Wicked Craving Read online

  “Yeah,” he said. “I must’ve strained something weeding my flower garden.”

  “The ornamental Japanese garden that surrounds your trailer there at the park?”

  “Yeap. The one with all the water lilies and the koi pond…between the hedge maze and the grotto with the marble Grecian statues.”

  “Smart aleck.”

  “I noticed you were limping a little when you came out to the car. What’s up with you?”

  “Charley horse.”

  “In both legs?”

  “Yeah. Rotten luck, huh?”

  “It bites to be you.”

  “It does.”

  As he turned into a neighborhood, not far from hers, she said, “Karen Burns lives around here?”

  “Yeah, with her mother. They run a daycare center together. G & K Tot Heaven.”

  “G & K?”

  He shrugged. “That new gal at the front desk has her limitations. She was overly impressed with herself that she’d come up with the address at all.”

  When they approached the corner property with its high, chain-link fence, Savannah looked at the faded toys in the yard and questioned the appropriateness of the establishment’s name.

  “Heaven?” she said, pointing out the broken swing set and the sliding board that lay on its side on the ground. Dirty toys were strewn about in mud puddles where grass had once grown. “This place is depressing. I wouldn’t leave my cats in here, let alone a child.”

  “That’s because you’re a good mommy…even to your animals,” he said, giving her a sweet smile.

  For a moment she forgot about Hardbodies. But it was only for a moment. Then she said, “Thanks. How’s your shoulder?”

  He gave her a funny look. “It’s okay now. Comes and goes.”

  They pulled into the driveway of the supposed toddler paradise and got out of the car. Savannah had to step over rusted tricycle parts on her way up the sidewalk to the front door.

  After Dirk buzzed the button, they heard what sounded like a pack of wild coyotes yipping on the other side of the door.

  “Holy cow!” she said. “Sounds like they’re watching a passel of younguns in there. And not very well-behaved ones at that.”

  Eventually, the door opened and a big, no-nonsense-looking woman with steel gray hair and glasses with bright red frames stared through the torn screen at them. “Yeah?” she said.

  She was a tall, skinny woman—probably in her fifties. Her thin, straight hair was slicked back into a tight bun at the back of her neck. Her dowdy black sweatshirt and matching pants gave her an even more severe appearance. She looked like a scarecrow on its way to a casual funeral…except for the gaudy red glasses.

  In one arm she was holding a baby who looked to be about a year old. She was holding a toddler by the hand, and the little boy was throwing a total fit, screaming, pulling, trying to get away from her.

  Somehow, Savannah just knew this wasn’t Karen Burns, the siren who had seduced a celebrity doctor.

  “Hello,” Savannah said, “are you Gertrude Burns, Miss Karen Burns’s mother?”

  “Yes, I am. What do you want?”

  “Is Karen at home?” Savannah asked, showing the woman her private investigator’s ID.

  “She doesn’t have time to talk,” was the curt reply. “What do you want with her?”

  Dirk produced his badge. “We have to have a private word with Miss Burns. Would you please ask her to come to the door?”

  “Look, this is the middle of my work day and—” She stopped to yank on the screeching toddler’s hand. “You quit that before I give you a smack and set you in the corner, young man!”

  He settled down a bit, and she returned her attention to Savannah and Dirk. “Between the six kids I’m watching,” she said, “and my stupid daughter’s four brats, I’ve got my hands full.”

  “I can see that you do,” Savannah said, keeping her voice unusually calm for the boy’s sake, “and you should be more gentle with that child. You’ll dislocate his shoulder, snatching on him like that. And if you do, my buddy here will arrest you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

  “I’ll have you know, I’m a professional child-care provider!”

  “Then act like one,” Savannah said, her voice soft and even, though her eyes were blazing.

  Savannah opened the screen door, squatted down and held out her arms to the little boy. “Come here to Aunt Savannah, sugar plum,” she said. “Mrs. Burns has to go get Miss Karen…right away.”

  Gertrude Burns stood there, baby in arm, glaring at Savannah for a long time; then she turned briskly on her heel and stomped away.

  “How are you doing, little man?” Savannah asked the cherub with chocolate something smeared all over his mouth and cheeks.

  He answered her with a long sentence in nonsensical baby babble, to which she replied, “I know! You’re absolutely right, and I couldn’t agree more.”

  Looking up at Dirk, she saw a tender look cross his face…not that dissimilar from when he was petting one of her cats.

  “Cute kid,” he mumbled, a bit embarrassed to be caught being sweet.

  “All kids are cute,” she replied, “until they grow up and become human.” She brushed some of the boy’s wayward blond curls back from his eyes. “Don’t grow up, babycakes, you hear me? You stay sweet.”

  The toddler nodded and smiled.

  They heard the clicking of high heels coming toward them. And a moment later, a much younger, but equally thin and tall woman came to the door.

  Karen Burns resembled her mother in every way, except that her straight, dark hair hung nearly to her waist, and her tight, black, spandex-enriched dress was anything but dowdy. It hugged every curve, and Karen Burns was extremely curvaceous.

  Even down to the beginnings of a baby bump on her belly.

  So, at least the rumors of a pregnancy appeared to be true. Now whether it was truly Wellman’s or not…that would be determined later.

  “My mother says you want to talk to me?” Karen said.

  She gave Savannah a quick glance over, head to toe, as though sizing up her competition.

  The impromptu appraisal irritated Savannah. She always wondered about females who felt the need to evaluate every other woman’s clothes, hair, makeup, nails…and most important, their jewelry, within the first few seconds of meeting them.

  Like any of that made you a better person.

  She always had to resist pulling back her jacket and showing them her Beretta…just for effect.

  Not that wearing a 9mm made her any better, either, but, as accessories went, a gun was a good conversation piece—a lot more interesting than whether a gal’s nail tips were oval or squared.

  “Yes, we do want to talk to you,” Dirk said. “Can we come inside?”

  “I don’t want them in here,” Gertrude called out from some unseen location. “Don’t you let them come in this house unless they’ve got a warrant or something.”

  Karen sashayed over to the screen door, opened it a bit, and took the little boy from Savannah. “Run along, Stevie. Go see Grandma.”

  “Yeah, yeah, go see Grandma. Like Grandma’s not got enough to do around here,” complained the distant, but disturbingly audible, Gertrude. “Mommy’s too busy to take care of her own kids, as usual.”

  Karen rolled her eyes and gave Dirk a flirtatious little grin. “Isn’t he cute?” she said. “He’s my youngest. Well…except for this one.” She patted her belly. “I’ve got four boys already. I’m hoping for a girl this time. So is my fiancé. He said he’d love to have a girl that looks just like me.”

  Oh really? And has he seen his future mother-in-law yet? Savannah thought. But she kept it to herself. Instead, she asked, “And your fiancé’s name is…?”

  “She doesn’t have a fiancé!” Gertrude yelled. “You see a ring on her finger? No-o-o.”

  Gertrude made a brief appearance as she walked up behind Karen and gave her daughter a fairly hard jab in the ribs. “This on
e,” she said, “she got knocked up by some son of a bitch who’s married. Or who was married. Let’s see if he marries her now. I’ll betcha he won’t. That kind never does. Boy, you really know how to pick ’em. Four kids, four daddies, and not one husband.”

  “Leave me alone, Mom,” Karen snapped back. “These people are here to talk to me, not you. Get lost.”

  “See how she talks to her mother? Some respect, huh? But you notice she’s still living under my roof, eating my food, letting me take care of her brats.”

  “I help you, Mom. I contribute.”

  “Yeah, you and your high heels and lipstick. A lot you can accomplish wearing that crap. You’d make more money standing out there on the street corner in that outfit. Except that you’re too fat. Nobody would want you. That’s why that doctor won’t marry you. Doctors are rich. They can afford to have pretty wives.”

  Savannah watched as the feeble light in Karen Burns’s eyes flickered and went out. Apparently, her mother’s vicious words had finally found their mark—the very center of her heart. And that was hardly surprising.

  Savannah had found that abusers instinctively have very accurate aim.

  Savannah glanced up and down Karen’s slender figure, and while the daughter was maybe five or ten pounds heavier than her mother, she could hardly be classified as “fat” by any reasonable measure.

  Dirk turned to Savannah and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve enjoyed about as much of this as I can stand. Let’s wind this up.” Then to Karen, he said, “Just tell me two quick things, Ms. Burns. Is that Dr. Wellman’s baby that you’re carrying there?”

  She put her hand to her belly and patted it lovingly. “Of course she’s his. The doctor and I have been in love for a long time now. We’re going to be married soon.” She glanced over her shoulder, but her mother appeared to have left the area. “I just have to lose some weight first, so that I’ll look good in a wedding gown. I have one all picked out, but it won’t look right unless I drop another twenty pounds. So, I’m going to this other doctor, Bonnie Saperstein, who does the same hypnosis thing. Robert said it would be better if he and I didn’t see each other right now, you know…what with Maria getting killed and you cops snooping around, and…”

  She seemed to realize she’d said too much and snapped her mouth closed, a bit like a frog that had just caught a big, juicy fly.

  “Okay,” Dirk said, “and one more thing. Where were you the night Maria Wellman was killed?”

  She grinned and tossed her head. “I was with Robert.”

  “No,” Savannah said. “You weren’t. He was attending a charity ball with his wife. Lots of people saw him there with her.”

  Karen giggled. “Not all night, he wasn’t. He left the ball and went to the Island View Hotel, that really nice one on the beach. We have our favorite suite there. He spent most of the night with me, talking about the baby, making plans for our wedding.”

  “You were making plans for a wedding while he was still married?” Savannah asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “He said he was going to lay down the law to her, demand a divorce that night—just as soon as he got home!”

  “And to your knowledge, did he?” Dirk asked.

  “I guess not. I called him the next morning, and he said he couldn’t find her anywhere. That must have been before that jogger on the beach found her body.”

  “So, where do things stand now with you and Dr. Wellman?” Savannah said.

  For the first time, Karen’s cocky smile faltered a bit. “Um…not great at the moment.”

  “Tell them the truth!” yelled a shrill voice from deeper inside the house. “Tell them that, just like those other morons who knocked you up, this one’s not going to marry you, either! I’m going to wind up having to take care of you and all five of your bastard brats!”

  “Okay, that’s it,” Dirk said. “I’m outta here.” He turned and started to walk briskly down the sidewalk toward the car.

  Savannah hesitated, then said to Karen, “You know, you deserve a lot better than you’re getting here, and your kids sure as shootin’ do.”

  Karen swallowed hard and blinked her eyes rapidly a couple of times. “How do you get it?”

  “You don’t sit around and just hope that somebody’s going to give you a better life. You demand better…of yourself and everybody around you. Do it for your children, if not for yourself.”

  As Savannah turned and walked back to the car to join Dirk, her heart was heavy, her brain in turmoil.

  She thought of the difference between her own grandmother and Gertrude Burns and thanked God for the love and care that had been shown to her and her siblings.

  As soon as she got into the car with Dirk, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “I’m calling Social Services,” she told him. “They need to do a thorough inspection of that place. And if they find Gertrude Burns suitable to care for helpless little children, I’ll eat my drawers.”

  Chapter 12

  “This meeting of the Moonlight Magnolia Detective Agencyis hereby called to order!” Granny Reid declared, lifting her glass of lemonade in a toast. “All members, and us honorary members, too, are present and accounted for!”

  “Let the revelries begin!” John shouted, hefting his glass of merlot to the stars. Ryan did the same.

  Dirk, who was exhausted, simply grunted and raised a beer bottle. Tammy toasted with a glass of mineral water, and Savannah joined in with a mug of root beer.

  Normally, she’d be having a margarita, frozen, with salt. But she never drank alcohol in front of Granny. That way Gran stayed happy and Savannah didn’t get her ears boxed.

  It worked out well for everyone.

  The backyard cookout had been a wild success. Dirk’s barbecued ribs and Savannah’s potato salad, baked beans, and corn on the cob had been devoured along with Granny’s deviled eggs. Eventually, they’d get around to the blackberry cobbler and homemade ice cream. But between dinner and dessert, while everyone waited for their belts to loosen just a bit, the Moonlight Magnolia gang had decided to do a little work.

  They sat in a loose circle around Savannah’s patio on her comfortable chairs and chaises, enjoying the ambient light of her colorful Chinese lanterns, some well-placed candles, and the glow of a full moon.

  Appropriately, the magnolia tree was in full bloom.

  “So, lay out your suspects for us,” John said.

  “Yes,” added Ryan, “we have to know what we’re working with here.”

  “Okay.” Savannah took a deep breath. “Thanks to the fact that Dr. Wellman—or Bobby Martini, whichever you choose to call him—couldn’t keep his slacks zipped, we have more than our share of possible bad guys…and girls.”

  Gran nodded, a sage look on her face, her silver hair glowing in the moonlight. “Yeap, them sexual sins, they tend to be the ones that pay the biggest dividends. It’d be better for a fella to rob another man, even smack him in the jaw with his fist, than to step out with the man’s wife.”

  “That’s true,” Dirk said. “Five minutes of fun’ll get you a lifetime of troubles.”

  “And a lot of times, the fun ain’t even all that fun, if you know what I mean,” Savannah said.

  Everyone but Gran nodded in agreement.

  Gran just looked at Savannah with deep suspicion.

  “Or so I’ve heard. I wouldn’t know personally.” Savannah cleared her throat. “That’s the word on the street, you know?”

  Along with Gran believing that Savannah was a teetotaler, she also chose to think that her granddaughter was a virgin. That, too, worked well for Savannah. She was pretty sure she was too big at this point to get a “whuppin’” from Gran, but there was no point in taking chances.

  “So, here are our suspects,” Savannah said, eager to guide the conversation away from fleshly sins…at least, personal knowledge of fleshly sins.

  She started the countdown on her forefinger. “First, the killer could be an unknown suspect, a simple rob
ber who followed Maria Wellman home in order to snatch the jewels off her. She had rented a diamond and sapphire necklace and earring set from a Rodeo Drive jewelry store for the ball. And those items and her wedding ring weren’t on her body.”

  “Could the jogger have taken them…the one who discovered her?” Tammy asked.

  “Doubt it,” Dirk replied. “We checked him out thoroughly. He’s a simple hippie-type guy who’s antimaterialism. He doesn’t even have a bank account. Lives in his mom’s basement and smokes a lot of pot. Doesn’t strike me at all as the violent type.”

  “No alerts from any pawn shops or jewelry stores about the missing gems?” John asked.

  “No, nothing at all,” Dirk said.

  “As far as our known suspects,” Savannah continued, “we have Terry Somers. Terry’s a compulsive gambler, in deep to loan sharks. They’ve roughed him up, even broken his leg, which he blames on Dr. Wellman. He threatened to kill Wellman in front of witnesses. He makes no bones about the fact that he despises him. He wasn’t big on Maria Wellman, either.”

  “On the other hand,” Dirk said, “Somers’s leg is in a cast and has been since before Maria’s murder. It’s his left leg, so he could drive if he wanted to, and he was walking around on it okay when we talked to him.”

  “A guy in a cast would leave a pretty distinctive print,” Ryan said. “Did you find anything like that at the scene?”

  “No, not at all,” Dirk replied. “The only footprints they found were some in a flower bed at the edge of the cliff, made by the victim herself.”

  “How nimble would a guy be with his leg in a cast?” Tammy said. “That would be a bit of a handicap if you were trying to murder somebody.”

  “Don’t forget, Ted Bundy put his arm in a cast as a ruse,” Savannah reminded her.

  “That’s true,” Tammy agreed. “Does Somers have an alibi?”

  “No, he was home alone watching TV,” Dirk told her, “but as it turns out, so were most of our other suspects.”

  “Like Roxanne Rosen,” Savannah said. “She had a fight with Maria Wellman a few days before the killing. A real fight. Dr. Liu found broken and repaired fingernails and old bruises on the victim. Plus we had witnesses to the altercation, some public road workers who came forward with what they’d seen.”