the interior layout. “If we break in the back door, we can probably nail him before he can get out of the bedroom and out the front door.”
“I’ll go to the front, just in case he runs out that way,” Tammy offered.
“He might be armed, Tammy,” Savannah said.
“Hell, Van,” Dirk said, glancing in the bedroom window. “I can bust a door down faster than that. If he bolts out the front, he’ll be lucky to be dressed.”
“That’s true. Let’s go.”
Savannah had to give Dirk credit for one thing: He was excellent at breaking in doors. He had it down and they were inside in four seconds.
In another two, they were standing at Leah Freed’s bedroom door, looking at the startled, horrified, and quite naked couple on the bed.
“Now there’s a sight that’ll haunt my dreams,” Savannah said as Dirk rushed forward, grabbed Kevin, and shoved him face forward onto the bed.
“You’re under arrest, Connor,” Dirk told him. “As I’m sure you know, you have the right to remain silent. And we both know you’ve already got yourself a fancy-dandy attorney who ain’t gonna get you off, ’cause I’ve got you good, buddy.
Real
good.”
Savannah walked into the room and picked up a silk robe that was lying on the floor. Tossing it in Leah’s direction, she said, “I want you to know, in spite of this new development, you’re still gonna pay me every penny you owe me.”
“What is this?” Leah exclaimed as she climbed into the robe. “What’s going on here?”
“Like you don’t know,” Savannah said. “Like you didn’t help him set this whole thing up.”
“What thing?”
Savannah gave Leah a long, hard look, then shook her head. “Boy, a model decides to leave you and you take it really personally, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When Dirk had Kevin cuffed, he pulled him to his feet, where he stood in all of his naked glory.
Savannah averted her eyes, but not before noticing that Kevin Connor had at least one quality that women might have found desirable.
“So, Kevin,” she said. “Exactly how many of your girlfriends did you involve in these murders of yours?”
His face, already crestfallen, fell a few more notches. He didn’t reply.
But Leah did. “What do you mean?” she said, bristling. “What do you mean by ‘his girlfriends’?”
“That’s right, Leah. Plural,” Savannah answered. “He’s been playing hokeypokey with a little nurse at the hospital. She even helped him dump Tesla off a cliff, and she hid his bloody jeans after he killed Kameeka. She says they were ‘in lo-o-ove.’ ” She gave Leah a tight smile and cocked her head sideways. “Tell me, Leah... are you two in loo-ove, too?”
Leah jumped off the bed and landed in front of Kevin. “Is that true?” she shouted in his face. “Have you been screwing somebody else? Have you?”
Kevin didn’t say a word.
“I think he’s exercising his right to be silent,” Savannah said.
Leah’s face went from red to purple, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “Answer me, Kevin.” She slapped him hard across the cheek.
Dirk made a movement toward her, as though to stop her, but Savannah shook her head, and he hesitated.
“If you have been,” Leah was saying, “I’ll find out and then I’m going to tell them everything. I swear, Kevin, I will!”
Kevin’s face flushed as dark as hers as he glared down at her. “Oh, yeah?” he said, his voice low, his tone ominous. “Well, if you do, I’ll tell them how you knew all about it long before I did it, and you didn’t do a damned thing to stop it. That would make you an accessory.”
Kevin turned to Dirk. “It would, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Wouldn’t that make her an accessory?”
“No way!” Leah shouted. “I didn’t know about Kameeka or Tesla until afterward. I thought it was just going to be Caitlin. I...”
Suddenly, both Leah and Kevin seemed to realize what they had just said. Their faces went from purple to white.
What a colorful couple,
Savannah thought.
And chatty, too.
Dirk looked across the room at Savannah, and they both started to laugh. “Don’t you love it?” he asked her.
“It’s what I live for, darlin’,” she replied. “It’s what I
live
for.”
* * *
Dirk and Tammy sat on Savannah’s sofa, watching the eleven o’clock news. Next to them, Savannah was relaxing in her easy chair, one cat on her lap, the other keeping her feet warm on the footstool. The bowls of popcorn in their laps were nearly empty, but their cups were overflowing with satisfaction and more than a little plain old conceit.
“Did that sister of yours find her way home?” Dirk asked, kicking off his shoes and propping his feet on her coffee table.
She didn’t object. At least he was taking off his sneakers first these days. There was hope for him after all. “Yes, Mari called half an hour ago. She made it home in one piece. Lover Boy Lester didn’t pick her up at the airport like he said he would. Seems his wife wouldn’t let him out of the house.”
“Doesn’t sound good,” Tammy said.
“Never does where Marietta’s men are concerned.” She glanced at the TV screen and saw a familiar face. “Hey, hey,” she said. “Here we go.”
“Kevin Connor”—the Los Angeles news anchor was saying—“... arrested today for the murder of his wife, the plus-sized supermodel, Caitlin Connor, and her friend, another model, Kameeka Wills. Although he will be represented by famed defense attorney, Marvin Klein, the district attorney says he has an excellent case against Mr. Connor, which includes both forensic evidence and witness accounts. He has also been charged with the attempted murder of a third model, Tesla Montoya, who remains in the hospital in stable condition after being rescued from a mountain road above Oak Grove. It is alleged that Connor dumped her there after a brutal attack.”
“Ah... Kevin’s not looking too happy there,” Tammy said as they showed the standard “perp walk” footage.
“At least he’s got his pants on,” Dirk said. “I hate havin’ to arrest naked guys. Girls, I don’t mind, but buck-naked guys give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Hey, listen,” Tammy said, pointing to the TV.
“A second suspect, famed talent agent Leah Freed, is also under arrest,” the female anchor continued. “Authorities believe she and Kevin Connor were romantically involved and that she was a co-conspirator in the Connor murder.
“Caitlin Connor was originally believed to have died accidentally from an extreme diet and exercise program. She was attempting to lose a large amount of weight in a brief time to fulfill a contractual agreement between herself and Wentworth Cereal. We now go to Dr. Jensen at the worldfamous Malibu Weightloss Center for a story on the dangers of crash dieting....”
Savannah’s living room was silent as the TV physician issued his warnings, including a brief editorial on society’s pressure on women to remain unnaturally slender, no matter what the cost to their health.
“Gee, you’ve gotta be pretty happy with that, Van,” Dirk said, when the story was over.
“It’s a start,” Savannah said. “Not exactly a Cape Canaveral blast-off start, but a step in the right direction.” She reached over to her end table and picked up a copy of
Real Woman.
It was the latest issue. On the cover was a picture of Caitlin Connor, her red hair spilling over her shoulders, her skin glowing with health, her eyes alight with the joy of living.
“Caitlin had thousands of fans who loved and admired her,” she said. “If even a few of them learn from her example, maybe she won’t have died for nothing.” She laid the magazine aside. “But either way... we did right by her, didn’t we?”
“We did, Van,” Dirk said. “We sure did.”
Savannah wiped a tear away with the back of her hand, reached down, and stroked Cleopatra’s black, satiny fur. She sniffed and said, “Anybody for a bowl of Chunky Monkey?”
“With chocolate syrup and whipped cream?” Dirk asked.
“Always, sweetcakes. Always. We don’t want nobody around here blowing away in a stiff wind.”
“Not likely,” Tammy said. “Not with you around to feed them.”
Savannah looked at her young friend and gave her a soft smile filled with affection. ‘You did great job on this case, kiddo. We couldn’t have done it without you. You want some carrot sticks with whipped cream and chocolate on top?”
Tammy beamed, basking in the praise. “I’ll take some ice cream, too. A big bowl. After all, we closed a case. We caught the bad guys. Several of them. It’s a special occasion, right?”
“Special, indeed,” Savannah said. “Let’s celebrate!”
Table of Contents