Read Online Sugar and Spite by G. A. McKevett - Free Book Online Page A

Right?”
    “Not really. I’m more than half-serious.”
    “Well, forget it.”
    “Bad idea?”
    “Very bad. You know that tacos and burritos give you killer gas. And the top of your head sunburns the closer you get to the equator, because you’re too vain to admit you need sunscreen on it.”
    “I do not.”
    “Do, too. You’re in denial about your hair loss.”
    “Yeah, and you still pretend to wear a size ten. Who’s livin’ in loo-loo land?”
    “I haven’t been a size ten since I
was
ten, and I’ve never claimed to be anything other than a voluptuous, full-figured woman. You’re just cranky because you think you’re going to get sent up the river on a first-degree murder charge and have to spend the rest of your life with roommates that you put behind bars. Huh?”
    His face flushed red, all the way up to the receding hairline he claimed he didn’t have. “Well, that’s a damned good reason to be cranky, don’t you think?”
    “About as good a reason as I can think of.”
    They drove along in silence for a while, heading for the downtown, old-town section of San Carmelita… and the police station. To their left, on the distant horizon bits of blue ocean glimmered between palm trees and stucco houses with red-tile roofs. To their right stretched uniform rows of dark green citrus trees, limbs heavy with fruit. The warm air was scented with the rich fragrance of oranges and lemons. A perfect February day in Southern California.
    Except that her best friend in the world was probably on his way to the slammer.
    “Maybe it won’t happen,” she said. She could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice. Dirk was no dummy, and he knew her well. She knew he heard it, too.
    “If you were the detective working this case,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest, “would you arrest me?”
    Savannah couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Would you… if you were in charge of the case?”
    He sighed. “An ex-wife dead in a guy’s trailer. Shot with his gun. Neighbors heard them arguing right before. They saw him run outside with the gun in his hand right after. He’s got her blood on him and gunpowder residue on his hands. He’s blamin’ it on some unknown intruder that nobody saw but him. I’d lock his ass up. And you would, too. Huh?”
    She couldn’t lie to him. There was no point. “Yeah. I would.”
    Searching for something more uplifting to add, she said, “Of course, I’d also check out his story, just in case he wasn’t lying through his teeth. And that might lead somewhere.”
    Absentmindedly, he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, then shoved them back in. Savannah knew he was dying for a smoke, but she had forbidden him, upon threat of a painful death involving kinky torture if he lit up in her Camaro.
    Considering the circumstances, she decided to take pity on him. “Go ahead.”
    He perked up at the very thought of the much-needed nicotine fix. “Really? Don’t kid about a thing like that.”
    “I’m not kidding. You can smoke. This once. But open the window, hang your head out, and pant like a golden retriever.”
    In four heartbeats, he had lit the cigarette and was taking a long, luxurious draw, which he later released out the window, as instructed.
    “Do you think they’ll actually check out my story… at all?” he said.
    “Jake McMurtry’s a good man. He likes you. If you hadn’t put in a good word for him and taught him the ropes, he wouldn’t be a detective now. He’d still be walking the downtown beat with his buddy, Mike Farnon.”
    Savannah couldn’t help grinning when Dirk actually stuck his head out the window to exhale. Despite his occasional cussedness, he could be a sweetheart when he took the notion to be. Damn, she would miss him, she realized with a tightness in her throat and around her heart.
    “But,” he said, “we don’t know for sure that Jake’s gonna be in charge. He sorta started there at the scene, then