Part 20 (1/2)
At first, the two diners failed to notice, so absorbed were they in their conversation, food, and drinks. But the instant La Cross glanced up and recognized Savannah and Dirk, the cozy, happy expression fell off her face.
Savannah could almost imagine that she heard it plop into her umbrella-adorned pink c.o.c.ktail.
”What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing there?” La Cross snapped as she jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over backward in the process. It fell to the floor with a tremendous clatter, which caught everyone's attention.
Suddenly the busy, bustling, noisy restaurant was as silent as a well-tended library. The crowd sat, wide-eyed and all ears, taking in what was going on at their neighbors' table.
”Who me?” Savannah asked, checking the picture on her phone, smiling, and then pus.h.i.+ng the camera b.u.t.ton again.
”Stop that!” Chief La Cross rushed around the table and tried to grab the phone from Savannah's hand.
”Stop what?” Savannah quickly shoved the camera down the front of her blouse and into her bra. ”I was just taking some pictures of people who were minding their own business. People who didn't know they were having their pictures taken. Nothing illegal about that. Right?”
Savannah quirked one eyebrow and gave her an unpleasant, bitter smile. ”But then, it isn't nearly as bad as taking pictures of a couple on their honeymoon-an unsuspecting guy and gal who're just hanging out, minding their own business around, say . . . Coconut Jane's Tavern or maybe somewhere nearby there.”
La Cross looked like she had just been caught stealing an expensive diamond ring in a jewelry store. She also seemed to notice she was making a scene as she glanced around the restaurant and realized that her fellow islanders were watching this highly entertaining exchange with rapt attention.
”It's not like this is a romantic lunch,” Savannah said, waving a hand toward William Northrop, who was leaning back in his chair, almost as if trying to hide behind the potted palm. ”Is it, Chief La Cross? You aren't having a cuddly lunch with a man who's only been widowed a little over forty-eight hours, are you?”
”You leave!” La Cross whispered, leaning so close to Savannah that Savannah could smell the alcohol and fruit juice on her breath. ”Get out of here this minute. I'll deal with you two later.”
”No, you can deal with us right now,” Dirk said. ”We want to know if you take pictures of all the residents who live here on the island without their knowledge or permission. Without them knowing it.”
At several of the tables, people turned to each other and began to whisper furiously. ”Or is it just the tourists you spy on?” he added for a bit of extra spice. ”People who visit your island like us . . . like these folks sitting around here, just trying to have a nice meal?”
The whispers around them suddenly turned into an uproar. Several guests pushed away their plates and motioned for the waiter to bring their checks. Others got out their own cell phones and began snapping pictures of Dirk and Savannah and Northrop. And even more of Chief La Cross, whose face was turning more crimson by the second.
Even her eyeb.a.l.l.s looked red. For a moment, Savannah wondered, if a police chief had a stroke while arguing with you, would that be murder or manslaughter?
”We have one thing to ask you and then we'll leave,” Savannah told her. ”A simple yes or no will suffice.”
When La Cross didn't reply-just stood there breathing heavy, her nostrils flaring-Savannah continued. ”Was Hank Jordan at your station house when Amelia Northrop was murdered?”
It seemed to take forever, but eventually the chief gave Savannah the slightest nod.
”Thank you,” Savannah said. ”One more thing, as we bid you a good day. Do not take any more pictures of me or my husband. We aren't the bad guys here.”
Savannah glanced over at William Northrop, who still looked like he wanted to climb into the palm tree next to him and hide. He hadn't said a word, and somehow, Savannah didn't respect him much for not even bothering to get out of his chair and stand up for his dear old buddy Charlotte.
”Now he might be your bad guy,” Savannah said, pointing at Northrop. ”For all we know, you might be questioning him right now. But if you want to question us any further, I'd suggest you invite us out to lunch, too. Maybe buy us a couple of fancy c.o.c.ktails, and we'll sit at a table and giggle together, like y'all are doing there. But either way, stop spying on us, and let us enjoy our honeymoon in peace.”
She and Dirk turned and left, following the same pathway through the tables of people, who now looked far less peaceful than when they had entered.
But none more so than William Northrop and Chief of Police Charlotte La Cross.
La Cross slowly returned to her seat; then she sat down so quickly that it looked like her legs had collapsed beneath her. She gave Northrop one quick, dirty look, then began to chugalug her drink.
He waded into his salad with a vengeance, not looking at any of the other diners, who were openly staring at them.
When Savannah and Dirk got back into the Jaguar, they turned to look and saw that La Cross was glaring at them with an intensity that would have sent s.h.i.+vers through Savannah if she hadn't been so mad herself.
”When it comes right down to it, she didn't do anything all that awful,” Dirk said as he started the car and pulled out into traffic.
”She violated our privacy,” Savannah shot back.
”Something that we do to other people almost every day of our careers.”
”But-but . . .”
”Come on. It's me. You can be honest with me.”
”No, I can't,” she replied with a sigh. ”Because to get real with you, I'd have to fess up to myself first. And I'm not ready to do that, thank you very much.”
”How about if I tell you why you're so mad at her?”
”Okay, Mr. Smarty Farty, lay it on me. The cold, hard truth. Smack me right between the eyes with it.”
”It's easy. You're mad at her for the same reason I am. She was able to surveil us without us even knowing it. We're p.i.s.sed at her 'cause she beat us at our own game.”
He nudged her with his elbow. ”How's that, babe? Was I even close?”
She smiled in spite of herself. ”You've gotten smarter since you became a married man.”
”I know.”
”Well, I don't like it.”
”If this ain't the most beautiful place on earth, I don't know what is,” Gran said as she stood in front of the lightkeeper's cottage with the rest of the gang and looked up at the tower.
Silhouetted against the deepening evening sky, with its brilliant coral-and-turquoise glow, the structure had an almost ethereal beauty about it.
”What do you reckon it is,” Savannah asked, her arm around her grandmother's shoulders, ”that makes that shape so appealing to the human eye?”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, Savannah realized she had just opened the door for a flood of stupid, adolescent jokes. She looked around the Moonlight Magnolia gang seated in a circle of beach chairs in front of the cottage and saw far too many males for the opportunity for ”bawdy” to just slip by.
”The first one who says something nasty and ruins this precious moment is gonna get his jaw smacked,” Granny said, still gazing up at the tower.
Waycross grinned. Dirk snickered. Ryan and John looked at each other and covered the lower portions of their faces with their hands.
Savannah sighed, envying Gran. How lovely would it be to have that kind of power?
She'd only have to wait another forty years to know.
”It was really generous of you two inviting us all over for dinner like that,” Ryan said.
”We don't mind you guys that much,” Dirk replied, then took a long drink from his bottle of root beer-a concession to Granny being present.