by Patricia Fry
"Absolutely not," she said. She reached out and grabbed Michael around the neck with one arm while cradling Lily in the other. "Why would I be, when my husband is so…hot?"
"Well, everyone else seems to be—attracted to him, I mean."
She smiled sweetly at her handsome husband. "Not me!"
"Okay, then." He glanced toward the door and said, "Let's go feed our baby."
"Together?" she asked.
"I'm not letting either of you out of my sight today."
Half an hour later, Savannah handed the sleeping baby to an eager Colbi, saying, "I can put her in her stroller, Colbi."
"When I have perfectly good arms to cuddle her?" Colbi said.
"Keep a good eye on her," Michael said before taking Savannah's hand and leading her to the food table.
Soon the barbecue feast was all but devoured. James and Crank began picking up the paper plates, and two large trays of cookies were uncovered.
"This is quite a set-up you have here," Savannah said to Crank. She leaned toward him and said quietly, "I could do without a porta-potty in my yard, though."
Crank winked. "It's better than the alternative, don'tcha think? Ya don't want these people usin' your facilities all day and night."
"Well, maybe you're right." She looked across the tent and saw that Colbi still held her sleeping cherub, and she walked over to her. "Do you want me to take her?" she asked.
Colbi smiled brightly, pushing strands of her long brown hair over one shoulder. "Not really. She's such a sweet armful."
"Boy, you've got it bad, don't you, Colbi?" Savannah said.
"What?" Colbi asked in innocence.
"You know what I mean, don't you, Iris?"
"Sure do," she said, a knowing smile on her lips. She looked affectionately at Colbi, "You, my dear, are ready to nest."
"Yes," Savannah said. "You're poised on the brink of nesting."
"But I'm not ready to have a baby. I haven't built my career, yet. Heck, I'm not even engaged."
"Tell your hormones that," Iris offered.
"Well, I sure do love this little bundle," Colbi admitted. "I can get my baby-fix by visiting her until all of my baby ducks are in a row."
"Sounds like a plan," Savannah said. She looked around. "Where's Damon?"
"He got called out." Her demeanor shifted as she said, "He sent a text earlier…said it's bad out there and he's worried about some of our homeless friends. Rumor is that not all of them left their camps when they were ordered to and they may be in danger."
Margaret, who was sitting across the table from the trio, asked Colbi, "How come you didn't get called out? You're a reporter just like Damon is."
"Oh, I believe they still think of me as the weaker sex," she said. "I'll tell you, I don't mind. I'd rather be here all cozy with all of you than out in this storm."
"Now I know she's in nesting mode," Iris said. "Something's wrong when our Colbi isn't up for an adventure."
"Ha-ha," Colbi responded good naturedly. "Maybe I'm just getting more cautious in my old age."
"Old!" Margaret and Iris exclaimed in unison.
Margaret looked at Iris, "Do you remember when we were pushing thirty-five? Did you consider yourself old?"
"Hell, I can't remember. That was—what—over twenty years ago?"
"Get out of my face, you fat witch!!"
"Make me, or are those ugly fake boobs of yours in the way?"
All eyes turned toward the commotion and saw Julie and Cheryl facing off. Just as Julie reached for a handful of Cheryl's thick, black hair, Crank grabbed her arms and held them behind her. Rob rushed to stand between the two women. "Hey, that's enough, you alley cats. You want to scuffle, do it on your own turf, don't be bringing it here," Rob said. "Crank, take her out and cool her off, will ya?" Rob grabbed Cheryl's wrist. "You come with me."
Julie yelled, "Are you crazy? It's raining out there!"
"Sure is," Crank said, as he grabbed his raincoat and ushered her outside.
"Now what's the problem?" Rob asked Cheryl.
She avoided eye contact. "I don't know, she's crazy, that's all…and jealous."
"Well, you two stay away from each other, you hear? I don't want any more trouble from either of you." He took hold of Cheryl's arm and squeezed. "Got it?" he said through gritted teeth.
"Yeah," she said, jerking her arm from his grip. "I got it. Just keep her away from me."
"I apologize for that," Rob said as he approached the stunned onlookers.
"What happened?" Margaret asked.
"Heck if I know—chick stuff."
"Are they always like that?" Iris asked.
He took in a breath. "Well, it's actually the first time they've worked together. They both seem to have a burr under their saddles. I don't know what's going on, but I won't have them working on the same job again."
"Looked like a jealous rage to me," Margaret offered. "Must be a male involved."
"Huh? Those two after the same guy?" Rob scoffed. "I can't imagine." He scanned the group with his eyes and added, "You can't take everything you see here seriously. When you work closely together like we do, you become family—brothers and sisters. There are bound to be clashes and disagreements, especially among the more creative people." He chuckled, "And when they're drinking, even more so." He paused before saying, "Sometimes I feel like a parent trying to keep peace in a dysfunctional family."
****
The next morning, Savannah was up first. "Good morning, sunshine," she murmured as she lifted Lily out of her portable crib next to their bed.
"The sun's shining?" Michael asked, yawning and stretching.
Savannah walked over to the window and pushed the drapes to one side. "Well, it's kind of early to tell, but it looks like a clear sky out there—so yeah, maybe it will be sunshiny today."
"Good," Michael said as he crawled out of bed and joined her and Lily at the window. "Look at all that water. Puddles everywhere," he said.
Savannah let the heavy drapes drop back into place. "Yeah, it sure did rain last night. I bet the sound of it on that metal RV kept Crank and James awake."
"They're probably used to it," Michael said as he headed toward the bathroom. "They live in that thing, you know."
"No, I didn't know that." Before he could enter the bathroom, Savannah said, "Are you going to take a shower?"
"Yes, okay with you?"
"Sure. I'll go start the coffee after I change Lily."
"Aren't you going to feed her?"
"She ate a little while ago, so no, not for another few hours."
Once in the kitchen, Savannah placed the baby in her cradle swing and started to make the coffee. Just then, Lexie stepped out of her bed near the side kitchen door and began staring at the doorknob. "You want out, huh? Okay, come on."
Just minutes earlier, Crank and James had stepped outside their travel trailer for a smoke. They'd barely had time to enjoy the rain-washed morning air when Lexie bounded down the porch steps. Savannah stood at the kitchen door keeping watch over the Afghan-mix dog. She waved at the two men, calling out, "Coffee will be ready in a minute."
When Lexie didn't return right away, Savannah walked out onto the wrap-around porch and peered along the south side of the house. "What does Lexie have?" she asked.
That's when Crank slowly lifted his bulky frame from the lawn chair and ambled toward the barking dog. James, a wiry young man well into his twenties, reached Lexie's side first. Crank arrived just seconds later. He stared down through bloodshot eyes under bushy white brows. Running one hand over his full beard, he muttered, "Well, hell."
"Is she dead?" James asked, his voice quivering.
Crank nodded. "Yeah, she's dead, all right."
"What is it?" Savannah called from the porch, not wanting to walk across the wet grass in her slippers.
"Uh…ma'am," Crank said, "you'd better go get your husband, and call your dog, would ya?"
"What's wrong?" Savannah asked, not one to be sen
t away from a problem.
Crank walked over to where Savannah stood and said more quietly, "There's been an accident, ma'am. Someone's been hurt. We need to call emergency."
Savannah looked at what appeared to be a pile of clothes draped across the rock edging next to the foundation of the house. Her heart began to race. She called Lexie and the two of them stepped into the kitchen. After picking Lily up out of the infant swing, she rushed to the bedroom with the baby in her arms. "Michael! Michael!" she called, as she entered the room. When she saw him coming from the bathroom, shaving cream on his face, she said, "Someone's been hurt." She hugged Lily to her, burying her face in the baby's neck. Barely able to say it, she blurted quietly, "I think someone's dead out there."
"What? Who? Out where?" Michael asked, his usual calm demeanor obviously unraveling.
"I don't know." She placed the baby in the middle of their bed and grabbed the phone. "I have to call 9-1-1."
Fifteen minutes later, Rob entered the kitchen, DeeDee and Raymond on his heels. "What's going on?" he asked. "I heard sirens."
"Look, there are cop cars outside," DeeDee said. "What happened?"
The Iveys glanced at one another from across the table, unsure of what to say. Finally, Michael blew out a long breath, and said, "There's been an accident."
Savannah held Lily close, pressing her lips to the top of her head.
"What sort of accident?" Rob asked as he headed for the kitchen door that led outside. "Is someone hurt?"
"It looks that way," Michael said. "They've asked us to stay inside for now."
Rob, feeling responsible for the crew, walked from window to window, trying to get a look at what was taking place outside. "Crap, one of my people might be hurt. I'm going out there," he announced before darting out the door.
"What happened?" Lance asked as he entered the room wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
"Someone's been hurt," DeeDee said. "We don't know who, yet. I guess it wasn't you or Rob or us." Suddenly, she said, panic in her voice, "Where's Cheryl?"
"Right here," came a voice from behind them. "Who wants to know?" she asked, pulling her hair up in a knot on top of her head. She stretched and yawned, her crop-top inching up and showing her taut, tanned midriff.
"So we're all accounted for except Crank, James, and Julie, right?" DeeDee asked.
Cheryl dropped her hands and looked around, confused. "Why are we counting noses?"
"Someone's been hurt," DeeDee said. "The police are here."
"Oh, I see that," she said, straining to peer out through the large window.
Just then, Rob stepped back into the house, a somber look on his face. "It's Julie," he said, disbelieving.
DeeDee gasped and put her hands to her mouth. "She's out there?"
"Yes. Looks like she may have fallen from the upstairs window and landed on a pile of rocks."
"Pile of rocks?" Savannah questioned.
"Well, a rock border."
"Oh my God," Cheryl said, now looking somewhat weak-kneed.
"Why do you care?" Lance spat. "You hate her guts."
She scowled at him, pulled out a chair, and sat down at the kitchen table.
"Can I get you a cup of coffee, Cheryl?" Savannah offered, quickly standing and moving toward the coffee pot.
"I can get it," she said. "Thanks."
Rap-rap.
"It's Craig," Savannah said. She stood closest to the door, so she reached over and opened it. "Hi Craig." She grimaced and said, "Sorry to bring you out on such a muddy morning."
"Yeah, it is muddy. I left my boots on the porch. Hope you don't mind my stocking feet."
"I prefer them to your muddy feet," she quipped, failing at her attempt to lighten the mood. "So what's going on out there, Craig?" she asked, her demeanor somber.
"I'm afraid we have a body," he said. He hesitated in order to allow the news to sink in before he continued.
Even though she'd expected that the person out there was dead, it was still difficult for Savannah to hear. She moved toward where Michael now stood at the counter and laid her head on his shoulder. He reached over and took Lily from her, put one arm around her, and pulled her close.
In the meantime, Rob collapsed into the nearest chair and held his head in his hands. DeeDee buried her face into her husband's chest. Raymond embraced her and looked straight ahead, staring into space. Lance stood in place against the doorjamb, looking down at his shoes, and Cheryl held her coffee mug in front of her, peering into the black liquid.
Detective Craig Sledge observed the demeanor of each individual before saying, "I want to look around upstairs. Everyone stay down here until I give you the okay to return to your rooms." He opened the kitchen door and called out, "Gonzalez, I'm ready for you. Bring Conklin, would you?"
Once the other two men had entered the kitchen, also in stocking feet, Craig led them up the staircase. He returned fifteen minutes later and announced, "I'd like each of you to come up one at a time and identify your belongings," he said. "Some of it we're going to take as evidence."
When they called for Cheryl, she explained that she didn't sleep upstairs—nothing of hers was up there. Ramon Gonzalez accompanied her to the nursery where he examined her belongings.
DeeDee was the last one to return from upstairs. "Gosh, I've never been through anything like this before," she said, her eyes wide.
"Like the rest of us have?" Cheryl snapped.
"Okay, you're free to pack your things," Craig said upon reentering the kitchen. "Those bags Gonzalez is carrying contain possible evidence. We'll let you know when it's released. If we have anything of yours, you can pick it up then."
"When will that be?" Rob asked, watching Gonzalez and Conklin exit the kitchen with two large bags.
"It could be weeks or months," Craig said. He pulled a pad out of his jacket pocket, flipped through the pages, and said, "Okay, I've taken statements from the men who discovered the body…Mr. Tibbets and Mr. Crankshaw. I'll need to speak privately with each of you. Michael, can I set up somewhere in here?"
Michael thought for a moment and then addressed everyone, "Why don't we get our coffee or juice and take it into the living room? Craig, you can use the kitchen table."
Savannah took a deep breath. "We have sweet rolls, too, and muffins. You all get settled and I'll bring them in."
"I can help," DeeDee offered.
Savannah stared at her for a moment—her mind a million miles away. Finally, she said, "Thank you. Napkins are in the buffet in the dining room…paper plates and silverware, too. I'll get the cream and sugar and we'll bring the coffee pot into the dining room. Oh, and I have a bowl of cut-up fruit." Before leaving the kitchen, she asked Craig, "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
"I'll get it," he said. He then turned to Rob. "I'd like to talk to you first, if you don't mind."
****
Nearly two hours later, Craig sauntered into the living room where Michael and Savannah rested. Lily slept nearby in her cradle swing.
"So how did it go?" Michael asked, opening his eyes and raising his head off the back of the sofa. Savannah, who had dozed under a throw in the overstuffed chair, sat up and put her feet on the floor.
"No work today?" Craig asked when he saw Michael.
Michael shook his head. "I may go in later."
The detective walked over to the cradle swing and stared down at Lily. "So innocent," he said. "The world needs more innocence." He touched Lily's cheek and smiled.
"Please tell us that Julie fell to her death," Savannah begged.
Craig stared into her face. "Would it make this any easier for you?"
Savannah dropped her head. "No, probably not," she said.
"So what do you think happened?" Michael asked.
Craig tightened his lips into a thin line. "We'll know for sure after the autopsy, but I think she was dead before she went out the window."
"Good lord," Michael said. "So what did you find out during your interrogations?"
The detective glanced at Michael and then Savannah. "Well, I haven't talked to either of you, yet." He flipped open his notebook. "…but here's what I know so far, Lance heard someone come up the stairs in the middle of the night. Cheryl said she didn't leave her room all night, except once, to get a drink of water in the kitchen. And she thought she heard scuffling on the second floor above her. DeeDee heard something outside their bedroom door, but when she went to take a look, all she saw was your cat. Raymond slept through everything and so did Rob. Neither Rob nor Lance were aware if the other one had gotten up in the night. Both of them said they slept like logs."
"And the two guys outside; did they see or hear anything?" Savannah asked.
"Naw, I doubt it. If they did, they ain't talkin'."
Michael stood. "I'm thirsty. Anyone want a glass of tea or water?"
"Tea sounds great," Craig said, following Michael toward the kitchen. "Thanks."
Savannah stood and began picking up the trays of fruit and sweet rolls.
"Let me help," Craig said, as he reached for a tray of small paper plates, silverware, and napkins. Michael stopped at the buffet on his way into the kitchen and snagged as many coffee cups as he could carry.
"Thanks, guys," Savannah said. She set the trays on the counter and headed back into the living room for Lily.
Michael stepped closer to the large kitchen window. "Looks like the film crew is getting ready to leave," he said. He turned to Craig. "Okay if they leave town?"
Craig nodded. "I know where to find them."
Just then, they heard a rap on the door. Michael called out, "It's Maggie and Max."
"I wondered how long it would take her to get over here," Savannah said as she placed the cradle swing next to the table in the kitchen. "She never misses a party…" She choked up. "...or a tragedy."
"Michael, what happened?" Margaret asked as she rushed through the door. "I saw all the cop cars." She gasped in a panic, "The baby's okay, isn't she?"
"She's fine," Michael assured her. "We're all fine."
"Well, when I opened the drapes and saw the emergency vehicles, I got scared. I made Max come over here with me."
"I told her someone probably partied too hearty," Max said.