I was dreaming I was in bed with Savannah. She was curled in the crook of my arm. I could smell the sweet, musky fragrance of her perfume. Her breath warmed my neck. Only it wasn’t a dream. “Logan,” I said, still groggy enough that it was a challenge merely remembering my name. “Matt Streeter, El Dorado County Sheriff’s Department. Hope I didn’t wake you up.” “No, I’m always up this early. The milkman and me.” “Wondered if I could buy you breakfast.” “I’m staying in a B&B, Detective. The second “B” typically implies breakfast is included with the bed.” “OK, coffee, then. It’s important, Mr. Logan. I wouldn’t have called this early if it wasn’t.” Gone was his recalcitrance from the day before. There was something almost needy in his tone. I asked him where he wanted to meet. He gave me the name of a café and the address. He said it was less than five minutes from where I was staying. I said I’d be there. Savannah cracked an eye. “What time is it?”
