Poisoned Tarts (14 page)

“Oh, they've been here all day, helping her…which means waiting on her hand and foot. Those girls are nothing but slaves to Tiffany. She uses them terribly. Uses us all, for that matter.”

Savannah turned to Dirk. “I'd love to have a few minutes alone with Bunny or Kiki, if that's possible.”

“I could probably arrange that,” Robyn said. “Which one would you like to talk to first?”

Carefully, Savannah considered her answer. Bunny, the cocky, self-assured brunette who was obviously trying to be a Tiffy clone? Or Kiki, the black-haired, exotic beauty with the haunted almond eyes?

“Kiki,” she said. “I'd love to have some one-on-one time with Kiki.”

Robyn crooked a finger, beckoning them to follow her, and led them to the rear of the house and the kitchen. “Go in there,” she told Savannah, motioning to the glassed-in breakfast nook. “I'll see if I can get her to join you.”

Turning to Dirk, Robyn said, “And how can I help
you?”

Dirk smiled a nasty little smile. “Oh, I want to talk to Miss Tiff again. And since Mr. Dante isn't at home, all I need is your permission to be here on the property.”

Robyn laughed an equally nasty little laugh. “Oh, you have my permission to stay as long as you want.” She waved an arm wide. “Search if you want. Search everything and anything. In fact, I believe that Tiffany's bedroom, the one with the bright pink door on the second floor, is
my
property.”

“I like how you think,” Dirk told her.

“Go for it. As far as I'm concerned, you can search her lingerie drawers if you want.”

“Well, I don't think that'll be necessary,” he said, “but it's nice to have your blessing. In fact, maybe I'll put off talking to Tiffany for a little while.”

“How long do you figure it'll take you to toss her room?” Savannah asked.

But Dirk was already on his way upstairs.

Not a lot of opportunities passed by Detective Sergeant Dirk Coulter. He was a grab the moment sort of guy.

“Go,” Robyn said. “Sit down in there behind that big fern so they won't see you from the pool. I'll see if I can get her to come in alone.”

Savannah did as she was told. She went into the breakfast nook and took a seat at the table behind a giant fern, making sure she was well-hidden from anyone outside.

Robyn left her, and Savannah could hear her shout from the back door, “Kiki! Ki-ki! Could you come help me a minute?”

“She can't. She's busy helping me!” came the indignant reply.

“Just for a minute,” Robyn said. “The workers left some boxes here in the kitchen, and I need somebody to help me move them so that I can make myself some dinner.”

Savannah smiled. Robyn was no dummy. With the threat of physical labor looming on the horizon, what were the chances that Tiffy herself would come rather than sending one of her flunkies?

A few minutes later, she heard Kiki come inside and say, “Okay, where are they?”

“The boxes? Yeah…well, come in here with me.”

When Kiki entered the breakfast nook and saw Savannah, she looked startled and not at all happy she was there.

She whirled around to Robyn, who was behind her, and said, “What is this? What is
she
doing here?”

“She just got here and asked to speak to you for a moment. I'm sure you'd like to help her find Daisy.”

“So there aren't any boxes to move?”

Robyn shrugged. “Oh, I can move those myself. You go ahead and talk to Ms. Reid.” She gave the girl a long, hard look. “After all,” she added, “it's the very least you can do for your friend, right?”

Kiki looked back at Savannah, a look of pure misery in her beautiful almond eyes. “Sure,” she said with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever. “Why not?”

T
en minutes later, Savannah realized that, even though Kiki gave the appearance of at least pretending to cooperate, she was no more informative than her friend Tiffany.

“So, you're saying that you didn't even see Daisy at all on Tuesday, the day she went missing.”

The girl sat across the table from Savannah, staring down at her hands, which were demurely folded in her lap. Her long black hair hung like a dark privacy curtain around her, concealing much of her beautiful face.

“That's right,” she said softly. “I didn't see her. I wasn't here.”

“Where were you?”

“When?”

“All day but specifically, Tuesday afternoon, say between five and six.”

“I was driving around, doing some errands for Tiffany.”

“What kind of errands?”

Kiki shrugged. “Oh, I dropped some clothes at the cleaners for her, and I picked up her party costume from the seamstress in Twin Oaks and stuff like that.”

“Then why did other people tell me that they saw you here Tuesday afternoon?”

“Who said that? Who told you that?”

Savannah decided not to cause Robyn any trouble since she had become her newest best friend. “It doesn't matter who. But you
were
here. So why are you lying to me about it?”

To Savannah's surprise, the girl burst into tears and covered her face with both of her hands, sobbing into them.

Quickly, Savannah rose from her chair and knelt beside Kiki. She put her hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face her. “Kiki, honey,” she said in her most comforting, maternal voice, “I don't want to upset you. I want to help you. Please talk to me.”

Instead of replying, the girl continued to cry, her face covered.

“You know what happened to Daisy, and I think you feel really, really bad about it. If you tell me what happened, I can help you get through this awful thing. Really, I can.”

“I can't,” was the muffled, tearful response. “I can't tell you anything. Please don't ask me.”

Savannah reached up and gently pulled Kiki's hands from her face. “Look at me, sugar. And listen to me. Whatever it is, I'll just bet that you're not the one responsible for it. Someone else is, and we know who. We already know that it's Tiffany.”

Kiki's eyes widened, and she gasped. “You do?”

“Yes. We have solid physical proof. We know most of it already. We just need you to fill in the blanks.”

“Please, ask somebody else. Ask Tiffany or Bunny.”

“We already questioned Tiffany. She told Detective Coulter that it was you and Bunny who did it.”

Another gasp. “She did not!”

“She did. She didn't say exactly what was done to Daisy, but she implied very strongly that it was you two, not her, who did it.”

Okay, so my tongue will turn black and fall out from lying
, she thought.
The end justifies the means and all that. Not that Gran would agree with the fine points of my theology, but…

“Tiffany said that Bunny and I did it?” Kiki was saying, her hair and her hands away from her eyes as she searched Savannah's face. “Are you kidding me? She said it was
us?
”

“Yes, but I didn't believe her for one minute. You seem to me like a much better person than she is. I knew that the other night when I first met all three of you. You aren't like her and Bunny. I could tell that you're genuinely upset by what happened to Daisy.”

“I am! It isn't fair! It's an awful thing to do to somebody, and I don't care what Tiffy says—it's because she was jealous of Daisy over her getting that part on the TV show.”

“I know it is. She's just jealous.”

“She's like that. So spiteful! She'll pretend to be your friend, but if you cross her in any way, she gets back at you.”

“Like she did Daisy.”

Kiki nodded. “Yes. And even though she has everything,
everything
, if you get anything she wants, she hates you for it. And she'll find some way to punish you.”

“Like she did Daisy.”

“Yes. Like this thing with Daisy.”

Savannah's heart was pounding so hard she could hardly hear what the girl was saying for the pulse throbbing in her ears. This was it. She had her right where she wanted her.

“It wasn't fair, what she did to Daisy,” Savannah prompted her. “Daisy didn't deserve it.”

“No, she didn't. I told Tiffy, ‘That's not funny. It's no joke. It's an awful thing to do to somebody' but she said—”

“What's going on in here?”

They both jumped and turned around to see Tiffany standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips and Old Testament wrath on her face.

It was all Savannah could do not to swear and reach for something to smash…like Tiffany Dante.

So close
, she thought.
Hell-fire and damnation! I was so close!

“What are you doing in my home again?” she demanded of Savannah. And to Kiki, she said, “And what are you telling her? A bunch of stupid, filthy lies about me?”

Tiffany ran across the small room and grabbed Savannah's arms. “Get out of here!” she shouted as she pulled Savannah to her feet. “Get off my property this very minute! How dare you after what you did to me today! Kidnapping me! Dragging me out of my house like that! And in front of
cameras
, too! You made a fool out of me. Get out! Get out!”

She kept tugging, yanking, her nails digging into Savannah's hands and arms.

Savannah didn't budge. For her, it was like being attacked by a small, bothersome child.

The nails were getting a bit irritating, though.

Calmly, she said, “Take your hands off me this minute, or I swear, I will lay you out on this floor. And you won't be getting up without help. Do you understand me?”

Apparently, Tiffany did understand because she instantly released Savannah and stood there, huffing and puffing from the exertion.

Finally, she recovered her breath enough to yell, “This is my house! Get out of my house, or I'm going to call the cops on you!”

Savannah decided not to mention that there was already a cop on the premises, one who was upstairs, probably going through her closets at that very minute.

“Let's be accurate with our facts here,” Savannah said. “Technically, this is not
your
house. It's your father's house and your stepmother's. And I have permission to be here, so—”

“You do not have my father's permission! No way he would let you in here. He's going to hate you when he finds out the things you did to me in that old car. As soon as his plane lands in London, he'll pick up his phone messages, and he's going to hear the awful, hateful things you accused me of. How you threatened me with physical violence and—”

“Whoa, whoa! Hold on there. What threats of physical violence?”

Tiffany stammered and sputtered for a moment, then flipped her hair back over her shoulder and said, “Well, you know, the seat belt thing.”

Savannah laughed at her. “Oh, right. I did threaten to physically restrain you with a seat belt in a moving vehicle. I'll probably get the needle for that one.”

“Well, you shouldn't have insulted me like that. My dad is going to sue your asses off the minute he gets back from London, or maybe even before. Nobody treats me the way you two did today and gets away with it. You just wait and see what happens to you!”

Tiffany turned on her friend, who was still sitting at the table, crying, her hands over her eyes. “And what were you telling her just now? You're just a filthy, ungrateful, rotten liar. That's what you are! If you were telling her lies about me, my dad's going to sue you, too. After all I've done for you, and you turn on me! You're going to get it, too.”

Kiki didn't reply but continued to sob uncontrollably.

“Yeah, yeah, we'll see what horrible fate befalls those who dare to ruffle
your
feathers,” Savannah said.

Her flippancy enraged Tiffany that much more. “I'm calling the cops. That's all there is to it,” she said, spinning around and stomping back toward the kitchen.

But Robyn was standing in the doorway, blocking her. “They have my permission to be here,” she said softly but firmly. “I invited them in.”

Tiffany exploded. “Oh, you did, huh? Well, that just figures! My dad leaves, and what do you do? You—”

“Act like the mistress of my own home. Yes. I did.” Robyn locked eyes with her stepdaughter, and it occurred to Savannah that maybe Robyn Dante wasn't the meek little mouse she appeared to be at first glance.

“And you,” Robyn continued, “will settle down and answer this woman's questions about your missing friend or—”

“I will not! She—”

“Or leave this room. Now. Which is it going to be?” Robyn stepped to the left, clearing the doorway should Tiffany decide to make an exit.

But before Tiffany could make her move, they heard a scream—a loud, terrible scream—coming from near the pool.

And then another and another and another.

“Oh my God!” Robyn said. “What is that?”

Even Tiffany froze in her tirade.

Kiki stopped crying and jumped to her feet.

Savannah ran for the door that led to the patio, flung it open, and raced outside.

She had heard screams like that before. Quite a few times, in fact. And she knew a shriek like that meant one of two things: either somebody was dead, or someone was about to be.

Automatically, her hand went to her Beretta, but she didn't pull the weapon. She scanned the scene, trying to take in everything at once.

The kidney-shaped swimming pool, dyed blood-red like the fountain, was in front of her. The pool lights shining through the red liquid gave the whole scene a sinister, surreal crimson glow.

And surrounding the pool on all sides were more grotesque displays, like the ones in the front yard and the rest of the house: bodies, monsters, coffins, and assorted torture devices.

But the only moving figure was the one on the opposite side of the pool.

It was Bunny.

Dressed in a bright pink halter top and shorts, she was jumping up and down—indeed, like a rabbit—waving her arms wildly, and screaming, screaming screaming.

Savannah ran around the pool, weaving her way through the gore, until she reached the distraught girl.

She grabbed her by the upper arms and turned her to face her. “What is it?” she said. “Bunny! Stop it. What's wrong?”

The girl kept flailing her arms and shrieking hysterically. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

Savannah was aware of the others behind her. Of Robyn asking what was wrong. But she had her hands full with the unhinged teenager.

She shook her hard, then put her hands on either side of Bunny's face to force her to look at her. “Bunny! Calm down, sugar! Settle down! Stop! Stop screaming!”

The girl focused for a moment and seemed to hear her. She was shaking violently.

“What is it?” Savannah asked, forcing her voice to be soft and soothing, even though she felt like shaking the girl's teeth out. “What's wrong, darlin'? Tell me what's the matter.”

Finally, Bunny turned and pointed to a nearby display of vampire gore. Two coffins, laid side by side, held male and female vampires. Dressed in traditional Gothic finery, the Dracula wannabe and his bride were lying in not so sweet repose, hands folded demurely, fangs sufficiently bloodied. And of course, the obligatory stakes driven into the centers of their chests.

Savannah wondered why this exhibit would strike such terror in Bunny's heart when all around, there were far more gruesome displays.

“Okay,” Savannah said, thinking briefly that maybe being in these sordid surroundings had unbalanced the girl's mind. “What's the big deal about them? They're—”

“Real! It's not fake! It's real!”

“What?”

“It's not fake. It's a real body!”

As Savannah ran to the coffins and knelt beside them, she had time for a hundred thoughts to race through her mind. But uppermost, hope that Bunny was wrong and these were dummies like all the rest. And wrestling with that hope, fear that they had found their missing Daisy.

She knelt beside the coffin and looked at the female form inside. It was a woman in a black leather corset, laced in the front with burgundy ties, and a long black velvet skirt.

Her black hair was divided neatly in the middle and flowed down past her waist.

Savannah studied her features carefully. Her face was gaunt, pinched, with sunken cheeks, and she had a pronounced widow's peak.