The Corpse Wore Cashmere (3 page)

“You can do better than that,” he said, capturing her lips and kissing her hard and long.

When their kiss ended, she continued to hold him close. “I’ve missed you.”

He peeled her arms from around his neck. Smiling, she tapped a finger against his lips. “I was just about to grab a bite to eat. Care to join me?”

“Sure.” He took off his windbreaker and laid it across a chair.

While she prepared sandwiches, she could feel him staring at her. “Do you like what you see?”

“Every inch.” He grunted a laugh. “I was hoping we’d have more time together after you set up shop in Palmetto, but with the attempted murder with Jack and now Lorraine’s murder, we can’t seem to catch a break.”

Susan served the sandwiches. When she poured the tea, he caught her hand. “How do you do it?”

“What?”

“Always look like a million dollars.” His hand caressed her arm. “All you have to do is bat those big, brown eyes at me, and I’m a goner.”

In the next instant, he was standing, and she was in his arms. His manly scent triggered a warm, tingling feeling. When his hard body pressed against hers, she melted against him. The sandwiches could wait. Their time together was scarce, and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity get away.

Clothes dropped like a sudden shower, and he carried her down the hall. He was her man, the only man she had ever wanted. Lost in his arms, she shut out the world and all its problems. They shared an intimacy too long denied them.

Later, as both drew breaths of contentment, Wesley propped up on one elbow. “I could go for that sandwich now.”

She gave him a gentle push. “I’ll be right behind you.”

By the time Susan threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, Wesley had already downed his sandwich and was making another. Shirtless, and wearing unbelted Khaki pants, he looked too good to resist. She eased beside him and traced the sprinkling of hair that crept upwards from his waist to his chest.

When he turned and drew her to him, she whispered in his ear. “If I don’t eat something, I’m going to faint.”

He stepped back and pulled a chair from the table. “Well, we don’t want that.”

Susan took a few bites and drank some tea. “Where do you go next with the investigation?”

“Huh, you name it. We’ve barely scratched the surface. Until we can identify the mystery man or the boat, we’re in limbo. I’m going to check with every boat owner at the marina and keep questioning the customers at the Rusty Nail.”

“You know what bugs me? According to Myrtle, Lorraine had a good-paying job as a casino hostess in Biloxi. Why would she give it up to come back to Palmetto? What could this little town offer her?”

“I thought about that. Because she did come home makes me think someone from Palmetto might have killed her. What we need is a motive. Any ideas?”

Susan shrugged. “It’s hard to picture anyone from here committing such a heinous act. I’d just be guessing. Like you said earlier, nothing goes unnoticed in Palmetto. Whatever the reason, it’s bound to surface.”

Wesley pushed up from the table. “I hate to eat and run, but I really need to get some shuteye.”

“I could use some z’s myself. All the work we did preparing for the Purple Pickle’s grand opening has left me exhausted.”

“I forgot to ask. How’d it go?”

She locked arms with him as they walked into the front room. “It couldn’t have been better.” She paused before opening the door. “For Myrtle’s sake, I hope they find what’s left of Lorraine.”

“Me too. If they recover anything else, I’ll let you know, but chances are, you’ll hear about it as soon as I do. Damn press.”

The following morning, Susan awoke to rain, gusty torrents that slapped against the window. She didn’t envy Wesley having to spend the day on the river in such miserable conditions. Pushing back the cover, she climbed out of the warm bed. Marmalade groaned her displeasure at being disturbed and curled into a ball on top of the comforter.

Susan ruffled the animal’s fur. “If there’s such a thing as reincarnation, I want to come back as a cat.”

Bleary eyed, Susan shuffled to the bathroom, lit a Hawaiian bamboo aromatherapy candle, and slid into a warm bath. “Just five minutes,” she said in a voice still gravelly from sleep. Lately, she had little time to indulge herself. She eased further down into the tub and breathed in the soothing scent of passion fruit. Her movement sent ripples across the surface of the water, ripples that reminded her of the river…the cold, unforgiving river that held the remains of Lorraine.

Susan sat up with a jerk, flipped the lever to drain the tub and grabbed a towel. Stepping out of the tub to dry off, she made sure to step on the bath rug. It wouldn’t do to slip again on a wet tile and hit her head.

After drying off, she opened her closet. No high heels today. Instead, she chose a pair of low-cut suede boots, navy slacks, and a light-blue turtleneck sweater. To glamorize the outfit, she slipped two serpentine necklaces over her head and fastened a pair of hoops into her pierced ears. A plain gold bracelet and a topaz dinner ring completed the outfit. As owner of the Bawdy Boutique, she wanted always to look chic.

On her way to work, Susan stopped by Tilly’s Diner. Tonya, her high school classmate and current owner, served a mean omelet, and she also brewed a great cup of joe. Pulling into the parking lot, she realized she wasn’t the only one to have that idea, especially on such a dreary morning. The diner was packed, and she was lucky to find a vacant table.

“So, what’ll it be?” Tonya asked with her pad and pencil ready for the order.

“Your Mexican omelet and a cup of coffee, please.”

“It’ll be about ten minutes,” she said looking around at the full house. Then she leaned closer to Susan. “I know you and Wesley are tight. Did he have any news on Lorraine, other than the partial recovery?”

Susan shook her head. “They’re still searching. Maybe we’ll hear something today.”

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but hear what you ordered,” a deep voice said. “I’ll have the same.”

Tonya scribbled his order. “Looks like you have company, Susan.”

She glanced up to see her favorite surgeon. “Jack, what a surprise.”

He wore a heavy five-o’clock shadow, and it seemed he was straining to keep his baby blues open. “I had back-to-back surgeries last night and am just heading home. Can’t wait to crash.” He stretched his shoulders and finger-combed his dark hair from his forehead. “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”

“Of course not.”

He dropped his newspaper on the table and tapped the headlines. “It’s terrible about Myrtle’s sister. I talked to A. K. last night, and she told me about your premonition.”

“Oh?” Susan wished A. K. hadn’t, even though it wouldn’t come as a shock to Jack. He, of all people, understood. His gaze lingered on her face as if reading her mind.

“Hey, if anyone would believe you, it’d be me. I shrugged you off once, but never again. I hate to think what might have happened if you hadn’t uncovered those who wanted to see me dead. Thanks for being persistent.” He stared hard at her and frowned. “I am surprised you’re still having visions, though. I thought as your injury healed, they might fade. How do you feel about having that ability?”

“If I could stop it, I would.”

“Why? You’ve already proven you can use what you see to save lives.”

“Yeah, but what do I do about the nightmares, the anxiety that follows each episode?”

“If you want, I can give you a prescription to help you sleep.”

“If they get any worse, I might take you up on that.”

Tonya brought their breakfast, and the conversation changed to talk about the hospital and the new costume shop. Before long, they had finished their meal.

“Well, I’m out of here,” he said, putting a twenty on the table. “My treat.”

“Thanks. A. K. will be envious that I had breakfast with her significant other.”

“You, she trusts. Give her a hug for me.” Jack waved to Tonya as he headed for the door.

Susan gathered her purse, scooted out of the booth, and hurried to her yellow Camaro. The rain had slacked to a drizzle, and there were breaks in the clouds. Maybe Wesley would be spared a wet day after all. By now, he should be on the river.

She turned on her radio, remembering what he had said about the presence of the news media. The deep voice of a morning talk show host rambled on about the prospect of gas prices going higher but didn’t mentioned anything about the dragging operation.

Before pulling onto the highway, Susan stopped for a fast-moving black van. It sped past, kicking up a spray of water. The word
Coroner
was stenciled in white letters on the side panel. Swallowing hard, she fought back a bitter taste in her mouth. The presence of the medical examiner could mean only one thing—the recovery of additional remains. The car behind her honked, and she shook the thought from her head. Raising her hand, she signaled to the driver she was sorry and drove onto the highway toward the Bawdy Boutique.

To Susan’s surprise, she had arrived before anyone. She unlocked the front door. Inside, she stooped to pick up yesterday’s mail, which had scattered on the floor beneath the drop slot.

An engine rumbled, and A. K.’s red Mustang swung in beside Susan’s Camaro. She exited the vehicle in a flash and strode toward the shop. “I almost beat you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t, as fast as you drive. Shouldn’t you be opening the Purple Pickle?”

“In a minute. Give me a chance to grab some coffee and see what’s on the agenda for today.”

“Making money,” Susan said with a grin as she turned on the lights. “I’ll let you do the honor while I check the mail.” They walked to the office at the back of the store from where she could look out over the boutique through a glass partition.

“By the way, I love your outfit,” A. K. said. “Did you ever think about modeling? You’re a beautiful woman, tall and slender, just the look they like.”

“Life on the runway is a short-lived career. There’s longevity in what I’m doing.”

“Just a thought,” A. K. said, glancing out over the shop. “Don’t imagine we’ll have near the customers we had yesterday. I gotta say though, the opening was a hoot.” A. K. opened a cabinet and made the coffee.

“It was fun, wasn’t it? Oh, I ran into Jack at Tillie’s this morning.”

“I know. He called me on the way to his apartment. You know you can’t keep anything from us. I didn’t think you’d mind if I told him what you said about seeing Lorraine’s face, considering he already knew about your—uh, what do you call it anyway—a gift?”

“Sometimes it seems more of a curse. No, Jack understands more than anyone, but I don’t want it blabbed to just anyone.”

A. K. tsked. “As if I’d ever do that.”

The front door opened. Debbie, Sheila, and Melanie made their way to the office.

“Ah, the smell of coffee,” Debbie said. The employees filled their mugs. “I heard on the radio they discovered more remains.” She screwed up her face as if tasting something vile. “This time, they only found a torso.”

Susan grimaced, realizing a monster had chopped Lorraine’s body into pieces.

“Did they give any details?” A. K. asked.

“Just that it was a female.”

For several seconds, no one said anything. The only sound was the gurgling of the coffee pot.

“I know almost everyone in Palmetto and can’t imagine anyone capable of committing such a fiendish crime,” Melanie said.

“I hope you’re right,” Susan said.

Everyone migrated to the coffee pot and refilled their mugs. Susan couldn’t help but notice that Melanie’s hand trembled as she took a sip. Melanie, more than anyone, knew the pain of losing a loved one at the hands of a criminal. Her husband, Terrance Olivier, had been Wesley’s partner. The two had been in pursuit of a suspect. When Terrance opened the door to a trailer, a meth lab exploded, killing him instantly. Terrance’s body had shielded Wesley from serious injury.

How did one ever get over something like that? While Susan’s nightmares speculated terrible things, Melanie’s were real. The blast had turned her handsome husband into a hideous-looking monster. The skin was burned from his face, his chest and arms ripped by shards of glass. And if Wesley had opened the door instead of Terrance, well, she…she didn’t want to think about that.

“Last night, you said you were going to see Myrtle. How did it go?” A. K. asked Susan.

“Terrible. The two sisters might have had their differences, but Myrtle was thrilled to have Lorraine home. I’m sorry their reunion came to such a horrible end…that they will never know a future together. Today’s discovery will only make it worse.”

Again, the room fell silent.

“Okay, there’s nothing we can do except to stand by Myrtle and pray for her. We have to have faith that the law will catch whoever is responsible. In the meantime, try not to dwell on the morbid details. We have the boutique and the costume shop to run, and I’m counting on each of you to do your best.” Susan eyed her employees, who nodded that they understood.

While the employees rinsed out their cups, Susan opened the mail. “Ah, this looks good. Deb, think you could round up some of your model friends again? The women’s auxiliary at the hospital would love to have us put on a fashion show at their luncheon next week.”

“Sure. A fashion show is great exposure, especially for those models interested in a career in the fashion industry.”

“I can’t pay them anything,” Susan said, “but I’ll let them have an outfit of their choice at my cost. Melanie, I’d like for you to accompany the models.”

“Me? Maybe Debbie or Sheila would be better qualified. I’ve never done anything like that.”

“All you have to do is chaperon the models and write up sales.”

“Guess I could handle that.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll let the committee chairman know we’ll be glad to participate.”

“I’d like to bring up something,” A. K. said. “Now that we’re operating two shops, we’re stretched a little thin. Maybe we should consider hiring extra help, even if it’s part time.”

“I’ve been thinking along those lines,” Susan said. “Melanie, talk with the models at the luncheon and see if any of them might be interested. Debbie and Sheila, I know I can count on you to send me some reliable prospects to interview. I’ll place an ad, but word of mouth works well in a small town.” Susan glanced at her watch. “Okay, it’s time to open.”