Lying at the edge of the hearth, broken into several pieces, was the pale green, cut-crystal, champagne glass that she had seen him drinking from earlier. It looked to her as though it might have been dropped, rolled toward the fireplace, and broken on the marble hearth.
That needs to be bagged for evidence, the detective’s voice in her head stated. Quite firmly.
It was a voice that Savannah had heard countless times over the years. One she had come to respect and obey whenever possible. So far, it had never led her astray. In fact, more than once, it had literally saved her life.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t saved her career as a detective sergeant with the San Carmelita Police Department, working alongside Dirk.
Years back, her badge had been taken from her. Not because she was a bad cop, but because she had investigated people in high places and, when threatened, had refused to stop.
But, thankfully, her husband still had his badge, and she needed to speak to him, as quickly as possible.
Something wrong had just occurred in this house, among the folks who were standing around, their drinks still in their hands, wearing expressions that ranged from horrified to mildly curious.
She could feel it.
People were going to start to leave soon, if they weren’t already. Critical evidence could be destroyed in the process—accidentally or intentionally.
She debated whether to remain with Carolyn, holding her hand and trying to comfort her, versus walking away and phoning Dirk.
She searched Brody’s worried little face and felt two people warring inside her. The detective who sensed something terribly amiss in the Erling household and wanted to investigate it, and the mother, who felt the need to “be there” for the child in her care.
To her enormous relief, at that moment she saw Dirk walk through the front door. He glanced around, obviously looking for her. When he spotted her, he immediately began to push through the crowd, making his way toward his wife.
He gave only a quick glance at the body on the floor before rushing to her and kneeling next to the ottoman where she sat.
“You okay?” he asked, searching her face.
She nodded as he reached up and pushed her sweat-damp curls out of her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I’m glad you came back though. Perfect timing, in fact.”
He looked over at Brody. “You all right, too, partner?” he asked with equal concern.
Brody looked as happy to see him as Savannah was. “Sure.” The boy gave Carolyn a quick, sideways look and added, “I mean, we’re mighty sad, but nobody’s hurt, ’cept him.”
Dirk turned his attention to the body on the floor and stared at it a few moments.
Savannah watched as her husband, with his detective’s keen eyes, studied the corpse, then its immediate surroundings. She knew when he spotted the broken glass.
He turned back to her and gave her a questioning look. She nodded ever so slightly.
“So, that’s Dr. Stephen Erling,” he said, his voice much softer than his usual gruff, cop tone.
Carolyn nodded and sniffed. Savannah dropped the woman’s hand long enough to dig into her handbag for a tissue.
“I’m really sorry, ma’am,” Dirk told Carolyn as she dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose.
“Thank you, Detective,” she whispered, her soft words getting lost in the low rumble of the crowd’s conversations.
“He hadn’t been sick or nothin’!” Brody piped up, his eyes wide. “Healthy as a horse. But he just up and keeled over dead!”
Savannah gulped and thought, Ah, the painfully awkward, blunt, honesty of youth.
She started to chastise Brody, but before she could think of how to frame it in a way that was kind, Carolyn spoke. “Yes, Brody,” she said. “You’re right. He was fine. Until the moment when he . . . wasn’t.”
Dirk looked Savannah over, her wet hair and face, her crumpled dress. Then he glanced down at the psychiatrist, who was now sitting up, but was wearing an oxygen mask, provided by the EMTs.
“Let me guess,” Dirk said to Savannah. “You gave mouth-to-mouth while he did the compressions.”
She nodded.
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes. At least.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
Dirk looked around at the crowd, then once more scanned the room itself: the furniture, the floor, the broken glass lying next to the marble hearth.
Rising, he said, “I think I’d better get to work here. Dr. Carolyn, I need to speak to a few of your guests, just get their names and contact numbers. Stuff like that.”
“Okay,” she said. “Whatever you feel you need to do.”
“Would it be okay if you and Brody went to another part of the house for a while?” he asked. “Maybe to your bedroom or wherever you’d be the most comfortable?”
“There’s a study down the hall,” Carolyn told him, pointing toward a door on the opposite side of the room. “It’s my favorite place. My ‘safe’ place.”
“Then go there. Rest. Try to relax if you can.” Dirk turned to Brody. “Is that all right with you, son?”
Brody nodded vigorously. “Sure it is. I’ll take good care of her for you. I promise.”
Dirk offered Carolyn his hand and helped her to her feet. “If you need anything at all, just have Brody come get one of us, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Brody grabbed Carolyn’s arm and holding it tightly, led her through the door she had indicated.
Savannah watched and noted that not one guest attempted to reach out to Carolyn as she passed close to them, not even to offer her the smallest comfort or condolence. Something told Savannah that those present at this gathering were Stephen Erling’s people, not his wife’s.
Although none of them seemed particularly grief-stricken at his departure. Other than the initial screams she had heard from the backyard, they were behaving as though it was just your standard cocktail birthday party.
With a bit of unorthodox entertainment to go with the cognac-seasoned barbecue wings.
Chapter 11
Eventually, when Savannah, Dirk, and Brody returned to their own house, they were all exhausted.
They also had an overnight guest with them.
As Dirk pulled the Buick into their driveway, Savannah turned around in the front passenger’s seat. She said to Carolyn, who was sitting in the back next to Brody, “I’m so glad you decided to come home with us.”
“I should have just stayed,” Carolyn replied. “Or gone to a hotel. I hate putting you out like this.”
“You couldn’t have stayed,” Dirk told her.
Carolyn was silent a moment, then said, “Why not? I don’t understand. No matter what happened, it’s still my home.”
“I’m sorry to say, your place is a potential crime scene now,” he replied. “You can go back once it’s been processed.”
“Crime scene?” Carolyn looked shocked. “Why? What crime?”
Savannah thought fast. She wanted to be gentle to this newly widowed lady. At least, more gentle than Dirk, which Savannah figured shouldn’t be too hard.
She wanted to spare Brody, too. Precocious as he might be, he was very young to have witnessed what he had that day.
Stephen Erling dying was bad enough for the two of them to process without adding “possible homicide” to the mix.
Savannah took a deep breath and plunged in, using her softest, most sensitive and sympathetic Southern drawl. “You see, anytime a young, healthy person dies, suddenly like that, there has to be an investigation. Everyone wants to know what happened. To understand how and why he passed.”
When Carolyn didn’t answer, Savannah continued. “Especially you, Carolyn. You deserve to know why your husband was taken from you like that. No one can bring him back, but it may give you some peace of mind to know exactly what happened.”
“I understand the need for autopsies and coroners’ reports, but why can’t I stay in my home?�
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“’Cause if it turns out that his death was foul play, the CSU has to go over it with a fine-tooth comb, find out who done it, so’s we can nail ’em,” Dirk interjected, without a trace of sensitive Southern drawl and precious little sympathy.
Savannah cringed and thought, not for the first time, that Dirk would be far happier living on a desert island. As long as he had a handful of his favorite people, the cats, cold beer, and a TV to watch his favorite sports, he would have been perfectly happy.
She doubted society would miss him all that much either.
“It’s just a routine part of the investigation, Carolyn,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.”
“How long will it be until I can go home?”
“Not too long,” Savannah told her. “Meanwhile, you’re welcome to stay with us.”
“You ain’t puttin’ nobody out,” Brody added. “At least, if that means causin’ problems or makin’ a nuisance of yourself, you won’t be. We’re happy to have you. Di and Cleo will be glad to see you, too.”
Carolyn smiled down at him and shook her head. “I doubt that. Most of my patients run when they see me. I’m the one who examines their owwies and sticks needles and thermometers in them. I’m usually their least favorite person on Earth.”
“That’s not true,” Brody said. “Everybody loves you. Especially critters. We’re lucky you’re stayin’ with us. I wanna show you my room. You get to sleep in it tonight. It used to be Dirk’s man cave, but he gave it to me! It’s pretty cool. It’s got a big, round baseball rug and Dodgers stuff everywhere ’cause me and Dirk, we’re big-time Dodgers fans.”
“I can’t take your bed, Brody.” Carolyn leaned forward and said to Savannah, “Seriously. I didn’t realize I’d be kicking him out of his bedroom, or I would have—”
“I sleep on the couch a lot,” Brody insisted. “Ever’ time Granny comes over, I give her my bed, and I don’t care a lick.”
“He doesn’t,” Savannah assured her. “He really doesn’t.”
“I don’t.” Brody grinned broadly, his smile charming, if a bit gap-toothed, as he had been keeping the Tooth Fairy quite busy recently. “It’s fun when we have company that I like, and I like you. With all you been through, you oughta be with people who like you, what with your husband fallin’ down dead all of a sudden thata way.”
Again, Savannah cringed at his childish candor.
But Carolyn seemed to take it in stride. Softly, graciously, she replied, “Thank you, Brody. I’ll never forget your kindness and your family’s efforts to help me in my time of trouble.”
Savannah quickly added, “No one should be alone after a night like this. You’re always taking care of others, human and animal alike. Let us take care of you for a change, Carolyn. It’s our honor to do so.”
Casting a quick look at Dirk, Savannah saw that he seemed less enthused than Brody about having company for the night. Maybe even less pleased and willing than Savannah.
However, Dirk had been the one to suggest it, initially, there at the seaside mansion. No sooner had Carolyn retired to her study with Brody than Dirk had whispered to Savannah, “She stays someplace else tonight. With family or friends or at a hotel.”
“I don’t know if she has friends or family in the area, and being alone in a hotel when your husband just died . . . that seems a bit cold and lonely,” Savannah had replied.
“Okay. If necessary, she comes home with us. As soon as I’ve got all these people’s names and numbers, they’re outta here, and I’m sealing it up. As far as I’m concerned, this place is off-limits to civilians until Dr. Liu and CSU tells me otherwise.”
But now, whether it had been his idea or not, Dirk seemed to be having misgivings about their overnight guest. Savannah made a mental note that, as soon as she could get him alone, she’d be sure to ask why.
The four of them got out of the car and made their way along Savannah’s newly laid stone walkway to the front door. The rockwork had been one of numerous gifts from her sister’s rich and famous fiancé.
Savannah was finding out there were many perks to having one of the world’s most popular movie stars in the family. Little Alma was the envy of millions of Ethan Malloy’s fans, marrying a guy who had been chosen “The Handsomest Man in the World.”
A flood of guilt swept over Savannah when she recalled all the sisterly, maid-of-honor, wedding duties she had been neglecting lately. It wasn’t easy, maintaining her old life while taking on this whole new one as a mom.
Now, just to make things more complicated, she was front and center in what might be a murder case.
One day at a time, old girl, she told herself as they reached the front door. One hour or even minute, if it comes to that.
As Dirk turned his key in the door lock, Carolyn looked up at the matching bougainvillea vines that graced both sides of the door. They began in their oversized terra-cotta pots, hugged the frame, left and right, and intertwined at the top.
“How beautiful,” Carolyn said. “What a colorful and inviting sight to welcome you home.”
“They’re named Bogey and Ilsa,” Savannah told her. “I planted them the first day I moved in. They’ve been growing ever since.”
Carolyn thought it over for a moment. “That’s sweet. Some couples are just meant to be together.” In a voice that sounded rather sad and wistful to Savannah, she added, “While others aren’t.”
Dirk opened the door, then stood back for the women and Brody to enter. Savannah ushered Carolyn inside and flipped on the foyer light. At their feet was the household’s usual welcoming party, the two, ebony mini-panthers, Diamante and Cleopatra.
They mewed their joy at their humans’ return, until they saw Dr. Carolyn. Black tails twitched, and in less than two seconds, the foyer was completely kitty-free.
“See. I told you,” Carolyn said as she slipped out of her sweater and handed it to Savannah, who folded it neatly and placed it on the top shelf of their coat closet.
Savannah took Dirk’s leather bomber jacket and Brody’s sweatshirt. As she put them away, as well, she asked Dirk, “Could you and Brody fetch us each a glass of iced tea from the fridge? I’ll make us something to eat in a minute, but I could use a refresher first.”
Dirk gave her a grateful smile but said, “Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll order some pizzas.” He looked at Carolyn, then down at the boy. “If that’s okay with Dr. Carolyn and Mr. Brody here.”
Everyone withheld their verdict as they waited for Carolyn’s, which she delivered without hesitation. “Whatever everyone else wants is fine with me. I doubt I can eat anyway. But refreshing tea sounds good.”
“I’ve gotta warn you, it’s sweet tea,” Savannah said.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from a Georgia-born lady,” Carolyn replied.
“Okay. Tea comin’ up,” Dirk said as he and Brody took off for the kitchen.
As soon as the guys were gone, Savannah reached into her purse and pulled out her Beretta.
She saw Carolyn give it a double take, but she didn’t appear to be upset at the sight of a firearm, as some folks were.
“Sorry,” Savannah said. “I want to put it away while the boy’s in the other room. He’s the inquisitive sort, so I keep it up here.”
She reached to the top of the closet and punched in the numbered code of the small safe she and Dirk had installed once they began to entertain children in the household.
“Good idea,” Carolyn said as Savannah stowed the weapon inside, closed the door, and tried the handle to make certain it was locked. “You can’t be too careful with any child, let alone one as spirited and curious as Mr. Brody Greyson . . . as he likes to call himself.”
“Isn’t it a hoot how he always introduces himself that way?” Savannah said. “I take it as a good sign. A strong sense of himself.”
“Oh, he has that, all right, and with you two taking care of him, he’ll only grow more of it.”
Savannah flushed with pleasur
e at the praise. She hadn’t been at this mothering business long enough to garner many reviews.
Carolyn’s words were more reassuring than Savannah might have expected them to be. Carolyn Erling was, after all, an intelligent woman and a close friend of Brody’s, having known him even longer than Savannah and Dirk had.
“Thank you,” Savannah told her, as she led her from the foyer into the living room. “I’m glad to hear it. I know he thinks the world of you. Letting him hang out there at the clinic like you do means so much to him. He’d rather hose the poop out of your outdoor enclosures than go to Disneyland.”
Carolyn chuckled, but it was a hollow sound, as though she was forcing it. “That’s high praise, indeed,” she said. “Thank you. I love having him there. He’s a fun little guy to be around, and he’s a hard worker, too. Does a good job for me.”
“I heard that!” Brody said as he came bounding out of the kitchen, holding a frosty glass of iced tea in each hand. “You’re talkin’ about me in here.”
“We are, indeedy,” Savannah told him as she nodded toward Carolyn, indicating he should serve their guest first, before her. “Dr. Carolyn here is telling me that, there at the clinic, you thump the dogs’ ears and tweak the cats’ tails.”
“I most certainly do not!”
Savannah had assumed he would know she was teasing, but on second thought, she realized Mr. Brody Greyson wasn’t the sort to joke about thumping or tweaking animals.
Considering that he, himself, had been on the receiving end of physical mistreatment, Savannah couldn’t blame him.
“As a matter of fact,” he said, “if I caught wind of somebody doin’ such a thing, I’d thump their ears and tweak their tail-ends for them! We’d see how they liked it!”
Savannah reached down, put her hand under his chin, and lifted his face so he was looking into her eyes. “Brody, I apologize. That was a dumb joke, and if I’d thought about it twice before saying it, I’d never let it fly out of my mouth like that. Do you forgive me?”
A Few Drops of Bitters Page 7