on the beach, soaking in one or two of the famous California rays. Or at least a “dab from a pot of rouge” as Granny Reid called it.
But when she looked into the woman’s eyes, she saw the palest shade of blue she had ever seen in her life. And she decided this lady must have a few Viking ancestors perched on the branches of her family tree. Maybe the red hair was natural, after all.
“Hello,” Savannah said, holding out her hand. “I’m Savannah Reid. I believe Ms. Papalardo is expecting me.”
The woman shook her hand, and Savannah couldn’t help noticing that her fingers were cold and sweat-damp. And although she was nearly as tall as Savannah, she had a frail, delicate look about her. Even though the sweater and slacks were loosely fitted, Savannah could see enough to know that her body was thin to the point of being bony.
As Gran would say , Savannah thought, here’s a gal in desperate need of a week’s worth of good homestyle cookin’…three meals a day of it…breakfast, dinner, and supper.
The woman gave her a lackluster smile. “Yes,” she said, opening the door wider and motioning her inside. “Dona is out, but your friend Sergeant Coulter told me you’d be coming. He asked me to let you in and show you to your room.”
“Where is Dirk?” Savannah asked, stepping into the cool marble foyer.
“He’s out in the backyard, I believe, questioning the gardener.”
Savannah considered the fact that she should have stopped by the Patty Cake Bakery and gotten him a couple of cinnamon rolls and an extra large coffee. He had told her that he intended to arrive here very early to talk to Dona Papalardo again, to question anybody he could get his hands on, and snoop in general. He would be grumpy without his caffeine/sugar jolt to get him going.
She paused by the statue of Diana and turned to the woman, “By the way,” she said, “I don’t believe I caught your name…”
“Mary Jo Livermore,” she said. “I’m Dona’s friend. Her best friend, in fact. Have been since elementary school.”
Briefly, Savannah flashed back on her conversation with Dona the day before. When she had offered to call someone for Dona, someone to perhaps offer her some comfort and strength in her time of need, Dona had flatly refused. Savannah wondered if Mary Jo and Dona were as close as Mary Jo seemed to think they were.
“That’s nice,” Savannah said. “I must admit I haven’t stayed in contact with most of my childhood friends. But then, they’re all in Georgia. It’s really nice that Dona has a good friend to help her through this difficult time.”
Mary Jo’s pale blue eyes stared blankly into hers for a long time before she seemed to snap to attention. “Oh. Right. You mean about Kim getting killed. Yeah, that’s a bad one, to be sure. I suppose Dona was pretty upset about that.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen Dona since it happened?”
“Not yet. She was gone by the time I got here this morning. I had an early morning session at the recording studio, so I couldn’t come over right away. And Dona had a breakfast meeting with her new agent in Hollywood. Our schedules don’t allow us to see each other as often as we’d like. It’s a shame how busy everybody is these days.”
She ushered Savannah toward the staircase, and together they climbed the steps to the second floor. “Your room is up here with the other guest rooms,” she said. “Dona’s bedroom is on the third floor.”
“That’s good,” Savannah said. To herself she added, Somebody would have to get past my door to get to her.
She was doing a mental checklist of security factors in her head as she passed through the house. There was a state-of-the-art burglar system in place. She had seen the primary panel mounted on the wall next to the front door, and several motion and glass break detectors. She noted the mini-sensors on the windows and doors.
But the alarm would have to be activated and remain on at all times to be