The Corpse Wore Cashmere (9 page)

A. K. opened the door. “Your timing is perfect.” She tossed her cell phone on her pillow. “I just finished talking with Jack. So, how’d it go with Miguel?”

Susan closed the door and plopped down on the bed. A. K. sat beside her. For the next several minutes, Susan told A. K. everything she had found out from her conversation with Miguel and Wesley.

“Are you serious? Karl with a hottie? Bet he had to pay extra.” A. K. laughed out loud. “I can see him cheating on Zelda, but murder? No way. At least, not by his hand. And I don’t ever remember seeing or reading where he owned a boat.”

“Me either.” Susan got up and paced the room. “I’m thinking he hired someone…someone from here.”

“Whoa! You’re reaching there, kiddo. Better wait and see what Wesley finds.”

“It’s just that I have this feeling….”

“Well, put it on hold. The crowds should be terrific tomorrow. It’s going to take both of us to handle them. You can’t be running off playing Dick Tracy.”

“I’m not going to leave the kiosk. I’ll be right there with you. What time do you want to start? How about we do the breakfast buffet about eight then open for business?”

“Works for me. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

On the way back to her room, Susan paused to look down from the mezzanine into the lobby. Group after group of people made their way into the casino. The clinking of coins being fed to the slots and cheers from winners at various gaming tables spilled out through the open doors. The sound only drew in others from the lobby. Some were already dressed in costumes, a sign they were ready for the festival.

As she eyed the throngs, she paid special attention to the men. Lorraine wasn’t exactly a wilting flower, and it would take a strong person to subdue her. Assuming she didn’t meet the mayor for drinks at the Rusty Nail, then whom? To leave with him aboard a boat, it had to be someone she trusted. A co-worker?

If only her visions would give her a glimpse of the murderer, but it never worked that way. She never knew what she was going to see. Usually it left her with more questions than answers. Not until all the pieces came together was she ever able to figure out the meaning.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, if only….”

Back in her room, she reached into her garment bag, took out her buccaneer costume, and laid it across a chair. The leather pants and silk blouse needed no ironing, and the unlaced vest brought a sly grin to her lips. A. K. was right. She needed to get with the program, show a little skin. After all, she was a lady buccaneer. They were bold and daring, if not downright sleazy. She couldn’t help but laugh at the thought and wondered what Wesley would think of her outfit.

She placed a couple of gold bracelets, a pair of hoop earrings, and a leather choker on the dresser. Then she held up the tall, black boots, a far cry from her high heels. She propped them against a chair and got out of her clothes.

After a shower, Susan dressed for bed and climbed between the cool, clean sheets. “One more thing,” she muttered. She picked up the hotel phone and requested a wake-up call for seven o’clock for the next three mornings. When her head hit the pillow, the worries of the day seemed to float away into oblivion. Sleep came within moments.

Thursday morning, Susan sat alone at a table in the hotel restaurant. That usually didn’t bother her, but wearing a skimpy outfit did. Not only was she drafty, she felt like a hooker. Sneaking a quick peak at her boobs, she tugged the neckline of her blouse a little higher. Even that didn’t help much. Being the entrepreneur that she was, she realized the outfit was just the prop she needed to promote her business. Instead of slinking down in her chair, she went on the offense. She smiled at each passing guest and suggested they visit the costume shop on the mezzanine.

By the time she finished her breakfast, A. K. arrived. “You’re late,” Susan said, tapping her watch. “It’s eight thirty.”

A. K. stared at her through bleary eyes. “So what’s new? This wench had a long night.” She smoothed her outfit, and unlike Susan, she tugged the opening of her blouse a little lower in the front.

“Really, A. K.? A rough night? In your dreams.”

“You’re right about that. But, oh, what dreams.” She smiled then gazed at Susan’s loosely laced vest. “Hello. You do have something there. Nothing that would give me competition, but for you to show anything is a first.”

Embarrassed, Susan crossed her arms. When she attempted to hike her neckline higher, A. K. held up her hand.

“No, don’t mess with a good thing.”

“Glad I meet with your approval. I could have used your help earlier soliciting customers.” Susan placed her napkin on the table. “Take your time. I’m going to open the kiosk.”

“I won’t be long,” A. K. called after her.

This time, Susan took the elevator to the mezzanine. Upon her arrival, a group of women stood peeking through the brass expansion gate that closed off the kiosk. “Good morning, ladies. See something you like?”

“Too many things,” one of the women said. “I can’t decide what I want to wear.”

Susan unlocked the gate and pushed it out of sight. “Maybe I can help.”

“I love your costume. Maybe I should try something like what you’re wearing.”

One look at the woman’s big boobs, and Susan knew the woman would do the outfit justice. “Let’s see what we can put together.”

While Susan assisted the woman, her friends had no problem selecting their outfits, including accessories. They approached the check-out counter with their charge cards in hand.

“Looks like you’ve done this before,” Susan said.

A buxom, gray-headed woman wearing way too much rouge wiggled her way to the front of the line. “We’re from New Orleans, my heart, where masquerading is a way of life.”

Spoken like a true native of the Big Easy, Susan thought. Before Susan could finish ringing up the sales, several men wandered into the shop.

Miguel walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Need some help?”

“Would you mind? A. K. should be here shortly.”

Susan helped an elderly man select a costume, while Miguel had fun outfitting the younger guys. A. K. showed up in time for the next wave of customers.

“Thank you, Miguel,” Susan said after the customers left. “I think we can handle it now.”

“Maybe I’ll hang around for a while, just in case.”

The foot traffic was nonstop until lunchtime.

“Whew, that was almost as wild as our grand opening,” A. K. said. “We’d better grab a bite to eat and give our tootsies a rest while we can.”

Miguel stepped forward. “Come with me. I’ll make sure you get a table and quick service.”

Susan locked the kiosk, and she and A. K. followed Miguel into one of the dining areas.

“Care to join us?” Susan asked.

Miguel shook his head. “Maybe another time. I have some things I need to tend to. Enjoy your meal.”

The waitress was friendly and fast, and the food was delicious.

“Have you heard anything further from Wesley? Did he talk to the D.A. about getting a warrant for Karl’s bank account?” A. K. asked.

“I suppose the D.A. didn’t get to his office till about nine, and it’s only noon. I don’t look to hear from him until tonight.”

A man wearing a dark, navy blue policeman’s uniform approached their table. “Excuse me. Are you two ladies in charge of costumes?”

Susan’s first thought was that they had been robbed, but Miguel had assured her they had security. She gave the officer a nod.

“Miguel told me I could find you here. I’m Deputy Kerry Lightfoot. Dylan was my partner in Gulfport.”

“Is something wrong? Did something happen to Dylan or Wesley?” Susan asked.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that.”

Then her mind skittered across their hasty exit from Palmetto. “Were we supposed to get a permit or a temporary occupational license?”

His deep voice set her mind at ease. “I wouldn’t know about that, but the hotel manager assured me everything is in order. Besides, this is not my jurisdiction.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. I’m Susan Griffin and this is my partner, A. K. Williams.” As she folded her napkin, the uneasy feeling in her stomach calmed. “What can I do for you, deputy? Do you plan to attend the festival? If so, I’d be glad to outfit you at no charge.”

“I’d like nothing better, but I’m on duty this weekend. I just stopped by to introduce myself. Dylan called last night and told me about the case involving Lorraine Thigpen. Biloxi and Gulfport aren’t far apart, and law enforcement eventually gets to know most of the casino and hotel employees. I’ve never heard anything bad about Lorraine, and as far as I know, she never got into trouble with the law. Anyway, Dylan asked if I’d do a little investigating on the side, see if I could find out why Lorraine left Biloxi, if she was close to anyone, and anything else that might help them.”

Susan hoped her face didn’t betray her feelings, but she didn’t appreciate Dylan calling out the posse, no doubt at the urging of Wesley. She wanted to be the one to find out answers. In less than a day, hadn’t she put Wesley onto Karl? What could this deputy discover that she couldn’t? In fact, she was willing to bet the employees would be more likely to talk to her than to a cop.

Lightfoot paused, and his gaze drifted from her to A. K. “He also wanted me to introduce myself to you ladies and let you know I’m available if you need any help.”

That was just like Wesley—he couldn’t be here, so he sent a surrogate to look after her. She appreciated his concern but wished he had a little more confidence in her.

A. K. took a sip of coffee and eyed the deputy over the rim of her cup. “You have quite a tan. With miles of beautiful sand, I suppose that’s a given.”

“To tell the truth, I avoid the beach whenever possible. The sand gets into everything. My tan comes from spending time on my boat. Fishing’s my thing.”

Susan studied the deputy. He stood about six feet tall with light brown hair. His smooth, tanned complexion accentuated vivid blue eyes that seemed to bore right through her. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a flat abdomen left the impression that muscles and rock-hard abs lay hidden beneath his pressed shirt. Deputy Lightfoot’s only negative feature was his hands—deeply tanned and scarred.

He followed Susan’s gaze and flexed his fingers. “Battle scars. Boats can do that to you. It takes a lot of time and hard work to keep one afloat and running right.”

The deputy flashed an infectious smile that showed white, straight teeth. One glance and Susan knew A. K. was fantasizing. Susan gave her a slight kick under the table to get her attention and save her from drooling.

“Have you uncovered anything about Lorraine that might prove useful?” Susan asked.

“Nothing so far.”

Even if he had discovered something, Susan doubted that he would tell her. Wesley only confided in her because of their relationship, and there were times he kept certain things to himself. If she wanted in on everything, maybe she should consider law enforcement as a profession. Come to think of it, she and Wesley would make a great team. She quickly shook the thought from her head. Nah, she’d hate having to wear a uniform. Clothing from the boutique was more her style.

This time, it was A. K.’s turn. She gave a slight nudge with her elbow and got Susan’s attention. “Is there anything else you want to ask Deputy Lightfoot?”

“Not that I can think of at the moment,” Susan said. “It was nice meeting you. In case we should need assistance, how can we reach you?”

He fished in his shirt pocket and handed her a Gulfport Police Department card. “Call the main number and dispatch will patch you through to me.” He dipped his head. “Hope you ladies enjoy your stay on the coast.”

Deputy Lightfoot made his way out of the restaurant, looking from table to table, nodding at guests as he left.

A. K. pushed back from the table. “Never thought we’d have a babysitter, but him I like. Guess that means I have to be good.” She gave a quirky grin. “Not. I sold Blackbeard costumes to a couple of cuties who asked for a dance, and I intend to press the flesh later.”

“If that’s all you do, we should be okay.”

“You ready?”

“I’ll sign the ticket and meet you upstairs.”

A. K. sashayed past the tables and out the restaurant.

Susan thought about what the deputy had said. He was from Gulfport and spends his spare time on his boat. Could he possibly…? No, she was really reaching for things. As Susan scrawled her name and room number on the ticket and handed it back to the waitress, Miguel arrived and took A. K.’s seat.

“Mr. Fleming said you’re not to be billed for any meals; just sign the tab so he’ll know it was you. I see that Deputy Lightfoot found you.”

“That’s awfully nice of Mr. Fleming. Yes, the deputy did pay me a visit. You know him?”

“Let’s just say I know of him. I avoid cops whenever possible. Mind if I ask what he was doing here? This isn’t his beat. He works in Gulfport.”

Susan saw this as a bargaining chip. Maybe she could use Deputy Lightfoot’s appearance to get Miguel to open up. “I’ll tell why he was here if you’ll answer a few questions for me.”

Miguel twisted his mouth from side to side. “On one condition—you didn’t hear anything from me.”

“Deal. Deputy Lightfoot used to be partners with Dylan Powell, who’s now my significant other’s partner. Dylan asked Lightfoot to see what he could find out about Lorraine, her friends, and why she left Biloxi.”

“Huh, if anyone knows anything, I doubt they’d tell him. Cops usually mean trouble.”

“You might be right. He said he was batting zero. Now it’s my turn. Why do you think Lorraine left Biloxi?”

Miguel looked around the room then scooted his chair closer to Susan. “Lorraine came across to everyone as the bubbly, carefree hostess, but she didn’t fool me. The woman was no bimbo. She was cunning and calculating, and I know she had something else going.”

“Like what?”

“The woman had expensive taste. Her salary couldn’t begin to cover what she spent at the tables or on jewelry, not to mention her car. Every year she turned in her Lexus for the latest model, always silver and always loaded. I wouldn’t mind having a set of wheels like that.”