The Corpse Wore Cashmere

by Sylvia Rochester

  She decided she shouldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Maybe they could make sense of it. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thought. “There’s something we’re missing, or something that’s yet to happen.”

  Wesley eyed her with a questioning gaze. “I know that look. You saw something else, didn’t you?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure out its meaning, but I keep drawing a blank.” She looked at Dylan. “I hope you don’t think I’m crazy.”

  Wesley gave a low groan. “I told Dylan about your visions, and he’s onboard with them, so let’s have it.”

  Dylan leaned closer. “I believe in that sort of thing. Some people just have a gift, Susan. Give us a shot. What have you got to lose?”

  Susan felt uncomfortable discussing the subject with Dylan, but she also knew that as partners, Wesley and Dylan had no secrets between them. If Wesley trusted Dylan, so could she. “The first vision I had was when Lorraine’s face appeared beneath the water, and we know where that led. But on several occasions, a bright light has appeared. It all but blinds me. From the center, long rays extend out in all directions, and the light disappears as quickly as it comes. I’m left with tears rolling down my cheeks while my eyes adjust to normal conditions.”

  “What happens right before you see the light?” Dylan asked. “Are you talking to someone in particular or looking at a specific object?”

  She shook her head. “No. It can appear at any time, even when I’m sleeping. What could it possibly mean?”

  They rode the rest of the way to the hotel in silence. Neither Wesley nor Dylan had an answer.

  It was after one o’clock in the morning by the time they arrived back at the Pirates’ Reef. The crowd in the ballroom had thinned considerably, but the music was still at full volume. Jack and A. K. were still at their table, nursing a drink.

  “I love your outfit, especially your hair.” A. K. said giving Susan the once-over.

  Susan had forgotten she was still wearing Wesley’s windbreaker, and her wet, stringy hair clung to her forehead. “Latest trend, don’t you know?”

  “Dylan stopped long enough to tell us Randy was dead before he bolted out of here,” A. K. said. “Is it true? He’s really dead?”

  Wesley pulled out a chair for Susan, and he and Dylan gathered around the table. “Too much noise in here. Why don’t we go where we can talk?”

  They relocated to a table in the back of a lounge where Wesley filled in A. K. and Jack on what had transpired at the Silver Sands Motel.

  “Guess that wraps up your case,” Jack said.

  “Not exactly to my liking, but yes,” Wesley said.

  “Anybody want anything to drink?” Dylan asked. When everyone passed, he ordered a beer. Afterwards, he took a long pull and said, “If you all will excuse me, I want to see if my, uh, dance partner is still around.” He strode out of the lounge, beer in hand, and in the direction of the ballroom.

  “It’s getting harder and harder to keep up with that boy,” Wesley said, glancing at Susan. “Don’t know about you, but I’m ready to call it a night.”

  “I’m with you,” she said, pushing up from the table.

  “We don’t have to get up early,” A. K. said. “Check out is one p.m. What say we start packing up about noon? That should give us plenty of time to load the van.”

  “Works for me,” Susan said.

  She and Wesley told them goodnight and took the elevator to the second floor.

  “I can’t believe it is over,” she said when they entered her room, “unless my vision of the bright light points to something totally unrelated.”

  “I know how you feel. Things are just too disconnected, and I’ve never had a case yanked from my hands. I want to see it all wrapped up in a neat package…no loose ends. This doesn’t work for me.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Myrtle, how she’ll take the news about Randy. Do you plan to tell her about Lorraine blackmailing Karl or that she was skimming from the escort service? What exactly are you going to say to her?”

  “I’m going to tell her everything. Myrtle’s no dummy. She had to suspect Lorraine was involved in something. The worst thing I can do is perpetuate a lie.”

  “Myrtle’s not the only one who suffered because of Lorraine. Karl’s suicide has affected a lot of people in Palmetto. Zelda will need help coping with his loss. I’m amazed how one person’s greed can wreak such havoc on a community.”

  Wesley turned his head toward his shoulder and wrinkled his nose. “Talking about reek, I could use a shower and change of clothes, and I’m sure you’ll want to get out of your costume.” He made his way to the door. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  By the time he returned, Susan had finished her bath and changed into something comfortable. She donned an ecru knit top and a pair of dark brown slacks.

  “You look great,” he said, “but I have to admit, I liked your pirate costume, too.” A mischievous grin crossed his lips. He took her in his arms and kissed her. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

  She nibbled at his neck. “Me too.”

  “I don’t know about you, but the explosion, Chief Powell’s heart attack, and Randy’s death has left me beat.”

  “So am I. You know, it’s been a long time since you just held me.”

  He slipped his arms around her, and they lay back on the bed.

  “I want us to make reservations this summer for somewhere on the coast, maybe Destin. We need time together, away from everyone and everything, time to really get to know one another again. So much has happened since we went our separate ways. You’re not the boy I once knew, and I know I’ve changed. Let’s be honest. The physical attraction is as strong as ever, but we both have obstacles to overcome. I don’t know if I can adjust to your job, knowing that every time you leave, you could be killed. And don’t tell me my visions aren’t a problem.” She snuggled closer. “And here I thought coming home and rekindling our relationship was going to be easy.”

  “Easy? Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, but whatever our problems, we can overcome them. We’re right for each other. I know that much.”

  He stared up at the ceiling. She’d have given anything to know what he was thinking. If only she could see into the future, know for sure that everything was going to work out for them, but she couldn’t. For now, she had to be content that he was near. Lying with her head on his shoulder and arm across his chest, she soaked in his warmth and listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing. Soon, it lulled her to sleep.

  Sometime before dawn, the blinding light yanked Susan from her sleep. The light…so brilliant…it obscured everything. With arms flailing, she squeezed her eyes shut and shouted for Wesley. When his strong hands gripped her wrists, she stiffened. Was it him? Or…? Then his deep voice answered her prayers. She was safe.

  Wesley stood and pulled her into his arms. “You’re okay,” he said, trying to console her.

  When she opened her eyes, the vision was gone, and so was the light. “Why am I still seeing it?”

  “Maybe it’s trying to tell you that this ordeal is over. You know, like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.” Not only did his eyes betray him, so did his forced smile.

  “Nice try,” she said, finally regaining her composure.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t come up with anything better. Once we get back to Palmetto, maybe you won’t be bothered anymore.”

  “I hope you’re right.” But Susan knew that until she could decipher its meaning, the light would continue to plague her.

  Chapter 12

  Sunday morning, Susan and Wesley stepped off the elevator to a lobby swarming with people and piles of luggage. Seemed most of the guests were anxious to get an early start on going home, and Susan was among them. She couldn’t wait to get back to Palmetto and into her normal routine. Thank goodness, she didn’t have a long drive ahead of her.

  The restaurant was packed, too, and buzzing with convers
ations about the festival. From what she picked up, it seemed the majority had enjoyed their stay. She recognized a few customers that she’d outfitted with costumes.

  One of the women stopped her. “My husband loves the way I look in my costume. I can’t wait to see what you’ll have next year. You will be here, won’t you?”

  “I hope so.”

  The customer eyed Wesley. “Well, I’m holding you up. Enjoy your breakfast and have a safe trip home.” The woman turned back to her friends.

  A group of about five crowded around the hostess. Wesley managed to get her attention and held up two fingers. She pointed to a table near the window. “We’d better grab it while we can. How about trying the buffet?”

  “That’s fine with me. It would probably be faster.” Susan left her tote in her chair to indicate the table was taken.

  The aroma of bacon and fresh coffee set her stomach to rumbling. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten much the past few days, and that wasn’t good. If she let her resistance get run down, she’d be susceptible to catching something—the flu, a stomach virus, or something. She definitely didn’t want that. She had too much to do upon her return to Palmetto.

  “I don’t see Jack or A. K.,” Wesley said as they made their selection.

  “A. K. jumps at a chance to sleep late. Sooner or later she’ll straggle down for a bite to eat. We have plenty of time before checkout.” She nudged Wesley. “Here comes Dylan.”

  “Late night?” Susan asked.

  “Too late,” Dylan said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Care to join us?” Wesley asked as he led the way to their table.

  “Thanks, but I really want to check on my dad.”

  Wesley tossed Dylan the keys to his truck. “Have you heard how’s he doing?”

  “The hospital called late last night. They seemed surprised at his recovery. The nurse said based on his enzyme levels and other vital signs, they were moving him to a room. He keeps asking when he can go home.” Dylan gave a big grin. “That’s a really good sign.”

  “I’m glad,” Susan said. “Be sure to give him a hug for me.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be back in time to help load the costumes into the van.”

  As Dylan left the restaurant, Wesley took a sip of coffee and stared at his partner over the rim of his cup. “It’s easy to think of your loved ones as being invincible even though we know that dying is a certainty. It takes something like this to make you face reality.”

  Susan thought how Wesley and Dylan crossed paths with criminals daily who at any moment might target them. Maybe believing they were invincible was what allowed Wesley and Dylan to do their job without fear.

  Wesley continued to talk about Dylan, and Susan knew it was Wesley’s way of sorting through his own feelings—the earlier loss of his partner, Terrance, and even more devastating, the loss of his parents. His next statement confirmed her belief. “You know Dylan’s mom died several years ago, and the sheriff raised Dylan. He’s an only child and will be all alone when his dad dies. I was lucky to have my parents for as long as I did.”

  Susan reached across the table and placed her hand on Wesley’s. “Dylan won’t be alone. He’ll have us.”

  Susan stiffened when she caught a strong floral scent. She looked around to see Betty Sue standing behind her. Didn’t the woman know one wasn’t supposed to bathe in one’s cologne? She wore a lavender, fitted skirt and jacket with a pale-yellow, silk shell. A single strand of pearls and matching earrings were a tasteful and elegant selection. Too bad it was a total misrepresentation of the woman beneath the clothing. To Susan, rhinestones and black crepe would be more reflective of Betty Sue’s personality.

  Considering her own wardrobe, Susan could have selected a more fashionable outfit for the trip home, but she wanted to be comfortable and wasn’t looking to impress anyone.

  “I suppose you’ll be heading back to Palmetto now that the festival is over,” Betty Sue said to Susan.

  “Indeed.”

  “Well, don’t forget my offer. I’m sure I could make it worth your while.”

  “Thanks anyway, but I’m not the person you’d want to hire for the job. I love what I’m doing.”

  “Pity,” Betty Sue said in a dismissive voice, and then she turned her attention to Wesley. “You have a safe trip, too, and take care of Dylan. The man is prone to act without thinking.”

  “Really? That’s not the Dylan I know,” Wesley said. “Besides, you needn’t worry about him. I have his back, and I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

  Susan could tell Wesley didn’t appreciate Betty Sue’s snide remark. She, on the other hand, smiled as if he had paid her a compliment. “Gotta run. I’ve so much to do.” Tossing her hair, she strolled out of the restaurant like a model on a runway, leaving in her wake the overpowering scent of gardenias.

  “What’s all that stuff about an offer?” Wesley asked.

  “Betty Sue thinks I’d make a perfect hostess, one who would work well with her escort service. Do I look that naïve, that I’d let her dictate to me?”

  “No, but I can see where you’d have clients lined up, hoping for time with you.”

  “In their dreams.” Susan pulled the napkin from her lap and wiped her mouth. “All of a sudden, I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Same here.” Wesley paid the ticket, and they left.

  In the lobby, they ran into Jack and A. K.

  “Y’all eat already?” A. K. asked.

  “We tried the buffet. It was really good,” Susan said. “I don’t think we need to check out, since our rooms were free, but I’ll make sure we don’t owe for anything. When y’all finish eating, we can start boxing up the loose costumes in the kiosk. Oh, and I still have to bring down my luggage.”

  A. K. slipped an arm through Jack’s. “I’m way ahead of you, kiddo. Jack brought down our luggage. It’s near the front entrance. Uh, where’s Dylan?”

  “He went to check on his dad,” Wesley said. “I guess I’d better see to my room and his, in case he’s running late. After that, I’ll help you with your luggage, Susan.”

  “No need to bother. I’m packed, and my luggage is on wheels. I’ll get it while you tend to your rooms. A. K., after you and Jack finish eating, meet us in the lobby. We’ll unload the kiosk then.”

  At the front desk, Wesley paid for his and Dylan’s rooms. “All we have are athletic bags. We didn’t bring enough to fill a suitcase,” he said as they took the elevator.

  “I’m sure I’ll beat you downstairs. Look for me in the lobby. If I’m not there, I’ll be at the front desk. I want to tell Miguel goodbye.”

  Just as Susan had said, she returned to the lobby well before Wesley and left her luggage next to A. K.’s. Spying Miguel behind the front desk, she headed his way. He was flagging vacated rooms for housekeeping when Susan tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Hello, pretty lady,” he said. “I sure hate to see you go.” He motioned to one of the employees. “Take over. I’ll be back in a minute.” Holding Susan’s arm, he escorted her to comfortable chairs in the lobby. “Are you ready to load your van?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, let me know if you need any help.”

  “Could you have one of your guys keep an eye on our luggage until we can get everything loaded?”

  “Of course.” He leaned a little closer. “Your favorite person just left. She and Mr. Fleming went round and round about the new hostess. I could have told him from the start he was fighting a losing battle. The escort service brought in a ton of money, and he wasn’t about to give that up. Sure enough, he caved and gave the hostess her walking papers.”

  “I’m sorry the woman lost her job. It’s not right. But to answer your earlier question—yes, I saw our friend, or rather, I smelled her. The woman needs a lesson in how to properly apply cologne. Can you believe she had the nerve to offer me the job of hostess? Said she’d make it worth my while.”

  “You didn’t—”

 
“Of course not. I’ve worked too hard to establish my businesses. She might think money is the answer to everything, but it isn’t.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I want to thank you for all your help and remind you to keep the Purple Pickle in mind. You’d make a great salesman.”

  “You never know. One day, I might give it a try.” He gave her a studied look. “You know, you would make a terrific hostess.”

  Susan laughed. “That’s never going to happen.”

  Dylan entered the hotel and waved to Susan. “Where’s Wesley?”

  “Gathering your luggage.”

  “I’d better get up there and pull my weight.” He headed for the stairs.

  “How’s your dad?” she called after him.

  “He’s doing fine. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Do you need help emptying the kiosk?” Miguel asked.

  “I think we have it covered. Thanks, anyway.”

  “Well, I’d better get to the desk and lend a hand.”

  Susan settled back into the chair and waited for Wesley’s return. Out front, a never-ending stream of cars and vans pulled up to the front door as guests loaded their belongings and took off for places unknown. The chatter was still about the festival and what a wonderful time they’d had. No doubt, they’d return next year and bring their friends.

  She wondered what the future held for these strangers, what stories they had to tell. Did any share her ability? What extraordinary adventures were waiting for them? It would be nice to look into their future. But society didn’t operate that way. People were destined to spend their lives in their own little world.

  “Is that your luggage?” Wesley asked, pointing to a pile of suitcases with a garment bag draped over them. One of the bellhops stood nearby.

  Susan nodded, and Wesley and Dylan dropped their travel bags beside Susan’s luggage.

  “As soon as A. K. and Jack get here, we can start unloading the kiosk. So, tell me about your father, Dylan.”

  “Dad looks great and is in good spirits. He was sitting up watching TV when I entered. He assured me he felt fine and wanted to go home. Said the hospital was no place to rest. The nurses were in and out all night, drawing blood, checking his pressure. How was he supposed to rest?