Page 104 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

Was that right? Hell, it had been years since he’d thought of that. Delve for what?

For bodies in coffins.

He zeroed in on that. Maybe there was something to the old nursery rhyme…or maybe not. The killer hadn’t mentioned it in any of his pathetic communiques.

A group of six carolers strolled by, harmonizing on “Silent Night.” Christmas lights twinkled in the shrubbery surrounding the buildings. Men dressed in Santa suits rang bells and collected for charity on the street corners.

Christmas.

Could that be it?

The twelve days of Christmas?

They started on December twenty-fifth and ran to January sixth, Epiphany—or at least he thought so. It had been a long while since he’d gone to Sunday school, hadn’t heard a bit of Bible instruction since he was a kid up near Dahlonega. But he was fairly certain that was right.

How did the carol about the twelve days go?

Twelve lords a-leaping, no, no wrong. Twelve drummers drumming. That was it. Twelve damned drummers. But, so what? Big deal. What did drummers have to do with anything?

Before he could analyze the song, he spied Nikki Gillette as she strode through the glass door with a slim black woman Reed didn’t recognize. They paused under the building’s overhang, Nikki hiking up the collar of a tan raincoat that cinched tight around her small waist, her friend adjusting an umbrella.

Nikki’s face was alive. Animated. Beautiful in a way that disturbed Reed. She was talking wildly as the wind blew her red-blond hair around her face. Together the women hurried to the parking lot, then got into separate cars. The black woman’s Volkswagen Jetta sped away quickly while Nikki’s hatchback took a little while to start. Once the Subaru kicked into gear, Nikki hit the throttle full-bore and barely stopped before entering the street.

Reed followed.

He had no trouble keeping up with Nikki’s silver car, nor did he try to hide the fact that he was tailing her down the narrow streets leading to her apartment, through the historic district, past large homes with raised porches, tall windows, and ornate grillwork festooned with garlands and wreaths. Her little car bounced down cobblestone streets and paved roads until she pulled into th

e alley behind her apartment house.

Reed parked behind her, turning off his headlights as she opened her car door. “Well, well, well. Detective Reed. My new best friend. You know, for years you wouldn’t even return my calls and now, here you are in the flesh. Again. You weren’t kidding about this private bodyguard stuff, were you?”

“I rarely ‘kid.’”

“I’ve noticed. But you might want to give it a try.” She winked at him and offered the hint of a dimple, which was nearly his undoing. “Lighten up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Yeah, right,” she said as if she didn’t believe it, but even in the darkness, he noticed that her eyes twinkled a bit as she baited him. Flirted with him.

Don’t even think this way. This is Nikki Gillette you’re thinking about. Ronald Gillette’s daughter. A hungry reporter always looking for an angle and a story.

She pushed open the gate and it creaked upon old hinges. “Detective Morrisette wouldn’t give me any information about what’s going on with the investigation.”

See, what did I tell you? Always on the job. Don’t let yourself get involved, Reed.

“I don’t think there is anything. We’re still checking things out.”

“You, too? I thought you were off—”

“Let’s not go into that,” he suggested. They passed by a fountain that gurgled near the bole of a huge magnolia tree.

“There you are!” Reed recognized Fred Cooper, the landlord. An oval-shaped man with a falsetto voice, Fred bustled around the corner. His nose was too big for his face and his rimless glasses were a little tilted over the bridge of a small nose. Reed was reminded of all of the pictures he’d seen of Humpty-Dumpty. “I wanted to talk to you.” Thin lips pursed.

“What is it, Fred?” Nikki paused at the bottom step. “You remember Detective Reed.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Yes. Oh.” Some of his gumption evaporated. “Don’t tell me there’s more trouble!”

Reed said, “I’m just escorting Ms. Gillette home.”

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