11-Corpse Suzette

by G. A. McKevett

“The teddy bear’s name is Baby. I taught Sammy the cutest trick with it. You say, ‘Sammy go get your baby,’ and he’ll run and get it. Then you say, ‘Sam, love your baby,’ and he growls and shakes it like it’s a rat. It’s hysterical. Sammy lo-o-oves Baby.”

  Myrna collapsed into giggles, but Savannah continued to stare at the picture. “He’s really attached to it, huh?”

  “Oh yes. Suzette always took Sammy with her, everywhere she went. Everywhere! And wherever Sam went, Baby went. If she tried to leave the house without the bear, Sam would stand by the door and bark until she brought it, too.”

  Savannah mentally retraced her steps when she had searched Suzette’s house. Both times. She was pretty sure she would have remembered a teddy bear wearing a red and green plaid vest.

  So, Suzette wasn’t allowed to leave the house without Baby, huh? Interesting. One more reason to consider that maybe Suzette had staged her own disappearance after all. Leave the dog’s collar out in a conspicuous place, but take his favorite toy.

  She’d have to mention that to Dirk when she checked with him next.

  Thoughts of Dirk brought her back to the business at hand. “Myrna, I need to ask you about something.”

  “As a reporter, or a private investigator?”

  “Touché. As a plain old P.I. who’s no longer technically on the job, but eternally curious.”

  “Okay. Ask away.”

  “Who has keys to the medicine cabinet? The one there in Exam Room One, where Nurse Bridget takes blood samples.”

  “Keys? Well, let me see. Sergio and Suzette, of course. And Bridget. And Yasmina.”

  “Who’s Yasmina?”

  “Our anesthesiologist.”

  “Why haven’t I seen her around?”

  “She hasn’t been here because we haven’t had any surgeries scheduled.”

  “Who else?”

  “Well, I have a key that I keep here in my desk.” She opened the bottom drawer and pointed to a small key that was fastened to the side of the drawer with a piece of cellophane tape. “We keep one here, just in case somebody loses or forgets theirs and needs to get something out of the cabinet.”

  “And who knows that one is there?”

  “Pretty much everybody, I guess.”

  Savannah sighed. Everybody, she thought. Boy, that narrows the list—not at all.

  “So, tell me more about this anesthesiologist, Yasmina.”

  “She’s fantastic at what she does. She won’t have a problem getting work at another clinic. A bunch of Beverly Hills surgeons have been after her for years, trying to lure her away from Suzette.”

  “Do you suppose I could speak to her sometime soon?”

  “You could talk to her today, but as I said before, she isn’t here. She’s at Mystic Twilight, also packing up her things.”

  Mystic Twilight, Savannah thought. I need to check that place out anyway. “Could we maybe call her there? See if she’ll talk to me and if she’ll hang around long enough for me to get out there.”

  “Sure. I’ll give her a call right now and you can ask her.” She gave Savannah a funny little smile. “Anything for a girlfriend.”

  Dr. Yasmina La Rue sounded like a sweetheart over the phone, with a soft, Caribbean accent and a chuckle in her voice. But she also sounded like she meant it when she told Savannah, “I’d be happy to talk to you, dear, but once I’m packed, I’m leaving Mystic Twilight for good. You’d better hurry.”

  So Savannah didn’t dawdle about getting into the Mustang and heading into the foothills east of town. She called Dirk on her cell phone and gave him the news.

  “Where are you?” she asked him.

  “Just approaching the city limits. I got done in Santa Barbara a little early. Why?”

  “I’m headed for the Mystic Twilight spa in Hidden Canyon. I have a personal invitation from Suzette’s anesthesiologist, a lady named Yasmina La Rue. Have you been there yet?” she asked him.

  “No. The staff there at Emerge told me that nobody has been around there for a couple of weeks now, so I didn’t bother. Did you check out the keys there at Emerge... who had them, who didn’t?”

  “They all had one or had access to one. Everybody and their uncle’s dog’s first cousin. Nothing there.”

  “All right. You want me to come out there with you?”

  “Not particularly. I’m just going to poke around. If I see anything interesting, I’ll give you a buzz.”

  “Okay. I’m going to go back to the morgue and see if Dr. Liu has anything else for me.”

  “Give Kenny Slug Breath my regards.”

  “A one-finger salute?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Will do.”

  Savannah was upon Mystic Twilight before she knew it. Rounding a sharp curve about a mile into the canyon, she saw the entrance, a paved road with a discreet sign with a fancy, intertwined M and T.

  She turned onto the road and traveled another half mile or more between old gnarled oaks in a park-like setting.

  As always, when venturing into one of these canyons that were scattered among the hills of Southern California, Savannah felt a strange mixture of peace and unease. With her car window rolled down, she experienced the place with all of her senses. The ancient oaks, the smell of wild sage in the air, the taste of dust, the feel of the hot sun and dry wind on her skin, the sounds of birds, frogs, and crickets, along with a distant rush of a creek over its rocky bed; she felt she had stepped back in time.

  The Native Americans had considered these valleys sacred, forbidden ground. And when she was there, she felt like a careless interloper... as though the land itself was somehow aware of her. Aware, and not particularly hospitable toward her.

  She always breathed a sigh of relief when she left the valleys and returned to her own stomping grounds by the sea.

  Rounding yet another corner, she saw the spa, a large, square, flat-roofed building that looked like it belonged in Morocco, not sunny California.

  The exterior walls were stucco, painted a dark, terra-cotta. Mature palm trees planted all around the building added to the feeling that it was some sort of desert oasis.

  As she pulled up in front, she saw that a man-made stream crossed in front of the edifice, styled to look like the natural creek beds in the area.

  The front door was an elaborate, arched, wrought iron affair, surrounded by colorful tiles of deep blue and gold... more of the Moroccan influence.

  She left the Mustang and walked up to the door. She hurt her knuckles knocking on the door, and no one answered. Gingerly, she gave it a push, and it creaked open with a spookiness that she might have found delicious under other circumstances. But having just seen a dead guy and knowing that a woman was missing, she wasn’t in the mood for “creepy.”

  “Hello?” she shouted. “Anybody here? Yasmina? It’s Savannah Reid. Yoo-hoo.”

  As her eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight outside to the dark interior, she saw that the entrance was at least two stories tall, as well as wide and deep. More of the blue and gold tiles covered the walls and were arranged in ornate patterns on the floor. In the center of the room was a massive fountain, but it was dry and looked as though it hadn’t run for a long time.

  Three hallways branched off from the entry, heading in numerous directions. And each hall was even darker than the entrance.

  Savannah wasn’t eager to go roaming and exploring, even if that was the job description.

  Mentally, she checked her weapon, chose one of the hallways, and headed down it.

  Big girls aren't afraid of the dark, she told herself.

  Well, Sergio probably wasn't afraid of the dark either, and look at where that got him. He’s in a drawer in Dr. Liu’s morgue with an autopsy “Y” incision on his chest, her self replied.

  “Anybody here?” she called again.

  Her voice echoed off the tiles and came back to her, sounding a bit less confident than she wanted to feel. In fact, she sounded scared... and she wasn’t sure
why.

  It wasn’t just the dark. The dark felt ominous somehow. And the building didn’t feel empty.

  She felt as though someone... someone in the dark... was watching her.

  Stopping in the middle of the hallway, she looked back at the entry and its other corridors and said, “If you’ve got something to say to me, come out and say it. Don’t hide in the shadows like a coward.”

  She felt stupid. There was probably no one there, but—

  Then she heard it: a movement. It sounded like something had brushed against a wall. Softly. Barely. But there.

  She reached for her gun and pulled it from its holster.

  “Come on out,” she said. “I mean it. Come out now and put your hands up or I’ll shoot you.”

  Her adrenaline was pumping, her heart racing.

  She could almost hear someone breathing, there in the darkness where she had just stood. Whoever it was, was following her. At least trying to. But she wouldn’t stand for it.

  “I can see you,” she lied. “Gome on out now with your hands up! Do it!”

  Then she heard it, unmistakable this time. Someone was running down the opposite hallway, in the other direction. And running hard.

  Gun in hand, but pointed at the ceiling, she ran after them.

  If somebody was going to spy on her, she was going to know “who” and “why.”

  Ahead, at the end of the hallway, she saw a door open and bright sunlight stream in, but only for a moment. Then it slammed closed.

  She raced to the door and carefully, cautiously opened it.

  The sunshine was blinding, but she saw a figure directly in front of her. She lifted the gun and pointed it. “Freeze!” she shouted. “Hold it right there. Hands up and don’t you even twitch!”

  “They’re up!” the figure said. “I’m not moving. Don’t shoot!” Her eyes adjusted, and she realized she was aiming her gun at Jeremy Lawrence.

  He was standing there, six feet in front of her, his hands and arms raised, a look of alarm on his face.

  “Why were you spying on me?” she demanded.

  “What? Spying? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie to me. You were back there in the entry area. You were watching me. I chased you out here, so don’t act like you don’t know what’s up here.”

  “I was over there...” He lowered one hand long enough to point at a smaller building across a large patio area. “...saying goodbye to Yasmina. I was coming over here to the main building to lock up. I think I saw somebody run out just now, before you, but I didn’t get a good look at them.”

  She studied his perfect, beautiful face and saw absolutely no expression. His pale blue eyes gave nothing away, nothing at all.

  He was remarkably cool for a guy who was on the receiving end of a big bad Beretta.

  And that could mean that he was innocent. Or very, very good at being guilty.

  She scanned his figure quickly, but saw no outline of a weapon beneath his thin silk shirt or in his twill slacks.

  Lowering her gun, she said, “You must have seen something. Was it a man or woman?”

  He dropped his hands. “I don’t know. I just caught a glimpse and—”

  “Big or small?”

  He shrugged. “Really, Savannah. I didn’t even get a look, just a blur of movement and that was all.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be at Emerge, helping with Abigail’s makeover,” she said as she reholstered the gun. “I just left you there.”

  “I probably left a few minutes before you did. I heard that Yasmina was here, packing and getting ready to go. I had to say good-bye to her. I’m heading back to Emerge right now. They’re coloring and cutting Abigail’s hair. That’ll take a while.”

  Savannah felt the war inside herself... the trusting, kind, loving person whom Granny Reid had raised to always be fair and never accuse an innocent person of wrongdoing... versus the cop who had been punched, spit on, shot at, and lied to twenty times in one evening.

  She decided to let Granny’s girl come forward and deal with Jeremy Lawrence. At least for the moment.

  She offered him her hand. “I’m sorry about the gun, Jeremy. I hope you understand. I’m investigating a murder here and a possible kidnapping.”

  His blue eyes widened. “A murder? Sergio was murdered?”

  “Yes. The lab reports are in and the M.E. is ruling it a homicide.”

  “Oh, no! That’s horrible.” He shook his head as though in disbelief. “It’s bad enough that he died. But we figured it was natural causes. Murder? Who would want to kill him?”

  “You tell me, Jeremy. You tell me.”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. He wasn’t exactly a gentleman where women were concerned... or, I hate to say, an especially good businessman. But to have someone deliberately kill him! Are you sure?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes, but if you could keep that to yourself...”

  “Sure. I understand. You don’t want the person who did it to know that you know what they did.”

  “Right.”

  “I need to get back to Emerge now,” he said, “if you’re finished with me, that is.”

  “I am. Thanks, and sorry about the gun business.”

  He smiled his soft, peaceful, ethereal smile. “It’s forgotten. Just catch whoever did that to Sergio and help find Suzette. That’s all we want right now, Savannah.”

  “I’m trying. I’m trying.”

  Savannah watched the young man walk into the building and close the door behind him. And she wondered. He was so perfect. Perfectly handsome. Perfectly poised. Perfectly mannered and perfectly groomed.

  Yes, she’d definitely have to keep a closer eye on Jeremy Lawrence.

  Nobody on God’s green earth was that perfect.

  Chapter

  15

  Savannah found Dr. La Rue in the small building across the patio, where Jeremy Lawrence had indicated he had just spoken to her. The tiny black woman had an enormous smile for Savannah when they met in the middle of a hallway. She was struggling to carry a cardboard box that looked nearly as big as she was.

  “Dr. La Rue, I presume. I’m Savannah. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said. “Here, let me take that.”

  “I’ve got it. I’ve got it,” Yasmina said between huffs and puffs. “More like it’s got you. Gimme that thing.”

  Savannah took the box from her and instantly realized why the doctor was having a difficult time. The box was not only large but extremely heavy.

  “What do you have in here? Lead? Water? A dead body?” Yasmina threw back her head and laughed heartily. The sound went through Savannah and gave her the same warm feeling that she got from hugging Granny Reid.

  “A bit of all three, my dear,” the doctor replied as she opened a door and ushered Savannah back outside. “How kind you are to give an old woman some help.”

  Savannah studied the doctor over the top of the box as they headed toward a parking lot and a beautiful, navy blue Jaguar. Dr. La Rue could have been any age, from late thirties to sixty. It was difficult to tell. Her skin was a delicious shade of bronze and glowed with health; her eyes were bright with intelligence and warm with kindness. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and Savannah was sure that her own right thigh weighed more than the whole of the other woman.

  “You don’t look that old to me,” Savannah said as Yasmina opened the trunk of the Jaguar and motioned for her to place the box inside.

  “I’m older than these hills,” she replied, gesturing to the mountains around them. “Older than trees and dirt. And so are you. Don’t you believe that? Can’t you feel it in your bones, child?” Savannah jostled the box until it fit and closed the trunk. “Oh yeah,” she replied. “And some days these bones feel even older than that, depending on what I’ve been up to.”

  “And what are you up to on this fine day?” Yasmina dusted her hands off on the bright blue and purple tunic she wore over dark blue pants
. Her ears and neckline sparkled with blue and purple beaded jewelry that might have been considered by some to be too large for such a small person. But Dr. Yasmina’s personality easily carried such a bold statement.

  “Like I mentioned on the phone, I’m a private investigator and—”

  “And what are you investigating?”

  “The disappearance of Suzette Du Bois.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “And the murder of Sergio D’Alessandro.”

  Dr. La Rue gasped and put her hand over her mouth. She staggered backward and leaned on the Jaguar’s trunk. “Murder? His murder, you say?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry to say so, but it appears now that he was a victim of homicide.”

  “How? How was he killed?”

  “Apparently with an overdose of Bot-Avanti, that new botulism drug the clinic has been using instead of Botox. Someone put a lethal amount into the B12 solution he normally takes.”

  The doctor was obviously, deeply affected by the news. She shook her head several times, as though denying the information. Then tears sprang to her eyes.

  Savannah cursed herself for not telling Yasmina more gently. How many years had she been informing people of horrible, heartbreaking things. She should have known better.

  “Are you all right?” She reached for the doctor’s arm. She could feel her trembling and was afraid she might faint. “Why don’t we open the car door so that you can sit down?” she suggested.

  “No, I’ll be okay. I just... oh, this is so terrible.”

  She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. Savannah fumbled in her purse and brought out a handful of tissues.

  She stood silently by, allowing the woman time to cry and then to partially compose herself. Finally she said, “I can see that you and he were very close. I’m sorry for your loss... and for the awful circumstances of his death.”

  Yasmina took a deep, shuddering breath. “Sergio and I weren’t close,” she said. “I don’t believe Sergio was close to anyone in his entire life. He just didn’t have it in him. But murder. Murder is such a deep, horrible evil. It upsets...” She waved her arms, indicating the mountains, the trees, that surrounded them. “...it upsets the balance, the harmony of nature. It is a wickedness that damages us all.”