Sugar and Spite (25 page)

Definitely a nice view, if you could afford it.

“Naw, I wouldn’t want to live up here,” Dirk said with his usual effervescence. “One good earthquake and the whole thing’s gonna fall right into the ocean. In fact, you couldn’t pay me to live up here.”

“Well, a lot of people have paid a great deal for these lots,” Ryan said. “In fact, even the smaller ones are going for seven figures.”

“As in a million bucks or more?” Dirk was traumatized at the very thought of such extravagance.

“And that’s just for the dirt,” Savannah added, shaking her head. “Imagine, a million dollars for dirt.”

“The developer is collecting a tidy sum,” John said. “Acquiring this property and overcoming numerous obstacles to having it rezoned by the city was one of his finer triumphs.”

“This is all well and good,” Dirk said, shifting nervously on his seat, the sumptuous leather wasted on him. “But I didn’t come up here to sightsee. You said you’d found somethin’.”

Savannah cringed at Dirk’s lack of diplomacy, but by now, John and Ryan knew Dirk too well even to notice, let alone be offended.

“We have uncovered something indeed,” John said, glowing with self-satisfaction. “After we left your home last evening, Savannah, we spent much of the night making telephone calls. I must tell you, more than one of our friends is upset with us, but it was worth incurring their wrath.”

“It certainly was,” Ryan interjected. “We were so pleased with what we learned that we were waiting at the courthouse this morning when they opened their doors. It took a while, but we confirmed what we were told last night.”

“Which was?” Savannah had to fight the juvenile urge to cross her fingers and toes.

“We were searching for a connection to our fine Lieutenant Jeffries and someone named Cooper.” John waved a hand at the open, freshly bulldozed lots. “And there it is.”

“This land,” Ryan said, “was purchased by one Ethan Cooper.”

“
The
Ethan Cooper?” Savannah asked. “The guy who built Oaks Dale?”

“And many other exclusive, gated communities here in Southern California,” John replied. “Exactly such a complex is intended for this area. Building will begin this summer. Custom, five- and six-bedroom homes.”

“Okay,” Dirk said. “So, people are nuts enough to pay a fortune for land that’s gonna slide downhill as soon as the spring rains begin. What’s that got to do with Jeffries?”

Ryan and John grinned at each other, savoring their juicy tidbit as long as possible before spitting it out. In unison they pointed to a prime lot, marked off with yellow surveyors’ flags, right in the center of the complex.

“That one,” Ryan said, “is his.”

“Get outta here,” Savannah exclaimed. “He bought that property on what a cop makes? Even a lieutenant on the SCPF isn’t paid enough to keep a cat stocked with Kitty Gourmet.”

Laughing, Ryan said, “I kid you not. Our poor, underpaid public servant is going to retire like a king.”

“He won’t be buying it with old family money,” John added. “We checked. And he loses more money than he wins in Las Vegas.”

“Our man is connected,” Savannah offered.

John nodded. “He is connected to Ethan Cooper. We were just beginning to put that together, along with an interesting profile on Mr. Cooper, when we left to rendezvous with you two.”

“Let’s go back to my house, and I’ll fix us some lunch,” Savannah suggested. “We’ll compare what you have against what Tammy’s been working on. She’s been glued to that computer screen since dawn-thirty.”

“And then,” Dirk said, his voice soft, his expression sorrowful, “I have to go… somewhere… for a while.”

Savannah reached over and took his hand between both of hers. “We’re all going to go, buddy,” she said. “We’ve already talked about it.”

He brightened slightly, but only for a second. “You don’t have to. I mean, you guys hardly even knew her and, Van, I know you didn’t even like her.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Savannah laced her fingers through his big, thick ones and squeezed. “We’re going for you.”

Dirk looked astounded. His voice got husky. “But why?”

“Because you would be there for us if we needed you,” she replied. “That’s what family is all about.”

* * *

“Ethan Cooper?” Tammy exclaimed. “I know Ethan Cooper! My old boss used to play golf with him.”

“Ah, yes. Your old boss. What a fine fellow he was,” Savannah added. “We got him on first-degree homicide for hiring a hit man to kill off his enemies, if I remember correctly… and I do.” She slapped generous dollops of Dijon mustard on the giant hero sandwiches she was building on her kitchen counter.

Ryan stood beside her, layering ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato slices on the bread she had prepared. Dirk sat at the kitchen table ten feet away, scribbling on a legal pad, while Tammy and John consulted their laptop computers opened in front of them.

“What can
you
tell us about Mr. Cooper, love?” John asked Tammy as he clicked away at his keyboard.

“He’s as crooked as the Pacific Coast Highway,” she said. “He even cheats at golf… or so my boss used to say. He has an enormous amount of money, incredible power, and no morals whatsoever. An-n-n-nd… he was involved in quite a scandal last summer. You remember… that sweet old couple whose house burned down… up there on the hill.”

Savannah nearly dropped her mustard knife. “On the hill… right where those expensive lots are now.”

Tammy grinned and reached over to slap Dirk on the arm. “There, you crotchety old fart, how’s that… coming from an air-headed, flaky, blond bimbo?”

“I never accused you of being a blonde.”

She slapped him again, harder.

“That’s enough, children,” Savannah said. “I’ll have to send you to opposite corners for time-out.”

Dirk ignored the threat, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the legal pad. “Didn’t Nathan, Lynn’s little brother, say that Kevin had bragged about burning some people’s house down for enough money to buy a Corvette?”

“He sure did. That’s exactly what he said.” Savannah licked the knife clean and stuck it into the dishwasher.

Ryan looked up from his mountain of ham and cheese slices. “Who do you suppose the investigating officer was on that case?”

Savannah smiled. “I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts, our lieutenant handled that one all by his lonesome self.”

* * *

Savannah supposed that the trip out to sea with Polly’s ashes could have been more miserable. But she wasn’t sure how.

She stood on the bow of the fifty-foot fishing boat with Tammy and shivered. Dirk, John, and Ryan stood at the stern… also shivering.

“How can it be so warm and sunny on land and foggy and friggin’ cold out here?” Savannah said, pulling her lightweight cardigan more tightly around her. A sailor’s wool pea coat would have been more appropriate. A sailor’s wool gloves, wool muffler, wool cap and socks…

“The offshore flow of air from the desert warms the coast,” Tammy said, “while the ocean air is—”

“It was a rhetorical question, Tarn. I’m far too cold and nauseous to absorb any meteorological words of wisdom you might have now.”

When Tammy’s lower lip protruded ever so slightly, Savannah reached over and wrapped her arm around the younger woman’s waist. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Just a bit grumpy under the circumstances. It’s hard, you know. I feel like I should… I should feel worse than I do. I mean, this is the woman’s funeral—what there’s going to be—and she deserves to have people here who mourn her. At least people who knew her, and preferably liked her a little.”

“I know what you mean,” Tammy said, looking out into the silver-gray fog that deadened the sound of their boat’s engine and the horn of the lighthouse in the distance. “I can’t tell you how many phone calls I made, trying to get people to come to this… for Dirk’s sake. Polly just didn’t have very many friends. She knew a lot of people, but they were all mad at her over one thing or the other. I lost track of how many told me that she had used them one time too many.”

Savannah nodded. “I understand how they felt. She never took advantage of me, but it’s because I saw the way she treated Dirk, and I refused to let her get close enough to screw me.”

Looking back at Dirk, she saw that he was talking to Ryan and John in a companionable, male way. Their presence seemed to be comforting to him, and she blessed them for caring about a crusty curmudgeon with a thick head and good heart.

Sitting on the starboard side of the boat in a deck chair was a middle-aged woman with hair that was five shades too dark for her sallow complexion. She was wearing a fake leopard coat, black leggings, and black knee-high boots. Savannah envied her the clothing, even if it was a bit garish for a funeral. At least
she
wasn’t shivering.

“What’s the story with her?” Savannah asked Tammy.

“She’s Polly’s hairdresser. The only one who would agree to come.”

“What’s her name?”

“Joleen Palmetto. She has that shop downtown on Harrington Boulevard, near all the new boutiques. Polly went there at least once a week for her hair and nails.”

“Let’s go chat with her, see if we can get anything out of her.”

Tammy gave her a reproving look. “You mean ‘see if we can console her in her hour of grief.’ “

Savannah shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

They walked over to Joleen, Savannah sat down on a chair beside her, and Tammy leaned against the rail on the other side.

“Hello, I’m Savannah Reid, a friend of Dirk’s… Polly’s ex.” She extended her hand and Joleen shook it. The beautician’s acrylic nails were outrageously long, painted white, with glittery red hearts accented with tiny, glued-on rhinestones.

Joleen must have noticed her looking at them. She smiled crookedly, and said, “Valentine’s Day’s coming up.”

“Yes, of course,” Savannah replied. “I understand you were Polly’s beautician?”

“That’s right. And you’re the private detective who’s investigating her murder.” It wasn’t a question. Joleen appeared to have done her homework.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Savannah said. She nodded toward Tammy. “And Ms. Tammy Hart is my assistant.”

“You’re the one who called me,” Joleen said. “I’m glad I came. Doesn’t look like a very good turnout.”

Tammy shrugged. “People are busy these days.”

“Too busy to pay their respects, it seems,” Joleen replied. She toyed with the shiny jet button on the front of her leopard coat. “But then, if I were honest, I’d have to admit that I’m not really here to grieve, either.”

Savannah tried to look surprised. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I came to talk to you.”

“Oh.” She had Savannah’s full attention. “How did you know about me?”

Joleen chuckled. “You’re sort of a local celebrity. I read about you every now and then in the newspapers.”

“Mmmm, that’s not an altogether good thing,” Savannah said. “Flattering, maybe, but part of being a private detective is staying private. And I’m afraid that, usually, when my name makes it into print, it’s because I’ve done something stupid or pissed somebody off.”

“There’s nothing wrong with pissing off the bad guys,” Joleen told her. Savannah decided, then and there, she liked this woman’s attitude. A sister-in-arms.

“Yeah, but the bad guys I go after are usually in high places, and that makes things a bit complicated at times.”

Joleen’s dark eyes glimmered. “Somebody’s got to bring the big cats down. Might as well be you, if you can do it.”

Savannah had a feeling there was more to Joleen than jungle prints and Dragon-Lady nails. And there was some special purpose for her being on the boat today… hopefully something having to do with justice.

“Why did you want to see me?” Savannah asked, lowering her voice. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

Joleen opened her mouth to speak, then glanced over at Tammy and hesitated.

“Whatever you have to say,” Savannah told her, “you can say in front of Tammy. If she doesn’t hear it firsthand right now, she’ll just worm it out of me later.”

Joleen’s eyes widened. “I’d like to think you’re discreet,” she said, “that you will keep whatever I tell you in confidence.”

“Oh, I’m the soul of discretion,” Savannah said. “Except with her. She’s really good at squeezing information out of people.”

Joleen grinned. “I suspect you’re both pretty good at that.”

Savannah returned the smile, then got serious. “So, tell me what you came here to say.”

Joleen began to twist the button around and around again. Her grin evaporated. “I think I know why Polly was murdered.”

Savannah leaned toward her. “I would like very much to know that myself.”

“Polly had been dating this guy, a cop. Well, not exactly dating him. I think they’d only been out a couple of times, and I got the idea that she liked him a lot more than he liked her.”

“Do you know the cop’s name?” Tammy asked.

“Not for sure. It was Jeff… maybe Jeffrey… something like that. But she was really proud of herself for nabbing him, because he had a high rank.” She glanced over at Dirk and lowered her voice. “I remember Polly saying this guy was going somewhere in the department, not a deadbeat detective like her ex.”

“Polly always did have a way with words,” Savannah said dryly, “and her priorities in order. Go on.”

“Anyway, one night she was over at this guy’s house and she overheard him talking to a doctor friend of his, some plastic surgeon, about a good deal they could get on a lot up on the hill. But the cop said he was going to have to do a big favor or two for the developer. Polly got the idea from the tone of his voice that it wasn’t something they would tell their grandmothers about.”

“No, I don’t suppose they would. And…?”

“And then, a few weeks later, she was over there again, hanging out by the pool when this big shot named Ethan Cooper dropped by to see the cop. They went into the study to talk and Polly listened in the next room through a vent-She heard them talking about how the cop had made a bargain with a couple of the criminals he had arrested for armed robbery… a bad dude named Snake and another one named Donaldson. They were supposed to burn an elderly couple’s house down.”