“Oh my gosh,” Melanie said. “Is his dad okay?”
“He was when we left. The hospital was surprised at how fast he seemed to recover.” Susan set her cup in the sink. “Okay, ladies, we have lots of unpacking and restocking to do, so let’s get started. Oh, before we start, does anyone know of a good painter?”
“You mean for the back of the building?” Nadine asked.
“Yes, I need to get some estimates.”
“I’ll ask my dad,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll know of someone.”
For the rest of the morning, a few of the employees inventoried the costumes, then unpacked new spring arrivals and tagged them. Others manned the floor. After lunch, everyone helped to wait on customers.
The shop was in high gear when Wesley arrived. He made his way through the shoppers and worked his way to Susan. “Am I allowed in here, or is this an all-girls’ club?”
“This way.” Susan led him to the back office. “I told everyone about the festival and all the other stuff that happened. Did you and Dylan meet with Chief Smith? By the way, where is Dylan?”
Wesley took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Dylan’s father died.”
Susan couldn’t believe it. “But the hospital said he was doing great, that he could probably go home in a day or two. What happened?”
“All I know is that Kerry was visiting when Chief Powell suffered a massive heart attack.”
At the mention of Kerry’s name, an icy chill snaked down Susan’s back, and her knees buckled. She sat down hard in the chair, jarring loose the tears that had formed in her eyes.
Debbie was standing outside the door. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Poor Dylan; that’s horrible.”
The other employees seemed to realize something was wrong and made their way toward the office. “What is it?” Melanie asked.
“Dylan’s father passed away this morning,” Susan said. “We can talk about it later and make arrangements to send flowers, but if you all don’t mind, I’d like a word in private with Wesley.”
“Of course,” Debbie said.
“Is Dylan still in town?” Melanie asked. “I’d like to tell him how sorry I am.”
“He’s on his way to Mississippi,” Wesley said.
“Then it’ll have to keep,” she said.
Susan closed the office door, and the employees moved to the front of the shop. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to Wesley. “Was Kerry alone with the sheriff?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Maybe now you can understand my frustration. It’s a terrible feeling to know something bad is likely to happen, but not know what or when. I hate that I see these things!”
Susan broke down and sobbed. Wesley gently pulled her up from the chair and took her into his arms. “Lorraine cried out to you, and with your help, we found her killer. She’s at peace now because you didn’t ignore what you saw. A few months back, your vision helped to save Jack’s life. You should embrace your gift, be glad you can help people. And, Susan, never be afraid to come to me. I’ll always be here to help you.” He kissed the top of her head and continued to hold her until she stopped crying.
When he released her, she grabbed some tissues from her desk and wiped her face.
He took her hand and held it close to his chest. “I’m sorry you saw what you did. But you have to realize, there are countless Kerrys and Betty Sues in this world. As much as you’d like to right every wrong, you can’t. No one can. But telling Dylan was the right thing to do. It’s a battle he’ll have to fight.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I know exactly how you feel. I have unsolved cases that still eat at me. At least you have your businesses to take your mind off things. My job doesn’t allow me that escape.”
Wesley put his hand under her chin and tilted her head. “You’ll be glad to know I visited with Myrtle this morning. She was relieved to hear we had identified Lorraine’s murderer and even more relieved to hear that he had committed suicide. She said she’d hate to think he was on the loose, that he could cause someone else the heartache she had experienced. While we talked, she walked over to the mantel and stared at the photographs of her family. That’s all she has now—memories. They’re all gone. She’s going to need your friendship.”
“I’ll make sure she’s not forgotten.”
“Believe it or not, I do have some good news, but right now I really need to get back to headquarters. I’ll tell you all about it tonight over supper. How about Dino’s? Say seven o’clock?”
“I’ll be ready. I could use some good news.”
A. K. bumped into Wesley as he was leaving. “Don’t run off because of me.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” he said. “Susan can catch you up on everything.” He hurried out the front door.
A. K. stopped and glanced down at her outfit. “I was convinced this would attract men, not scare them off.” Then she blew her breath into her palm. “Yep, brushed my teeth, too. So what’d I miss?”
“Your clothes and hygiene had nothing to do with him leaving. Give me a minute to gather my thoughts.” Susan sat down at her desk, a scowl across her face.
“Well, whatever you’re going to tell me can’t be good,” A. K. said, taking a look at Susan’s expression. “Let me get a cup of coffee before you unload.” She filled a mug, took several swallows then glanced again at Susan. “That bad, huh? Okay, let me have it.”
“Chief Powell is dead.”
A. K. leaned back against the counter and stomped her foot—once, twice, three times, and every time, she let a curse word fly. “I thought his dad was recovering. What happened? When did he die?”
“He had a massive heart attack this morning while Kerry was visiting him. The hospital staff couldn’t revive him. Dylan’s on his way to Mississippi now. And…”
“And what?”
“I don’t believe it was natural causes, and neither does Dylan.”
“I can understand Dylan wanting to blame someone. He’s hurting.”
“No, it’s more than that.”
A. K. set down her cup and clutched her arms as if whatever Susan was going to say could be contagious. “You saw something, didn’t you?”
“I had this vision the day we left. It shook me to the core. I think Dylan blames himself for not heeding the warning.”
“What warning?” A. K. asked, taking another sip of coffee.
Susan told her about the scene over Randy’s grave.
“Girl, you do have some gruesome visions.” She poured the last of the coffee into her mug. “I could use something a little stronger about now, but this’ll have to do. You were right to tell Dylan, and Wesley was right when he said you can’t solve the problems of the world. You’re back where you belong, back to what you know best. Give your undivided attention to the boutique and the costume shop and don’t let your mind wander.”
Susan forced a weak smile. “Maybe being home will lessen my visions.” She would like to think her work and life in the small community might help.
“Where’s the money box?” A. K. asked. “I know we made a ton at the festival.”
Susan handed her the cash box. While A. K. stacked the bills according to their denomination and separated the charge slips into another pile, she rattled on about the costumes, the band, and the ballroom. “I can’t wait for next year.”
“I can. In fact, I think I’m going to let some of the employees have a go at it. Considering everything, I don’t want to cross paths with Betty Sue or Kerry.”
“Well, it’s not the only festival in the world. Let me see what I can find. We need to offer a sale here, too. Got to keep the customers happy.” A. K. set her cup in the sink and waved her bejeweled fingers at Susan. “Later, friend.”
Susan worked the floor with her employees for the rest of the afternoon, and about five o’clock, called it a day. She wanted time to get a bath and relax before having dinner w
ith Wesley.
At seven o’clock sharp, Wesley pulled up at the Pine Crest Apartments. He had scrubbed from head to toe and was pretty sure he had removed all traces of his trip into the woods. He even checked for ticks, nasty little buggers. He wore navy slacks, a pale blue dress shirt, and a camel blazer.
“Hello, handsome,” Susan said, opening the door.
He paused and looked at her. “If I hadn’t made reservations, I’d suggest we make it an evening at your place. I could sit and stare at you forever.”
“That wouldn’t be much fun,” Susan replied with a mischievous grin.
“Thing is, I had to pull strings to get us a table. They’re always crowded. I wouldn’t want to miss our time.”
Dino’s was a favorite dining spot a few miles east of Hammond, no more than a thirty-minute drive from Susan’s. They arrived in plenty of time, but the parking lot was already filled. Wesley finally found a parking space on a side street.
As soon as they entered, the maître de checked his list and escorted them to a table for two far from the kitchen. For that Wesley was grateful. Nothing like the constant to-and-fro of waiters to ruin the ambiance or disrupt a conversation.
They ordered drinks and studied the menu.
“So, what’s the good news you have?” Susan said.
The waiter returned with their drinks.
“First a toast to the prettiest girl here,” he said.
He could have sworn Susan appeared nervous. Was she afraid he was going to say something that she wasn’t ready to hear? Something like suggesting they cement their relationship? She should know him better than that. He’d never push her, even if he was ready to take the next step.
Susan licked a dab of salt from the rim of her margarita. “Have you heard from Dylan?”
“He called with the arrangements. The funeral’s set for Wednesday at eleven a.m. at the First Baptist Church in Gulfport, burial to follow in the church’s cemetery. The sheriff will be buried next to his wife. After that, there’ll be refreshments in the fellowship hall.”
“What do you think Dylan will do about his dad’s death?” she asked, buttering a cracker.
Wesley shrugged. “I know what I’d do. I’d have toxicology check for anything that might show his heart attack was induced.”
Susan placed her knife across her saucer. “I hate to think what happened in that room. I’m sure Chief Powell didn’t suspect anything. My guess is that Kerry probably had his back to the sheriff, maybe looking out the window when he introduced a lethal substance into the IV. At least, that’s how I hope it went down—that it was quick, and the sheriff didn’t suffer.”
“You could be right. Had Kerry suffocated him, there would have been evidence of petechial hemorrhaging in Chief Powell’s eyes. Kerry’s slick, all right. I’ll give him that.”
“Enough speculation. It’s too depressing. Tell me your good news.”
“I had reason to visit Edith Nelson’s case again today.”
“Don’t tell me you got a lead on the missing girl.”
“Looks that way.” He told her about the hunter finding the bracelet. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the initials; then I compared it with the description in the file. It matched. The lab has it now. Chances are slim the technician can turn up anything after all this time, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed. It was in an area that wasn’t considered in the initial search. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Like Gretel, maybe she dropped it to help searchers follow her trail.”
“My thoughts exactly. Gold doesn’t deteriorate, and she was wearing gold earrings and a chain with a cross when she was abducted. Maybe she managed to discard her earrings. The cover of darkness would have made it easier for her to drop things.”
The waiter interrupted their conversation to take their order and retrieve the menus.
Susan lifted her napkin from her lap and dabbed the sprinkling of salt from her mouth. “What about your workload? Do you have many new cases?”
“A couple and they take priority over my cold case.” He strummed his fingers on the tablecloth. “I’ll just have to put in more hours if I want to pursue the new lead.” He looked up and grinned. “Think you can get along without me for a while?”
“You know what they say about absence.”
“That’s bull, and you know it.”
That night, Wesley didn’t return to his apartment until almost dawn. He and Susan talked into the wee hours on one thing that mattered the most—each other. While they agreed they wanted a future together, neither mentioned the word engagement.
Wednesday morning broke clear and mild. Wesley picked up Susan at eight thirty, and they drove to Gulfport with Chief Smith and a deputy-driver following. The church was easy to find, but a parking place came at a premium. Motorcycles and patrol cars from both the state and city police lined the street leading to the church.
“Looks like they’ve marked off a few places for the general public in the parking lot,” Wesley said. “Let’s hope the church has seating available for everyone.”
The church was packed, mostly with men in uniform. Flowers covered the back wall and easels rambled halfway down the aisles on either side of the church. Dylan stood tall and erect beside his father’s open casket, greeting the mourners. While he gave the impression of strength, bloodshot eyes and deep shadows underneath them told another story, one of sleepless nights and a grieving son.
Kerry stood near the front of the main aisle, also greeting people and directing them to Dylan. The site of him turned Susan’s stomach. She wanted to scream, “Judas,” and bring all eyes to bear on him—a snake, a serpent of the devil. That was out of the question, at least for now. But his time was coming. Of that, she was certain. She was determined not to look at him again, and instead concentrated on Dylan.
Knowing how much he must be hurting, Susan wondered how she would cope when her parents were laid to rest. Probably not as well as Dylan, she thought. When she approached the casket, she wrapped her arms around Dylan and held him close as she whispered her condolence in his ear. His long, lean body quivered beneath her embrace, and it was all she could do to turn him loose. Without his mother or his father, Dylan was truly alone.
Wesley, the chief, and the deputy who drove the chief shook hands with Dylan. How cold, she thought. When, if ever, do men set aside their macho façade? Caring about someone and showing it doesn’t make one weak.
The service was touching, and the pastor, who knew the sheriff well, told what a wonder father he was to Dylan, about his many contributions to the community, and how he was loved by all. Susan and Wesley sat on either side of Dylan, and Susan held his hand. Dylan kept his head down during the service, his way of hiding his tears, but she was privy to his deep sighs and slight trembling.
As an ex-navy man, Chief Powell received a twenty-one gun salute at graveside, and the honor guard presented Dylan with the flag. Afterwards, state and nearby city policemen began to leave. Those more intimately involved with the sheriff stayed to spend time in fellowship. Wesley and Susan waited until most of those in attendance had visited with Dylan then motioned him over to them.
“You gonna be all right?” Wesley asked.
Dylan nodded.
Susan took his hand. “You need to be careful, Dylan. I realize what I saw doesn’t make it so, but most of the time my visions are spot on. It’s important you know that Kerry is not the friend you think he is.”
“I’m beginning to believe that. You’d be amazed how many times I’ve been approached in the last two days by deputies urging me to run for sheriff. They said Kerry was not to be trusted and accused him of going behind my dad’s back on crucial decisions. Some knew for a fact he had tampered with evidence in a couple of homicides and had also diverted funds for his personal use. One deputy suggested I check the conveyance records. He said I’d find where Lightfoot had accumulated a number of prime properties. No way Kerry could have purchased the properties o
n his salary.
“My only chance at getting to the bottom of everything is if I can replace Kerry as sheriff of Gulfport. Looks like I don’t have a choice but to resign my Louisiana commission and throw my hat in the ring. I’m friends with the mayor and most of the city council, and I’ve lots of friends who will speak for me. I stand a good chance of being appointed.” He put his other hand on top of Susan’s. “In the meantime, as the highest ranking deputy, Kerry will be the interim sheriff. I’m sure he’ll throw his weight around. I’ll just have to bide my time. Thanks to you, I won’t be going into this blind. You can bet I’ll keep watch on Kerry every step of the way.”
“I’ll hate to lose you, partner, but I totally understand,” Wesley said.
“We’ll all miss you,” Susan said.
Chapter 15
Thursday morning at Palmetto’s headquarters, Chief Smith announced to everyone that Dylan had resigned. “He’s hoping he can win the favor of the mayor and city council, and that they will appoint him as the sheriff of Gulfport. I know Dylan will do a good job. At this time, I want to introduce you to a new employee, Charlie Morgan. Charlie is new to the Hammond area, having served with the Baton Rouge Police Department for the past three years. His parents are elderly and live in the Springfield area, and he made the move to be closer to them.”
Charlie gave a nod to those in attendance.
The chief shifted his gaze to Wesley. “Meet your new partner.”
Wesley sized up the man who came up to about his chin. However, he was built like a fullback and would probably be a good man to have in a fight. The two men shook hands.
“Well, that’s it,” the chief said. “You can get on with what you’re doing.”
“Welcome aboard.” Wesley pointed to an empty chair next to his desk. “Have a seat, and we’ll get this partnership underway. By the way, are you married?”
“So far, I’ve managed to avoid that.”
“I take it you’ve worked homicide.”
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