Savannah Breeze Read Online Free Page B

been living off peanut butter and Kit Kat bars.”
    â€œChrist,” Arch said. “What are you going to do?”
    I bit my lip. What was I going to do? What was he going to do? For that matter, what was anybody else in the family going to do? Who died and left me in charge?
    â€œI’m here,” I said finally. “I’ll call over to the infirmary and see if they have her there.”
    â€œFine,” Arch said. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve got a meeting in five. Call me and let me know if you find her.”
    I hung up, found the number for the Magnolia Manor infirmary, and after fifteen minutes on hold, ascertained that yes, indeed, Mrs.Lorena Loudermilk had been admitted to the infirmary three days ago, with a bladder infection.
    â€œThis is her granddaughter,” I said, letting my voice go deliberately cold and imperious. “I had no idea she was ill. My grandfather has been living alone for the past three days, not eating, and probably not sleeping, either. Why wasn’t the family informed that she was being admitted to the hospital?”
    â€œCan’t say,” the woman said. And she clearly didn’t care that she couldn’t say, either. “You’d have to ask her doctor.”
    â€œI’ll do just that,” I said grimly.
    â€œGranddaddy,” I said brightly. “Let’s go visit Grandmama in the hospital, want to?”
    â€œMaybe later,” he said, glancing up at the clock on the living-room wall. “It’s time for the Rukeyser report.”
    â€œI think we’d better go now,” I said, tugging gently on his arm. “You can watch television later.”
    I dug the key to the bungalow out of my purse and locked the door behind us. “It’s too cold to walk over to the main building,” I told my grandfather. I pointed toward the white Lexus parked in the visitor’s slot. “I’m parked right there.”
    â€œAnd I’m parked right there,” Granddaddy said, pointing proudly to a white Lincoln Town Car parked beside mine.
    He took a set of keys from the pocket of the red sweatpants and jingled them excitedly. “After the hospital, we can go get some ice cream. Just like when you were a little girl.”
    I walked over to the driver’s side of the Lincoln and gazed, speechlessly, at the sticker pasted to the window. I was looking at a brand-new top-of-the-line car, for which somebody had paid $42,698.
    Granddaddy mashed the automatic lock button on the car, and held open the passenger door. “After you,” he said proudly.
    The paper mats were still on the floor of the car, and the leatherette owner’s manual was sitting on the seat. I glanced over at the odometer, which read 14.7 miles.
    â€œGranddaddy,” I said, when he got in. “Where did you get this car?”
    â€œMitchell Motors, same as always,” he said, running his hands over the smooth leather upholstery. “I been trading with the Mitchells since 1964. Nice folks.”
    â€œThis car cost nearly $43,000,” I said, my voice shaking. “How did you pay for it?”
    â€œCash money,” Granddaddy said. “Same as always.”
    â€œBut, where did you get the cash?” I asked, trying to stay calm. I’d been taking care of my grandparents’ financial affairs ever since they’d moved into Magnolia Manor. We had a joint custodial checking account, and I paid all their monthly bills, leaving them with a monthly stipend of cash to pay for groceries and miscellaneous items like Grandmama’s hairdresser and the occasional bottle of Scotch for Granddaddy. As far as I knew, there was never any more than a couple hundred dollars in cash around the house.
    He waved his hand. “Oh, I wrote one of them checks you left in the bureau drawer.”
    I felt the blood drain from my face. The previous month, I’d left the checkbook for their money-market account