The Corpse Wore Cashmere

by Sylvia Rochester

  “Ouch, that’ll eat into our profit. Better ask how many attended last year and what kind of crowd they anticipate this year. That should determine whether it would be worth our while.”

  “The manager said it will run Friday through Saturday, with the guests departing on Sunday, but he didn’t give me the dates. I’m guessing it’ll be soon, so I’ll get right on it. I don’t want someone else to get the jump on us.”

  Susan placed the advertisement next to the printer. “Well, I’d better get back to the boutique.” She thought about Zelda’s visit and knew A. K. would get a kick out of hearing about it. Before she could say anything, Sheila approached with a problem, a discrepancy in prices.

  “Give the customer the lower price,” A. K. said and waved to the customer. “Were you going to say something, Susan?”

  “Nothing important. See ya.”

  For the remainder of the day, Susan worked the floor in the Bawdy Boutique. She loved the person-to-person contact and hated her other duties—meeting payroll, paying the taxes, and doing all the bookkeeping necessary to run a business. Once the Purple Pickle was on sound footing, she was going to hire a bookkeeper.

  Just before closing, a car passed and blew its horn. Debbie waved at one of her friends. Susan again thought about Wesley. “Phooey on waiting,” she mumbled and strode into her office. She pulled the cell phone from her purse and punched in his number.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he answered.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “Never. I was just about to call you.”

  “I’ve heard that before. Where are you?”

  “In Hammond. How about meeting me at Champ’s for a pizza?”

  “Give me time to close up.”

  “I’ll keep a beer company until you get here.”

  Wesley sat alone at a table for two and kept a watch on the door for Susan’s arrival. Just thinking about her made his heart swell. He was a lucky man to have her back in his life. While they had not made a definite commitment to one another, the prospect for a future together looked good. He had lost her once when he went into the service and she left to follow her career, but now that both had returned home, he wasn’t about to lose her again.

  A smile crossed his lips as he thought about Susan. The things he loved most about her had not changed. She was still the gentle, caring, compassionate person he remembered. That she was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t hurt either. Intelligent? Yes. Curious? To a fault. It was because of her curiosity and uncanny visions that he worried so about her. She was impetuous and prone to act without regard to her safety. There was little he could do about that except to point out the danger and try to be there for her.

  Another swarm of people arrived, but Susan wasn’t among them. He glanced around the restaurant, a hot spot for the locals. Men with ties removed and women whose makeup needed refreshing seemed to care little about their appearance. They were off the clock, and it was time to unwind. The only thing that mattered was eating the best pizza in town and downing a frosty mug of beer.

  Wesley caught sight of Susan entering the restaurant and waved to her. She weaved her way through the crowded tables.

  “I’ve missed you,” Susan said, hooking her shoulder bag over the chair.

  “Missed you too.” He poured her a mug of beer. “I knew the place would be packed, so I went ahead and ordered. Sorry I’ve been AWOL, but Lorraine’s case has had me tied in knots. Wouldn’t be so bad if hers was the only one I’m working on.”

  Susan leaned closer and lowered her voice, although with all the noise in the place, she doubted that anyone could overhear what she had to say. “You mean there’s been another murder?”

  “Two guys had a shootout over drugs. One of them didn’t make it. And then there are always the cold cases.” Wesley got that faraway look in his eyes, the one Susan had come to recognize.

  “You’re talking about the high school girl who went missing, aren’t you?”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “I’m going to find out what happened to that girl no matter how long it takes. It’s not officially declared a homicide, but blood evidence on her purse suggests foul play. Other than that, we have no body, no fingerprints, and no other trace evidence. The chief knows I’m interested in that case and has agreed to let me work it in my spare time. He seems to think she staged it and ran away, but my gut tells me she was abducted.”

  “From what you’ve told me, you’ve done everything you can.”

  Wesley grunted. “There’s got to be something I’m missing. Odds are she isn’t alive, but I want to believe she is. And whoever abducted her is still out there. I’m going to find him.”

  “Any chance Lorraine’s case might go unsolved?”

  He hiked an eyebrow. “There’s always that possibility, but I made a promise to Myrtle, one I intend to keep. We’re intensifying our search. Yesterday, the newspaper ran a picture of Lorraine. Maybe it’ll jog someone’s memory. The chief also got coverage on the local TV station, and Dylan and I posted flyers in every bar from here to the coast. Maybe one of the barflies will recognize her and stay sober long enough to give us some details.”

  “Speaking of Dylan, where is your partner?”

  Wesley shrugged. “I have no idea. It might seem like we’re attached at the hip, but we do lead separate lives.” He grinned. “He told me he had a date.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Doubt it. He met a reporter at the landing, and they hit it off. My partner has an eye for hot women.”

  “Then he’ll be happy to hear I’ve hired two part-time workers, both knockouts. I know Debbie’s infatuated with him, but there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.”

  Susan twisted her mouth, a quirk Wesley had come to know when she was pondering something. He waited for whatever was on her mind.

  “Hmm, a cop and a reporter. Are you okay with that arrangement? You don’t think she’ll use him? If she’s after a story, who better to get information from than a cop?”

  “Dylan’s been around enough to know what to say or what not to say.” He pointed a finger at her. “I wonder what people would say about a cop and a psychic?” He chuckled.

  The waitress arrived with their order and another pitcher of beer. Wesley topped off their mugs then pulled the pizza apart and handed Susan a plate with a couple of slices. “Don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” He loaded his plate and wasted no time taking a bite. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the tantalizing aroma almost had him drooling. Neither spoke for a while as they devoured the pizza.

  After three pieces, Susan eased back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. “I’m stuffed. I can imagine everyone in here thinks I’m a fat, glutinous customer, not unlike Marmalade after a meal.”

  “Doubt that.” Wesley scooped up the two remaining wedges. “Sure you don’t want any more?”

  “No room left.”

  He ate slowly now, his brow creased with a frown. He couldn’t stop thinking about his work. In that way, he and Susan were very much alike—dedicated and driven. But he couldn’t just close up shop and walk away. His work went with him. Running a boutique and a costume shop was nothing like dealing with life-and-death situations.

  Susan put her hand on his, drawing his attention. As if reading his mind, she said, “What you need is a break, just a day or two to rest and regroup. A. K. and I are looking into a festival on the Mississippi coast that’ll give us a chance to sell costumes. If things work out, why don’t you join us?”

  “Wish I could, but I’m not going anywhere until I get a lead on Lorraine’s case.” Wesley wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on his plate. “So, when is this festival and how long will you be gone?”

  “I’m not sure, probably in about a week. It’s going to be held at the Pirates’ Reef Casino. A. K.’s getting all the details. It’ll take place over a weekend.”

  “Pirates’ Reef, isn’t that in Biloxi?”

  “Yep.”

 
“Maybe when things settle down, we can slip away…no festival, nothing work related, just the two of us.” He squeezed Susan’s hand. While he meant what he said, the odds of that happening were slim to none, and he wondered what the future really held for their relationship. In his job, there would always be another body, another murder to solve. “Dylan and I have our own ideas as to what might be behind Lorraine’s murder, but we have no evidence to support our claims.” He didn’t like the closeness of the tables in the room. “Too many ears for me to go into details. Want to come to my house for a nightcap?”

  She nodded and picked up her purse from the back of her chair. Wesley signaled the waitress and paid for the pizza. Taking Susan’s arm, he led her from the restaurant.

  Wesley’s headlights never left her rearview mirror until she turned off the highway and into his driveway. She parked in front of the house and dowsed the lights. The surrounding woods cloaked the house in darkness. After pulling alongside her, Wesley stepped out of his car and tripped the security light, not that she needed it. This used to be his parents’ home, a place she had visited many times while in high school.

  Once inside, she used the lady’s room then joined him in the den.

  “Wine okay?” he asked, handing her a glass.

  She answered with a smile and took a sip. “So, what’s your theory on Lorraine’s death?”

  “Give me a minute.” Wesley went into the kitchen and returned with a beer. “Sorry, wine is just not my thing.” He took a swallow and set his bottle on the coffee table. “Like you, I wondered what would make Lorraine give up her good-paying job and move home to Palmetto. She sure couldn’t find anything comparable here, and there’s definitely not any exciting night life. Myrtle might believe Lorraine had changed her ways, but I doubt that. Seems she not only frequented the Rusty Nail, but several other bars on the North Shore.”

  Susan cocked her head to one side. “So, why did she come home?”

  “What if something happened in Biloxi that forced her to leave? Could be the murderer followed her? I hope that isn’t the case, and we don’t find ourselves after a suspect who lives in Mississippi. We’d have to turn over that part of the case to Mississippi authorities. We don’t have jurisdiction there.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Concentrate on Palmetto. Keep working on the assumption that someone here is behind her death and try to establish a motive.”

  “And forget about the possibility something happened in Biloxi that resulted in her death? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “You’ve got that right. While I might not have any authority in Mississippi, that doesn’t mean I can’t investigate on my own…unofficially. Remember I told you about Dylan and why he left his job as a deputy in Gulfport? Well, his dad is still the sheriff there. Dylan’s going to ask if his old partner, Kerry Lightfoot, can ask around and shed some light on why Lorraine left. There’s nothing to stop Dylan from visiting his dad, and I could take a day or two of leave. I sure wouldn’t want something to slip through the cracks over there.”

  Susan sat up straight. She was going to Biloxi. Maybe she could uncover something. After all, Biloxi and Gulfport were only a few miles apart.

  Wesley must have read her mind. “Don’t even think about it. How many times do I have to tell you you’re not trained for such things? Until we got there, we’d be miles apart. If you got into trouble, I wouldn’t be there to help you.”

  “If I remember correctly, I did just fine on my own and discovered Jack’s would-be murderer. Not only that, I tracked down the other party involved. Anyway, how could my asking about an old friend from my hometown put me in danger?”

  “An old friend? Myrtle never mentioned her sister. You didn’t know Lorraine existed until a few weeks ago.”

  “They’d have no way of knowing that.”

  Wesley shook his head. “I give up. It’s obvious I’m not going to change your mind.”

  “No one could, not after what I saw.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Susan told Wesley about her vision on the party barge. “I’m sure Lorraine was pleading for me to help find her murderer.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I kept hoping she was still alive, but then the flotilla recovered her remains. Anyway, what good would it have done to tell you about my vision? That’s not exactly evidence. I’ve got to do what I can to help you solve her murder. Only then will Lorraine’s tortured soul find rest.”

  Chapter 4

  By the time Susan arrived at the Bawdy Boutique the following morning, A. K. had already opened the shop and was on her second cup of coffee.

  “Whatcha doing here so early?” Susan asked

  “Before I left yesterday, Victor Fleming, the manager of the Pirates’ Reef, faxed all the details of the festival. Are you ready for a shocker? It’s this weekend. Guests usually arrive on Thursday, but things really kick off on Friday through late Saturday night. We need to get there before noon on Wednesday and set up shop. He sent directions to the hotel and a map showing the location of our kiosk.”

  “Wednesday? That’s tomorrow. Unless I’ve missed something, you’re not exactly loaded with pirate costumes.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. I got in touch with a distributor in New Orleans. He had a variety of outfits for men and women that fit that time period, even had British navy costumes. Nothing like having both sides of history present. He’s sending the order by truck this morning. That’ll give us time to tag the merchandise.”

  Susan hiked an eyebrow. “I’m sure this rush order didn’t come cheap.”

  “The freight will cost a little more, but we can’t afford to run short. They’re expecting a huge turnout. If we make a good showing, we’ll have a chance to get a lock on this event.”

  Susan shared A. K.’s excitement, but when it came to finances, Susan wasn’t one to rush into things. But this was a partnership, after all, and A. K. was in charge of the costume shop. Susan could only hope the festival would prove to be a wise choice. Besides, Susan had another motive for making the trip. She’d be smack in the middle of Lorraine’s stomping grounds. She felt sure she could find out about Lorraine’s past. After all, the Mississippi Coast didn’t have nearly the population of Vegas. More than likely, she’d find someone who knew Lorraine.

  “What are you grinning about?” A. K. asked.

  “Just thinking how much fun this is going to be. When it comes to business, you’ve never steered me wrong, and I’m not about to second-guess you now.”

  A. K. fanned her face with her hand. “Quit blowing smoke. You’re up to something, and I hope it isn’t what I’m thinking.”

  “Oh, here come the girls,” Susan said, glad for the chance to change the subject. “I’ll bring them up to date while you see about renting a van.”

  A. K. checked her watch. “It’s time to open the Purple Pickle, so I’ll take care of our arrangements from my office.” As she walked toward the front door, she wagged a finger at Susan. “About our conversation, it’s not finished.”

  After waving to A. K., Susan explained the situation to the employees. “If all goes well, we might become a permanent fixture at this festival.”

  “Ooh, I want to go,” Debbie said.

  “Maybe next time. Right now, I need you and Sheila to oversee the boutique and the costume shop while we’re gone. Isabel, you work with Debbie in the costume shop, and Nadine, you work with Sheila in the boutique.”

  The two new employees nodded.

  “Always tomorrow or next time,” Debbie whined with a crooked grin on her face.

  “Extra keys to open and close are in the cash registers. Put them on your key ring this morning. Melanie, I’d like for you to float between the two stores, and I have another favor to ask of you. Would you mind feeding Marmalade Saturday morning and cleaning out her litter box? That way, she’ll be good until I get back Monday. I know that’s asking a lot, but I’ll make it up to you
. She’s never a happy camper when I board her.”

  “No problem. I have a cat and know the routine.”

  Susan handed a spare key to her apartment to Melanie. “Her box and food are in the utility room, along with plastic bags for the dirty litter. The dumpster is at the end of my street. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Come on, Isabel,” Debbie said. “We’d better get next door.”

  After Debbie and Isabel left, Susan turned to Sheila. “You’ll find a box of swimsuits in the warehouse. Let’s get them displayed. Spring is right around the corner. Nadine, Sheila can show you the code we use to show the cost of the item. Add forty percent to that for the selling price.”

  A customer entered the store.

  “I’ve got her,” Melanie said.

  Susan returned to the office to look over a catalog showing a line of spring dresses. She jumped when someone knocked on the glass panel. Wesley and Dylan stood staring down at her.

  “That’s a good way to give a girl a heart attack,” she said, rising from her desk. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough,” Wesley said. “Do you always twirl you hair around your finger when you read?” Both he and Dylan grinned.

  “Guilty. It’s a habit I’ve had for as long as I can remember.”

  “I see you put Nadine to work,” Wesley said, pointing to the employee.

  “You know her?”

  “Well, yes. Her father is my boss.”

  “Chief Smith? I never made the connection.”

  “Nice choice,” Dylan said, eyeing the attractive girl.

  “We can’t stay,” Wesley said. “We’re on our way to the landing. I want to be there when the lunch crowd arrives. Maybe we can turn up something.”

  “Remember the festival I told you about the other night? Well, I just found out it’s this weekend. A. K. and I are leaving in the morning to set up our shop.”

  A slight frown crossed Wesley’s brow. Susan knew he didn’t want her asking questions about Lorraine, and he showed it. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, and she didn’t give him time to reconsider. She looked past him to the front of the store.