When Wesley returned to his unit, a woman was talking with the chief.
“Thanks to this young lady, we caught this one just in time,” the fire chief said.
“Melanie? What are doing here at this time of night?”
“I thought I left the coffee pot on and came to check on it. Glad I did. When I parked out front, a dark car sped from behind the building and onto the highway toward Hammond. It was too dark to get a description, but I think it was an SUV. I drove around back to make sure everything was okay, and that’s when I saw the dumpster in flames against the warehouse. Poor Susan; she doesn’t deserve this.”
“It could have been lots worse if you hadn’t shown up when you did. Her whole store could have gone up in flames. As it is, she’ll only have to spring for a new paint job.”
“What do you think happened?” Dylan asked the fire chief.
“Soon as I get a look inside the dumpster, I’ll be able to tell you something.”
The flashing lights on the fire engine and on Wesley’s vehicle caused a couple of curious onlookers to pull into the parking lot.
“I’ll take care of them,” Dylan said.
“Whose cars are those parked in the back lot?” the chief asked Wesley.
“The yellow Camaro belongs to Susan Griffin, and the red Mustang belongs to A. K. Williams. Susan owns the Bawdy Boutique and is in partnership with Ms. Williams in the Purple Pickle next door. They’re away on business.”
“I’ll need to notify Ms. Griffin.”
“Chief, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to tell her,” Wesley said.
“Sure, but I will still have to contact her officially. Being no one was injured and there’s minimal damage, I suppose it can wait awhile.”
“Wesley, I know how much Susan and A. K. were so looking forward to the Biloxi trip,” Melanie said. “They sank a lot of money into the costumes. Please tell her not to rush back here, that everything is okay, and we can handle it.”
“I will.”
With the fire doused, the chief had his men pull debris from the dumpster. “Well, I can tell you this much—it wasn’t an accident.” He pointed to a half-melted gas container. “Anyone have a grudge against her?”
Since he didn’t know whether or not she had stepped on some toes in Biloxi, Wesley would only be speculating. “No one around here that I can think of.”
“Susan couldn’t possibly have any enemies,” Melanie said. “She has such a good heart and is always willing to help everyone.”
“Then maybe it was meant for one of the employees? Or it could have been just to see something go up in flames.” The chief readjusted his helmet. “There are a lot of crazies in the world.”
“Are you going to be okay, Melanie?” Wesley asked.
“Yes, and you make sure Susan knows that. She’s not to worry about the boutique.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wesley said with a grin. “Well, Dylan and I have another stop to make, so I’ll tell you all goodnight.”
Susan had tried without success to wrench herself free, but the man was too strong. His fingers dug deeper into her arm. If only she had a weapon. Then it dawned on her—she did. When they left the sidewalk and stepped onto solid ground, he turned to face her. Remembering her self-defense class, she drove her knee up and into his most vulnerable area. He doubled over and gasped for air. She bolted for the ballroom. In her haste to escape, she slipped and skinned her knees. Scrambling to her feet, she found traction and charged through the door onto the dance floor.
She saw Sam, leaning over the bar and watching her run through the crowd. He ran from behind the bar to meet her. “What’s wrong?”
Susan gulped air into her breathless lungs and said in a ragged breath, “He tried to drag me to the beach.”
“Who?”
“The man who was next to me at the bar, the one dressed as Blackbeard. Catch him!” she said, pointing to the exit.
“Take over,” Sam called to his assistant. In a flash, he sprinted across the dance floor and out the door.
Susan stared after him, hoping he could catch her assailant. A few moments later, Sam returned alone.
“I didn’t see anyone. Did you get his name?”
By now, her heart had stopped racing, and her breathing had returned to normal. “How about Blackbeard?” Her smirk told him she was being sarcastic. The fear that had consumed her a few moments ago had turned to anger. Fire crept into her cheeks, fueled by rage. Despite her determination to be careful, someone had found her out and managed to overpower her. Yes, she wanted to do everything she could to find Lorraine’s killer, but not at the expense of becoming the next victim.
Sam pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “I’m the bartender in the ballroom at the Pirates’ Reef. Someone assaulted a guest.” He paused and nodded. “Yes, she’s unharmed and with me now. Good.”
“They’re coming here? I don’t want to disrupt the festivities.”
“You won’t, but the police have to be notified.” He looked at the dance floor, packed with revelers circling the room to the beat of a Cajun Two-Step. “As far as I can tell, no one suspects anything. The supply room is behind the bar. It’ll give us privacy.”
Before long, two officers arrived, and the bartender escorted everyone into the supply room. Susan gave her name, address, why she was at the hotel, and an account of what happened. Sam did the same. All the while, one of the deputies took notes.
“If you’re finished with me, I need to get back to work,” Sam said.
The taller of the deputies nodded that he could go. “Ms. Griffin, I have a few more questions for you. How well did you know this man?”
“I only met him briefly last night. He was really into his disguise and preferred to remain anonymous. All I could see was that he had dark brown eyes.” She felt foolish that she couldn’t tell them more about her abductor.
“Besides his eyes, did you notice anything else? For instance, did he talk with an accent? Maybe he used a special aftershave you could identify. Did he smell of tobacco or walk with limp?”
“When he tried to force me away from the hotel, all I could think of was getting away.” She rubbed her brow as if to clear her mind. “Wait. There was something. He had a tattoo on the back of his right wrist—a trident.”
The deputy stopped writing. A puzzled look crossed his face, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
“You know. The three-prong staff Neptune carries.”
“So that’s what it’s called.” The officer added the information to his notes. “How long will you be staying at the hotel, Ms. Griffin?”
“I’m leaving Sunday.”
He handed Susan his card. “We’re going to do a perimeter search. If you think of anything else, call me. And I’d advise you not to venture out on your own.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Susan thanked them, and after they left, she returned to the bar.
Sam handed her a VO and Sprite. “I figure you could use a drink.”
“Thanks.” Maybe the alcohol would help calm her rattled nerves so she wouldn’t sound like a blathering idiot when she found A. K. She took a couple of swallows and scanned the ballroom, looking for her friend. What she saw sent a shot of adrenaline surging through her body. Blackbeard had A. K. in his arms. As he twirled her around, he guided her toward the exit.
“Sam, it’s him!” Susan bolted across the dance floor, catching up with them before they could open the door to the beach. Sam was right beside her. Susan grabbed the man’s arm and spun him around. In the next second, Sam pinned him against the wall.
A. K.’s eyes all but bugged out of her head. “What are you doing?”
Susan checked the man’s wrist. “It’s not him,” she said to Sam. Then she spotted another Blackbeard and rushed toward him. So what if the couple thought she was crazy? She didn’t care. All she wanted was to catch the man with the tattoo. Discovering she was wrong again, she apologized for interfering. “I’m sorr
y.”
Sam had followed her during her search. “I would think your Blackbeard is long gone, but I’m here if you need me.”
“You’re right. He’d be crazy to still be here.”
Sam returned to the bar as A. K. strode toward her, dragging the man in costume along with her. “What’s going on? Have you lost your mind?”
The man dressed as Blackbeard peeled the mask from his head.
Susan’s mouth flew opened. “Jack!”
“I never know what to expect when you’re around, but I never thought I’d be accosted. A little warning would be nice.”
“Care to tell us what this is all about?” A. K. asked.
“Let’s go where we can talk in private.” Susan led them to the front of the hotel and to a vacant area in the solarium. “Let’s sit here.” She pointed to a wrought iron table and chairs. After telling them about her near abduction, she said, “I find it hard to believe someone would come after me. It seems obvious I know nothing since I’m asking questions.”
“Maybe they want to keep it that way—that you don’t find out anything,” Jack said.
A. K. nodded. “Wesley warned you. I hope you’ll back off now.” A. K.’s voice softened. “I love you, honey, and don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I can tell you one thing,” Susan said. “I’ve sworn off anyone dressed like Blackbeard, but I’m keeping my eye out for that tattoo.”
“What tattoo?” A. K. asked.
“He had a trident on the back of his wrist.”
“You hear that?” Jack asked, taking A. K.’s hand. “They’re playing our song.”
“You sure you’re okay?” A. K. asked.
“I’m fine. You two go on and enjoy yourself.”
As Jack led her to the dance floor, A. K. glanced over her shoulder at Susan. “Come sit at our table.”
“Thanks, but I’m ready to call it a night. I’ve had enough excitement.”
She headed to her room, looking over her shoulder at every corner. When she finally closed the door behind her, the room enveloped her like a cocoon, blocking out the music and the revelers’ raucous noise, but her nerves were still on edge. She could not recall the last time her breathing or the beating of her heart was the only sound she heard. She shuddered, thinking what could have become of her. Never again would she trust a stranger.
After shedding her costume, she stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over her body. It slithered around her neck and across her shoulders, liquid fingers that massaged her tense muscles. Turning up the heat, she breathed in the steam as if to cleanse her lungs of the scent of him. She stood for a long time, letting the water and the mist work its magic. By the time she turned off the faucets, her finger tips had shriveled into ridges.
She toweled off, dressed in her gown and robe, then blow dried her hair. Like the night before, tiny lights from distant boats bobbed upon the Gulf waters. They seemed to dance to a silent musician. Their rhythmic motion was mesmerizing. She slid back the glass door and walked out onto the balcony. Below, a couple strolled on the beach, their laughter carrying on the wind. Her hands tightened around the balcony’s railing as she thought about her struggle to get free. Had she not escaped, she was sure her trek across the white sands would have been anything but delightful.
Stepping back into her room, she checked the time—almost eleven o’clock. She didn’t relish telling Wesley about the incident, but it couldn’t be avoided. She punched in his number.
“I’m glad I caught you. Where are you?”
“Dylan and I are on our way to the Rusty Nail with photos of Randy.”
“I’ll cross my fingers. Any more news on the investigation?”
“Yeah, lots, but I don’t have time to fill you in. We’re almost at the bar.”
Susan was hoping she could keep him talking. The sound of his voice was comforting. But since he didn’t have time to talk, she couldn’t very well tell him about her abduction. She welcomed the wait. Given more time, maybe she would handle it better. Right now, she was too uptight.
“I do have something to tell you,” he said, “before I hang up.”
Before she could say a word, Wesley brought her to her feet with his next line.
“There was a fire at the Bawdy Boutique tonight.”
Instantly, all thoughts of Blackbeard vanished from her mind. “A fire? Oh, no, how bad? Was anyone hurt? I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“Slow down. Everything’s under control. Only the paint on the back of the warehouse was scorched. The boutique is fine. If it hadn’t been for Melanie, the whole place could have burned down. She thought she had left the coffee pot on and went back to check on it. That’s when she discovered someone had set the dumpster on fire and pushed it against the warehouse wall. The fire department got there in minutes and put out the fire.”
“Bless you, Melanie. How did the fire start?”
“Someone tossed a gas container in the dumpster and ignited it. The chief said it could be an arsonist just wanting to set a fire or maybe vandals at work. I can’t imagine anyone in Palmetto wanting to do you harm. Do you think someone in Biloxi is sending you a message?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“Me neither, but I can’t ignore Lorraine’s cry for help. I was shown that for a purpose. I can’t just forget about her killer.” Quitting wasn’t in Susan’s vocabulary. She heard the sound of a car door slamming and loud music. “I gather you’re at the Rusty Nail.”
“Yeah, hold on a minute. Dylan, you go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” There was a pause, then he said, “Susan, I know you’re upset, but Melanie made me promise to reassure you that everything is okay. Some paint on the back wall will make it look like new.”
“Thank goodness. I’m lucky to have such wonderful help.”
“Try to put it out of your mind. I’ll call you first thing in the morning. Love you.”
“Love you too,” she said, lying back on the bed.
Susan hung up the phone. She was glad she hadn’t had to tell him about her encounter with Blackbeard. They’d both had enough excitement for one night. Unable to stop thinking about the fire, she sat on the side of the bed and placed a call to Melanie. “I’m sorry to call so late. Wesley just told me about the fire. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am now, but at the time, I was running on pure adrenaline. That was one time my being neurotic was a good thing, that and prompt attention from Wesley, Dylan, and the fire department. My stomach churns every time I think what could have happened.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Melanie. And I’m glad you’re neurotic.”
Melanie chuckled. “Never thought I’d hear that from anyone.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back?”
“Don’t you even think about it. We have everything under control, and business is good. You’ll find we made lots of sales while you and A. K. were gone.”
“How’s Marmalade? Does she miss me?”
“She’s fine. Miss you? She’s a cat. Even if she did, she wouldn’t show it. Oh, I almost forgot. You brother stopped by to see you. He didn’t know you were going to be out of town. He said to tell you it wasn’t important and that he’d catch you later. Well, I’d better get some sleep. You know how hectic Saturdays can be.”
“Goodnight, Melanie, and thanks again.”
Susan hung up the phone and tapped it against her cheek. So, Edward had paid her another visit. That convinced her that he was hiding something. Was it that difficult that he couldn’t find the words to tell her? He never was one to keep secrets, especially from her. Ever since they were little, they had always confided in each other.
If anyone knew the reason for his frequent visits, it would be her mother. Edward never could keep secrets from her. But that meant it couldn’t be something serious, or her mother would have told her. Guess she was jus
t going to have to wait until Edward decided to fess up.
Climbing back into bed, she was afraid to close her eyes, afraid she’d find herself in Blackbeard’s clutches. But struggle as she might to keep her eyes open, seconds after her head hit the pillow, she drifted off to sleep. In the foggy recesses of her mind, she heard the sound of someone knocking. It persisted, and Susan realized someone was at her door.
“You okay in there?” A. K.’s muffled voice asked.
Susan roused and opened the door. “I’m fine, just dozed off. You’re not going to believe it, but there was a fire at the Bawdy Boutique.”
A. K.’s face paled. “Bad?” She and Jack stepped into the room and closed the door.
Susan told them about Wesley’s call. “He said only the outside wall of the warehouse suffered damage.”
“Thank goodness Melanie showed up when she did. I’m beginning to think you’re jinxed.”
“Don’t you mean cursed? What time is it, anyway?”
“One a.m.,” Jack said. “I’m going to call for room service. We’re starving. You want anything?”
“No, thanks. All I want is sleep.”
A. K. gave her a hug. “Well, if you need us, we’re right next door.”
“Thanks. See you in the morning.” She closed the door, removed her robe, and returned to the bed. She thought about Wesley at the Rusty Nail and hoped Randy’s mug shot would help produce a witness. Tomorrow she would be anxious to hear what happened and about his visit with Karl. She wasn’t sure when that would take place or if Wesley had ever got his warrant, but apparently he still had his job…at least for now. A weary smile crossed her face, and she drifted off to sleep.
Wesley took a deep breath of night air before entering the Rusty Nail, where a nasty potpourri greeted him. The scent of stale cigarette smoke, alcohol, and a mixture of overpowering aftershave hung in the air. The smell didn’t seem to bother the customers who filled every table and most of the bar stools.
The Corpse Wore Cashmere Page 10
