Page 96 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

What, indeed, Caitlyn thought as she grabbed a sweater, made sure her wrists, which were healing day by day, were covered. Oscar caught sight of her reaching for her keys. “Not now,” she apologized. “It’s too hot. But when I get home, we’ll take a run, how ’bout that?” The dog whined and bounced against the door. She let him out and he immediately raced to the magnolia tree, where a lizard was sunning himself on the trunk. The frightened critter scurried into the safety of the branches, and Caitlyn took the side door into the garage and climbed into her car.

She had to face her family again.

Kelly would think she was a hypocrite like the rest of them.

But Kelly could take heart, Caitlyn thought as she backed out of the garage; the family was definitely getting smaller. Hannah and Amanda were right—one by one the Montgomerys were dropping like flies.

She had to wonder who was holding the swatter.

God?

Or someone close to the family? Someone who wanted them dead.

Reed hung up the phone and hankered for a cigarette. He’d given up the habit years ago, but there were still times like these when he needed a hit of nicotine. He’d been working around the clock, busting his chops on the Bandeaux case. Hell, when the department hadn’t authorized a man to watch Caitlyn Montgomery, he’d done it on the side, keeping track of her comings and goings as best he could, around his other cases.

You’re obsessed; you need to get out more. Get a fuckin’ life!

But he didn’t. His stabs at relationships had all been mistakes, and so for a while, when he’d returned to Savannah, he’d done the bar scene, even had a couple of one-night stands, none of which was so bad aside from the fact that he hadn’t much liked himself for it. The sex had been fine at the time, but like cheap whiskey, had made him feel tired, worn out and just plain old the morning after. So he’d sworn off. Didn’t need the bloodshot eyes and recriminations.

How many times could he say, “I’ll give you a call?” when he knew, even after too many drinks, that he was lying through his teeth, that one roll in the sack was all he wanted?

Maybe he should take up bowling.

Or golf.

Or even rock climbing. Just something.

He rubbed two days’ growth of beard, downed the rest of a cold cup of coffee and decided to mosey on over to Kathy Okano’s office. Hit her face-to-face with questions. She’d been the one pushing the Bandeaux investigation and now she was backing off. Like a virgin in the backseat, all ready to go until the moment of truth.

He cut through the offices and down a short hallway and was about to step into her office when he was roadblocked by her secretary, Tonya. Who looked like a card-carrying member of the World Wrestling Federation. Tons of makeup, black wild hair, sharp tongue and a sculpted, slightly bulging and, in Reed’s estimation, not very feminine physique. “She took off.”

“Where?”

“Had a lunch date,” the secretary said.

“But I was just on the phone with her.”

“That explains the mad dash out of here,” Tonya said. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

“Thanks,” he groused, stuffing his hands in his pockets and jangling his keys. He made his way back to his office and picked up the pace as he heard his phone. He snagged the receiver and heard Morrisette’s voice, breaking up a little on her cell phone, as she swore at, he assumed, another driver. “Goddamned asshole! I should write you up!”

“For what?” Reed asked.

“Hey! You heard the news?” she asked over the roar of background noise. The police band was crackling and the sound of traffic rushing by competed for airspace. “Berneda Montgomery kicked the bucket last night.”

“The mother?”

“Yeah, she’s admitted to Eastside General for heart problems and within twenty-four hours, she croaks. How’s that for bad luck? Hey! Watch it! That old lady cut me off! Son of a bitch!”

“You’ll live. Tell me about Berneda Montgomery.”

“Don’t know much, but the hospital is in an uproar. It looks like Berneda didn’t just die in her sleep. She struggled. There’s speculation that someone slipped into her room and killed her. Either suffocation or drugs.”

“Shit.” He remembered Amanda Montgomery’s warning that someone was trying to knock off the members of her family. It was beginning to look like she was right. “Meet me at the hospital.”

“I’m already on my way.”

He reached for his jacket as he saw a movement from the corner of his eye. Turning, he spied Sugar Biscayne, some of her bravado from the day before missing.

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