Mellow Yellow, Dead Red

by Sylvia Rochester

  “That’s exactly what A. K. said, but it works for me. I feel safer driving this big baby.” Susan gave him a quick glance. “So, what’s the latest?”

  “A lot. Mind if we do the drive thru at Wendy’s? We’ll have privacy in the car.”

  “Fine with me. I have something I want to tell you, too.”

  Susan ordered a Monterey Ranch Crispy Chicken Sandwich and unsweetened iced tea. Wesley decided on a hamburger with fries and a coke. After several bites, he swallowed down some coke then turned to Susan. “Okay, you first.”

  Susan told him again about seeing Kara and the stranger in town. “I don’t know if Edward’s aware of this guy, but I didn’t like what I saw.”

  “You worry too much. He could be just a disgruntled customer.”

  “So says you and A. K. Maybe I am making too much out of it. So, what’s your news?”

  “Charlie’s on administrative leave.”

  That was the last thing Susan expected to hear. “Why? What’d he do?”

  “First thing this morning we paid the coroner a visit.” Wesley described in detail their trip to the morgue. “Looking at all those body parts wasn’t easy, even for me. I could tell Charlie was having a hard time handling it. He covered his mouth and bolted for the sink.”

  “I would have thrown up, too,” Susan said, “but I don’t see where Charlie did anything to be taken off the case.”

  “You will when you hear what happened next. Back at the station, the department received a call about a missing person, and since it seemed to fit our Jane Doe, Charlie and I went to check it out.” Wesley paused. “You ready for this? The missing woman turned out to be our victim, Nina Hasting. She was a waitress at the Rusty Nail and also Charlie’s latest conquest.”

  “Oh my gosh, did Charlie know she was the victim?”

  “Not until the coroner showed us an earring he had found matted in the victim’s hair. That’s when Charlie lost it. Still, he said nothing. It wasn’t until we were examining her apartment that he fessed up. Said he panicked when he recognized the earring and didn’t know what to do.

  “He said he was with Nina earlier in the week and was supposed to meet her the night of the fun run, but she stood him up. Then he showed me a photo he had taken of her. She was wearing that yellow blouse and the earring the coroner found.”

  Susan moaned. “Why didn’t he turn to you for help?”

  “Exactly. Talk about a punch in the gut. Charlie might be young, but he’s not stupid. By not coming clean, he only made matters worse.”

  “Do you think he did it?”

  Wesley shook his head.

  “Me neither. For one thing, the boot prints left at the site won’t match. Charlie’s foot could fit inside them. And the man who knocked me down was heavy set with a partial beard. Charlie is muscular and clean shaven.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not enough to exonerate him. We’ll need evidence to link the man in the woods to the murder if we’re to clear Charlie.”

  “Then find the truck that ran me off the road, and you’ll find your killer. I’m willing to bet the driver is one and the same.”

  “You think I’m not trying?”

  Susan knew the question was rhetorical. No one was more diligent at his job than Wesley.

  “The chief’s going to assign me a temporary partner. I hope he’s a seasoned veteran. I don’t have time to train a new recruit.” Wesley stuffed his leftovers into the Wendy’s bag. Squeezing Susan’s hand he said, “Trust me. I’m going to do all I can to clear Charlie.”

  “I wish I could help, but the only vision I’ve had is seeing the Indian, and I have no idea what that means. Maybe it’ll turn into something later, but right now, I have nothing. Let me ask you this. Do you think your cold case, the murder of Nina Hasting, and the appearance of the Indian might all be related?”

  “I don’t see how. But one thing I’ve learned when it comes to your visions is that anything is possible.” A grin curled his lips.

  Susan added her trash to the Wendy’s bag. “Well, we’re not going to solve anything sitting here. Guess we’d better head back.” She started the SUV and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

  Wesley raked his hand across his jaw as if checking for stubble. “I find it difficult to believe that all the recent events are related. Maybe my cold case, Nina’s murder, and your wreck might involve the same person, but I can’t imagine what the Indian has to do with anything.”

  “I have the feeling the Indian is depending on you to help with whatever it is. That’s why he first appeared standing next to you. I do know that he keeps trying to lead me into the woods. If we’re ever to solve the mystery, we should follow him.”

  “Tell you what. If I don’t soon get a lead on your accident or on Nina’s murderer, I’ll see what arrangement I can make. Only there’s a problem. Your Indian friend will need to show up. Since you have no control over your visions, how are you going to conjure up the Indian?”

  “Leave that to me.”

  On the outskirts of Palmetto, Susan stopped for a red light. As she sat there, a black Ford Escort in on-coming traffic, made a left turn. Susan hit her blinker, made an abrupt right turn, and sped after the vehicle.

  “Where are we going?” Wesley asked.

  “That’s him.”

  “Who?”

  “The man I saw arguing with Kara. Look. He’s parked on the street and is walking toward her door.” Susan tsked. “How ya’ like them apples? My brother’s hard at work, and this creep is hitting on his wife.” Susan drove past Kara’s place and parked in a neighbor’s driveway.

  “Don’t go jumping to conclusions. Like I said—it might be strictly business. If there is a personal problem, I suggest you not get involved. Chances are you’ll wind up the bad guy.”

  Kara opened the front door.

  “Thank goodness for tinted windows,” Susan said. “She can’t see us and definitely won’t recognize this car. Crack your window. Maybe we can hear something.”

  With arms crossed, Kara blocked the entrance to her house and shouted at the man. “What are you doing here?”

  “You know damn well—to collect,” he fired back.

  “Collect?” Kara pushed him back with the palm of her hand. “I don’t owe you anything. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”

  Susan grabbed Wesley’s arm. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  The man stood his ground. He took a look around at his surroundings—a manicured lawn and an up-scale house. “Looks like you’ve done well for yourself. You shouldn’t have any trouble paying up.”

  Susan gasped. “I bet Edward knows nothing about this guy.”

  Before Kara could say anything further, a white Chevy truck pulled into the driveway.

  “I ain’t believing this,” Wesley said. “It’s Charlie.”

  Kara leaned closer to the mystery man and whispered something. Susan couldn’t hear what she said, but the man turned and headed toward his car.

  “Am I too early?” Charlie called out.

  Kara’s demeanor changed. A beguiling smile and lilting voice suggested someone who hadn’t a care in the world. “Right on time.” When Charlie reached the front door, she took his hand. “Before we consult the cards, would you mind if I read your palm?”

  Charlie shrugged as they entered the house. “Whatever.”

  The door closed behind the two. Wesley and Susan stared at each other with mouths opened.

  “Does Charlie believe she can really tell his future?” Wesley asked. “Man, he’s reaching for straws. But considering his predicament, guess this is as good an option as any. Who knows? Maybe Kara will hit on something, crack the case.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. Besides, how would that help since you can’t discuss anything with him?”

  “Maybe I’ll pay Kara a visit, hear firsthand what she has to say. After all, she did mention the letter N. I kept hoping she’d forecast something about Edith. See
ms what she saw was Nina’s murder.”

  Susan glanced out the window, not wanting Wesley to see the look of disappointment on her face. She so wanted to be the one to help him.

  When the car on the street rumbled to a start, Wesley nudged Susan. “Let’s go. I want to get his license plate.”

  Susan pulled the slip of paper from her purse. “Done.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Wesley took the paper from her. “Okay, Sherlock, you’re now officially off this case. Promise me you’ll sit tight until I check out this guy.”

  “I’ll try. I really will.”

  Susan wished she hadn’t promised. Later that day, she must have reached for the phone a hundred times to call Edward. Why hadn’t she heard from Wesley? Surely, he’d found out something about the man by now. Tapping her pencil on the desk, she snatched up the receiver. She hadn’t promised Wesley not to discuss the matter with her comrade-in-arms over at the Purple Pickle.

  “A. K., you won’t believe what happened. Remember the guy we saw with Kara the other day? Well, he just showed up at her door.”

  “Hold on. I’m on my way. This, I gotta hear.”

  Susan could hear her partner calling to an employee before she hung up. “Debbie, mind the store. I’ll be right back.” A few minutes later, huffing and puffing, A. K. hurried into the office. “Tell me,” she said, plopping down in a chair.

  “I had just finished telling Wesley about seeing Kara with this strange man when I spotted him turning onto Kara’s street. Well, of course, I couldn’t let him get away.” Susan described what happened. “Wesley made me promise not to get involved until he checked out the guy, but I was going to explode if I didn’t discuss it with someone.”

  “Are you looking for advice from me, your jump-first-ask-later friend?”

  “Maybe. I know we’re impulsive, but we always manage to get to the bottom of things.”

  “Girlfriend, this time I have to side with Wesley. That guy could be dangerous.”

  Susan sighed, resigned to her fate. “Oh, there’s something else. They identified the victim in the swamp. She was a waitress at the Rusty Nail, Nina Hasting. Turns out she was Charlie’s latest conquest. That makes him a prime suspect. Until they can clear Charlie, he’s suspended. Poor Wesley, he’s some upset.”

  “No way Charlie’s guilty. That boy doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

  “I’m with you on that, but our opinion doesn’t count for much.”

  A. K. pushed up from her chair. “Guess I’d better get back to the shop. We’ve been busy today. Call me when you hear something from Wesley.” She tapped the phone on the desk. “And don’t you dare call Kara or Edward.”

  Susan nodded and waved her out of the office.

  Closing time came without a call from Wesley. She walked to the parking lot with the other employees and climbed into Big Bessie, the name she had given the car. On the way home, she slowed when passing the spot where the Camaro had gone airborne. “Try it again, you creep,” she mumbled, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “Bessie and I are ready.”

  She made it home safely. A light supper and a warm bath helped to relax her, but still, sleep didn’t come easy. After tossing and turning for an hour, she climbed out of bed. If only Wesley would call, maybe it would put her mind to rest.

  Marmalade followed her down the hall to the kitchen. The cat was always ready for a snack. Susan finished a glass of milk and gave Marmalade a small piece of cheese. “Okay,” she said to the cat, “let’s try this again.” She picked up her purse from the kitchen cabinet and returned to her bedroom.

  Once in bed, she continued to go over everything that had happened. She wished there was a pill that would shut off the mind. She tried picturing a blank wall, the blackness of space, but nothing worked. Forget counting sheep. Susan not only counted them but began naming them. Eventually, her gaze settled on her purse. The arrowhead was in there. “Should I?”

  She reached inside and found the stone. Clutching it in her hand, she lay back on the pillow. Once again, that tiny piece of rock turned warm. Either through a dream or a vision, she found herself in the woods. No wind. No sounds at all. Darkness cloaked any signs of life. A sylvan potpourri blossomed, mostly it smelled of pine. “Are you here?” she asked, feeling the Indian’s presence.

  He stepped from behind a tree only a few feet from her. In his hand, he held a broken bottle. Blood dripped from its jagged edges.

  Susan followed his gaze to a nearby cabin and to a shadowy figure crouched on all fours. The night distorted the images, painting everything in shades of purple. Try as she may, she couldn’t determine if the person was male or female.

  “Who is that?” Susan asked.

  The Indian remained silent, his eyes never wavering from the huddled figure.

  When Susan turned back, the person had fled, leaving behind a mound of leaves. She caught only a glimpse of someone plunging headlong into the briars and undergrowth. The only sound—the rustle of bushes and something like the whimper of a wounded animal.

  “Wait,” Susan shouted, but the person vanished. The Indian continued to point with the broken bottle at the spot beside the cabin. “I don’t understand,” she said. But the Indian had begun to fade from view. “No, don’t leave me here alone,” she cried.

  Susan awoke sobbing. Her arms and legs stung as if she had been ripped by thorns. Tossing back the sheet, she examined her legs and arms. No cuts. Not even a scratch. They were smooth and uninjured. She uncurled her clinched fist. The arrowhead lay cold in the palm of her hand. Had the artifact acted like a talisman and summoned the Indian? She hoped that was the case.

  She was glad to be back in her bed, but the memory of her vision, and she was sure it was a vision and not a dream, haunted her. Turning on the lamp beside her bed, she made sure everything was as it should be. It appeared to be so, yet something wasn’t right. Then it hit her. Why did her room smell of honeysuckle?

  By five-thirty that morning, Susan was up and dressed. She knew Wesley was an early riser, a hangover from his military days. She grabbed her cell phone and punched in his name.

  He answered on the first ring. “Hi, sweetie, you’re up early.”

  “Not by choice. We need to talk. Can you meet me after work?”

  “Probably. Anything I should know about now?”

  “It’ll keep till then.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick up something for supper. Say about seven?”

  “Great.”

  It was too early to go to the boutique, but not to stop by Tilly’s Diner for breakfast. Susan took a final look in the mirror. The gray skirt, black turtleneck, and a pique jacket matched her mood this morning. But a splash of color wouldn’t hurt. She reached into the closet and draped a multi-colored scarf around her neck. As she slipped on a pair of black, suede heels, someone banged on her front door.

  Who in the world would be here at this hour, she wondered. Then from down the hall she heard a familiar voice.

  “Susan, it’s Kara. I have to talk with you.”

  Chapter 10

  Through the peephole, Kara’s distorted face stared back at Susan. She couldn’t possibly have seen me the other day. And if this is about that stranger, she should be talking with Edward.

  “Please, Susan, I really need your help.”

  “Just a minute,” Susan said, gathering her thoughts. Remain calm. Give her a chance to explain. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “Sorry to barge in at such an ungodly hour, but I wanted to catch you before you left for the boutique.” As Kara stepped inside, a puzzled look crossed her face. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see your car out front.” She glanced back at the street. “Oh, that’s right. You had an accident. Did you buy a new car?”

  “I’m renting one for the time being.” Susan didn’t volunteer details on her selection. “Let’s go into the living room. What’s this all about?”

  Kara took a seat on the sofa, and Susan sat in
a side chair. It was evident Kara was distressed. Even makeup couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was pulled back and fastened with a clip at the back of her neck, a hurried coiffure and not at all like Kara. She wore tan slacks, a white knit top, and no accessories—no earrings, necklace, bracelets or rings—totally out of character for Kara.

  For a woman who usually projected an air of authority and confidence, Kara appeared bewildered and confused. She stuttered as if trying to find the right words. “I...I don’t know where to begin,” she said, fiddling with the back of her hair.

  “Maybe I can help. Is it about that man you met at Sue Ling’s restaurant, the same guy who later showed up at your front door?” So much for waiting for an explanation. A. K. was rubbing off on her.

  Kara stared wide-eyed. “How did you know about that?”

  “I saw you when I went to rent a vehicle, and later I spotted the same man turning onto your street. Wesley was with me, and we witnessed the scene at your front door.”

  The color drained from Kara’s cheeks. “I’m so ashamed. I can imagine what you must have thought, but it’s not like that.”

  “I hope not, because what I’m picturing isn’t pretty. I only have one question for you. Does Edward know about this guy?”

  Kara’s eyes welled with tears. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done—tell him about my past. Do you realize how wonderful your brother is? He forgave me, said he fell in love with the woman I am, not the woman I was. We have no secrets from each other. Whether you believe me or not, I love him with all my heart and would never do anything to hurt him.”

  “That’s typical of Edward, and why he’s so special to me. I couldn’t bear to see him hurt, either. So, who is this person?”

  “His name is Achille Cormier.” Kara dropped her head and in a voice barely audible she said, “He used to be my pimp.”

  Now it was Susan’s turn to go wide-eyed. Your pimp? Susan didn’t know what to say. She just sat there with her mouth opened.

  “I’m not proud of that. Having grown up in a loving family, you must be wondering how I could ever do such a thing. Let me explain. I wasn’t as fortunate as you. My mom died when I was six. Dad promised to take care of me, but he never could get over losing her and took to drinking. He worked odd jobs and barely scraped together enough to keep food on the table.