The Corpse Wore Cashmere (23 page)

“Here’s fine,” Wesley said.

Kevin scratched his head. “Don’t know what I can tell you that I didn’t tell the other deputy.”

“I’m interested in where you found the bracelet. Any chance you could take me to the location?”

“Now? You want that nice suit of yours to look like me?”

“It’s nothing the cleaners can’t fix.”

“Okay, give me a minute to pull around the side, and I’ll unload the four-wheeler. Actually, it’s not too far from here. I know a shortcut through the woods.”

Wesley sat behind Kevin and used his GPS to track their route. Twenty minutes later, after a splattering of mud and a beating by some thorny bushes, they arrived at the location.

“Where exactly did you find the bracelet?” Wesley asked.

Kevin pointed to a patch of briars. “Hanging right there, four or five inches from the ground.”

Wesley figured the bracelet had lain undetected, covered by leaves and decaying matter at the base of the briars. Then, as the briars grew, they lifted the bracelet from the ground. He made a note that the bracelet hung from thorns on the side of the briar that faced him. That would suggest the girl and her abductor had probably been heading in the direction away from him. He took a picture of the briars then made a cursory search of the immediate area, not finding anything of significance. He looked around at the dense undergrowth and knew a difficult job was in his future.

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and followed Wesley’s gaze around the woods. “I remember hearing about that girl. Not much chance of finding her alive now, is there?”

Wesley took a deep breath. “You never know, Kevin. You just never know. I can’t thank you enough for doing the right thing and turning in the bracelet. Some people might have been tempted to keep it.”

“No, sir, I wasn’t raised that way.”

“One more thing—I’m going to need you to keep this to yourself. If the girl is still alive, and her abductor thinks we’ve picked up his trail, well…”

“I understand. You can count on me.”

Wesley tagged the bush with a piece of yellow tape. “Thanks. I guess we’d better head back.”

By the time they arrived back at the Burger Shack, the lunch crowd had thinned, and the parking lot was fairly empty. Wesley waited while Kevin loaded his four-wheeler.

“You don’t look too bad,” Kevin said, climbing down from the bed of the truck. “Not like me.” He brushed his pants, which did absolutely no good. It would take washing in hot water with lots of detergent to get his clothes anywhere close to clean.

“Say, Kevin, you don’t happen to have a map of these woods, do you?”

“Yeah, but it’s real special to me, got my best hunting areas marked. I wouldn’t want anyone else to see it.”

“What else does your map show?”

“I’ve marked all the camps I’ve come across and the boggy areas I need to avoid.”

“It sure would be a big help to my investigation if I could make a copy. I promise not to show it to anyone, except maybe my partner.” Wesley thought about Dylan and wished he were still here. They were a good fit.

“Give me a minute.” Kevin moved a few things around on the backseat and pulled out a rolled map. “You can get a good copy at a blueprint shop. Don’t forget. This is between you and me.”

Walking up to Myrtle’s front door, all the events in Lorraine’s case flashed through Wesley’s mind. He hoped his news about Randy would help bring closure for Myrtle. When she greeted him, he saw the same empty look in her eyes that he’d seen in the Nelsons’. It was as though all the warmth had been sucked from her body.

“Come in, Wesley. I’ve been expecting to hear from you.”

“How are you, Myrtle?”

“Better each day. Let’s sit in the parlor, and you can tell me what you’ve found.”

Myrtle’s living room, which she always referred to as her parlor, was a step back in time to the turn of the century—lots of mahogany furniture, what-not shelves, a tapestry fire screen, and marble-top end tables. A large breakfront gleamed with china, crystal, and silver.

“Well, Lorraine’s case is finally closed. We’re just waiting for DNA to confirm the murderer.”

“Who is he? Where is he?”

“His name was Randy Harper.”

“Was?”

“Mr. Harper’s dead of an apparent suicide.” Wesley went on to explain the circumstances.

“I’m glad the man is dead. It doesn’t bring back Lorraine, but at least he can’t hurt anyone else.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. My advice is not to dwell on what could have been; just be grateful for the time you had with her. Remembering the good times will make it easier. You have lots of friends in this community—reach out to them.”

“I will in time.”

“I also want to thank you again for giving me the photos. I know that caused you more heartache, but it was the right thing to do.”

“I suppose, but I can’t help but feel sorry for Zelda.”

Wesley nodded. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

“You’ve done everything you promised. Now it’s up to me to get on with my life.”

When he stood to leave, the normally standoffish woman gave him a big hug.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Wesley said. “You know I’m here for you.”

Wesley walked to his car. He wasn’t looking forward to his next stop—the Bawdy Boutique.

Monday morning started early for Susan. She was eager to get back into the routine of things—do a quick inventory and see what the sales were like while she was gone. The feel and look of her outfit pleased her. She had chosen one of the newest spring styles from the boutique, nowhere close to the skimpy pirate costume she had worn the past few days. This morning, she wore a magenta shift made from a blend of rayon and cotton and three-inch heels in the same color. A long black onyx necklace and matching earrings topped off her ensemble.

As she unlocked the front door to the boutique, several cars pulled into the parking lot. Melanie, Debbie and Sheila all hurried out of their cars and rushed toward her.

Debbie was first to greet her. “I missed you,” she said, giving Susan a bone-crushing hug. “We want to hear all about the weekend.”

The other employees joined in welcoming her back, but thankfully they refrained from mauling her.

“I missed y’all, too. Next year I might turn the festival over to some of you. I’m sure you could handle it.”

“Me,” Debbie shouted. “Please!”

When the others began clamoring for a spot, Susan held up her hands. “Hold on there. Looks like we’re going to have to draw lots.”

“What was it like?” Melanie asked.

“I’ll tell you all about it over coffee.”

“I’ll make it,” Sheila said when they gathered in the office. Soon, the rich aroma of Community Coffee filled the room. Everyone grabbed a cup and gathered round Susan’s desk. Susan’s newest employees, Nadine and Isabel, arrived.

“Welcome back, boss,” Nadine said. “Are we too late for coffee?”

“You’re just in time,” Sheila said. “Susan is about to tell us all about the festival.”

Susan described the hotel, the decorations, and the free rooms. “Working the kiosk was a snap. It was more like play than work. And every night they put on a major production involving ships battling one another. They had a terrific band that played till the wee hours to a packed ballroom.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Debbie said.

“That was the good part of the festival. Now for the not-so-good.” Susan told them about her near abduction, Randy’s death, and finding the van covered in graffiti. She also told them about Dylan’s dad having a heart attack.

“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.”