The Corpse Wore Cashmere (24 page)

Susan forced a weak smile. “Maybe being home will lessen my visions.” She would like to think her work and life in the small community might help.

“Where’s the money box?” A. K. asked. “I know we made a ton at the festival.”

Susan handed her the cash box. While A. K. stacked the bills according to their denomination and separated the charge slips into another pile, she rattled on about the costumes, the band, and the ballroom. “I can’t wait for next year.”

“I can. In fact, I think I’m going to let some of the employees have a go at it. Considering everything, I don’t want to cross paths with Betty Sue or Kerry.”

“Well, it’s not the only festival in the world. Let me see what I can find. We need to offer a sale here, too. Got to keep the customers happy.” A. K. set her cup in the sink and waved her bejeweled fingers at Susan. “Later, friend.”

Susan worked the floor with her employees for the rest of the afternoon, and about five o’clock, called it a day. She wanted time to get a bath and relax before having dinner with Wesley.

At seven o’clock sharp, Wesley pulled up at the Pine Crest Apartments. He had scrubbed from head to toe and was pretty sure he had removed all traces of his trip into the woods. He even checked for ticks, nasty little buggers. He wore navy slacks, a pale blue dress shirt, and a camel blazer.

“Hello, handsome,” Susan said, opening the door.

He paused and looked at her. “If I hadn’t made reservations, I’d suggest we make it an evening at your place. I could sit and stare at you forever.”

“That wouldn’t be much fun,” Susan replied with a mischievous grin.

“Thing is, I had to pull strings to get us a table. They’re always crowded. I wouldn’t want to miss our time.”

Dino’s was a favorite dining spot a few miles east of Hammond, no more than a thirty-minute drive from Susan’s. They arrived in plenty of time, but the parking lot was already filled. Wesley finally found a parking space on a side street.

As soon as they entered, the maître de checked his list and escorted them to a table for two far from the kitchen. For that Wesley was grateful. Nothing like the constant to-and-fro of waiters to ruin the ambiance or disrupt a conversation.

They ordered drinks and studied the menu.

“So, what’s the good news you have?” Susan said.

The waiter returned with their drinks.

“First a toast to the prettiest girl here,” he said.

He could have sworn Susan appeared nervous. Was she afraid he was going to say something that she wasn’t ready to hear? Something like suggesting they cement their relationship? She should know him better than that. He’d never push her, even if he was ready to take the next step.

Susan licked a dab of salt from the rim of her margarita. “Have you heard from Dylan?”

“He called with the arrangements. The funeral’s set for Wednesday at eleven a.m. at the First Baptist Church in Gulfport, burial to follow in the church’s cemetery. The sheriff will be buried next to his wife. After that, there’ll be refreshments in the fellowship hall.”

“What do you think Dylan will do about his dad’s death?” she asked, buttering a cracker.

Wesley shrugged. “I know what I’d do. I’d have toxicology check for anything that might show his heart attack was induced.”

Susan placed her knife across her saucer. “I hate to think what happened in that room. I’m sure Chief Powell didn’t suspect anything. My guess is that Kerry probably had his back to the sheriff, maybe looking out the window when he introduced a lethal substance into the IV. At least, that’s how I hope it went down—that it was quick, and the sheriff didn’t suffer.”

“You could be right. Had Kerry suffocated him, there would have been evidence of petechial hemorrhaging in Chief Powell’s eyes. Kerry’s slick, all right. I’ll give him that.”

“Enough speculation. It’s too depressing. Tell me your good news.”

“I had reason to visit Edith Nelson’s case again today.”

“Don’t tell me you got a lead on the missing girl.”

“Looks that way.” He told her about the hunter finding the bracelet. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the initials; then I compared it with the description in the file. It matched. The lab has it now. Chances are slim the technician can turn up anything after all this time, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed. It was in an area that wasn’t considered in the initial search. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Like Gretel, maybe she dropped it to help searchers follow her trail.”

“My thoughts exactly. Gold doesn’t deteriorate, and she was wearing gold earrings and a chain with a cross when she was abducted. Maybe she managed to discard her earrings. The cover of darkness would have made it easier for her to drop things.”

The waiter interrupted their conversation to take their order and retrieve the menus.

Susan lifted her napkin from her lap and dabbed the sprinkling of salt from her mouth. “What about your workload? Do you have many new cases?”

“A couple and they take priority over my cold case.” He strummed his fingers on the tablecloth. “I’ll just have to put in more hours if I want to pursue the new lead.” He looked up and grinned. “Think you can get along without me for a while?”

“You know what they say about absence.”

“That’s bull, and you know it.”

That night, Wesley didn’t return to his apartment until almost dawn. He and Susan talked into the wee hours on one thing that mattered the most—each other. While they agreed they wanted a future together, neither mentioned the word engagement.

Wednesday morning broke clear and mild. Wesley picked up Susan at eight thirty, and they drove to Gulfport with Chief Smith and a deputy-driver following. The church was easy to find, but a parking place came at a premium. Motorcycles and patrol cars from both the state and city police lined the street leading to the church.

“Looks like they’ve marked off a few places for the general public in the parking lot,” Wesley said. “Let’s hope the church has seating available for everyone.”

The church was packed, mostly with men in uniform. Flowers covered the back wall and easels rambled halfway down the aisles on either side of the church. Dylan stood tall and erect beside his father’s open casket, greeting the mourners. While he gave the impression of strength, bloodshot eyes and deep shadows underneath them told another story, one of sleepless nights and a grieving son.

Kerry stood near the front of the main aisle, also greeting people and directing them to Dylan. The site of him turned Susan’s stomach. She wanted to scream, “Judas,” and bring all eyes to bear on him—a snake, a serpent of the devil. That was out of the question, at least for now. But his time was coming. Of that, she was certain. She was determined not to look at him again, and instead concentrated on Dylan.

Knowing how much he must be hurting, Susan wondered how she would cope when her parents were laid to rest. Probably not as well as Dylan, she thought. When she approached the casket, she wrapped her arms around Dylan and held him close as she whispered her condolence in his ear. His long, lean body quivered beneath her embrace, and it was all she could do to turn him loose. Without his mother or his father, Dylan was truly alone.

Wesley, the chief, and the deputy who drove the chief shook hands with Dylan.
How cold
, she thought. When, if ever, do men set aside their macho façade? Caring about someone and showing it doesn’t make one weak.

The service was touching, and the pastor, who knew the sheriff well, told what a wonder father he was to Dylan, about his many contributions to the community, and how he was loved by all. Susan and Wesley sat on either side of Dylan, and Susan held his hand. Dylan kept his head down during the service, his way of hiding his tears, but she was privy to his deep sighs and slight trembling.

As an ex-navy man, Chief Powell received a twenty-one gun salute at graveside, and the honor guard presented Dylan with the flag. Afterwards, state and nearby city policemen began to leave. Those more intimately involved with the sheriff stayed to spend time in fellowship. Wesley and Susan waited until most of those in attendance had visited with Dylan then motioned him over to them.

“You gonna be all right?” Wesley asked.

Dylan nodded.

Susan took his hand. “You need to be careful, Dylan. I realize what I saw doesn’t make it so, but most of the time my visions are spot on. It’s important you know that Kerry is not the friend you think he is.”

“I’m beginning to believe that. You’d be amazed how many times I’ve been approached in the last two days by deputies urging me to run for sheriff. They said Kerry was not to be trusted and accused him of going behind my dad’s back on crucial decisions. Some knew for a fact he had tampered with evidence in a couple of homicides and had also diverted funds for his personal use. One deputy suggested I check the conveyance records. He said I’d find where Lightfoot had accumulated a number of prime properties. No way Kerry could have purchased the properties on his salary.

“My only chance at getting to the bottom of everything is if I can replace Kerry as sheriff of Gulfport. Looks like I don’t have a choice but to resign my Louisiana commission and throw my hat in the ring. I’m friends with the mayor and most of the city council, and I’ve lots of friends who will speak for me. I stand a good chance of being appointed.” He put his other hand on top of Susan’s. “In the meantime, as the highest ranking deputy, Kerry will be the interim sheriff. I’m sure he’ll throw his weight around. I’ll just have to bide my time. Thanks to you, I won’t be going into this blind. You can bet I’ll keep watch on Kerry every step of the way.”

“I’ll hate to lose you, partner, but I totally understand,” Wesley said.

“We’ll all miss you,” Susan said.

Thursday morning at Palmetto’s headquarters, Chief Smith announced to everyone that Dylan had resigned. “He’s hoping he can win the favor of the mayor and city council, and that they will appoint him as the sheriff of Gulfport. I know Dylan will do a good job. At this time, I want to introduce you to a new employee, Charlie Morgan. Charlie is new to the Hammond area, having served with the Baton Rouge Police Department for the past three years. His parents are elderly and live in the Springfield area, and he made the move to be closer to them.”

Charlie gave a nod to those in attendance.

The chief shifted his gaze to Wesley. “Meet your new partner.”

Wesley sized up the man who came up to about his chin. However, he was built like a fullback and would probably be a good man to have in a fight. The two men shook hands.

“Well, that’s it,” the chief said. “You can get on with what you’re doing.”

“Welcome aboard.” Wesley pointed to an empty chair next to his desk. “Have a seat, and we’ll get this partnership underway. By the way, are you married?”

“So far, I’ve managed to avoid that.”

“I take it you’ve worked homicide.”

“That and narcotics.”

Wesley pushed the new files at Charlie. “These are the latest cases. You’ll want to go through them.” Then he pushed Edith Nelson’s file at him. “This one isn’t current, but it’s special to me.”

“Looks old.”

“It’s a cold case I intend to solve.”

After he briefed him on Edith’s disappearance, he told him about the bracelet a hunter had just discovered. “You up for a tromp through the woods?”

“Sure.”

“Got a change of clothes?”

“I’ve got a pair of warm-ups in my locker, and I was also given a jacket and a couple of hats.”

“That’ll do. You drive a truck?”

“Yes, a Chevy.”

“Good. We can go by Maintenance and pick up a couple of four-wheelers and some ramps.”

Wesley and Charlie parked at the Burger Shack, unloaded the ATVs, and Wesley led the way into the woods. Following his GPS, he maneuvered the same trail to where the hunter had found the bracelet. Once there, he pulled out a map. “The hunter gave me his original, and I had a copy made so I could draw a grid over it. We’re here,” he said, pointing to a specific spot. “The X’s represent camps the hunter has located. The tiny stars are the hunter’s favorite hunting sites. I’m sworn to secrecy on those. We need to do a methodical search. Let’s start with this area. I figure we can give two hours a day to search and still work our active cases.”

Together, they marked off the dimensions of the first grid and each searched half of the staked-off area. They found nothing they could tie to the case. Next, they covered the grid farther into the woods and in the direction Wesley assumed the girl had been traveling. That search proved to be fruitless, too. They then tackled the grid even farther into the woods.

To say that Wesley was disappointed was an understatement, but he was determined to keep looking. If the hunter had found something, there was a chance other evidence could be out there, too. If he didn’t find anything today, there was always tomorrow. One good thing was that the sun had dried up some of the mud, and no rain was forecast for the next several days.

Wesley was turning his bike with the intention of heading back when he caught a brief reflection of something metallic. It came from a large loblolly pine. He climbed off the ATV and inspected the tree but couldn’t find anything. He walked back to the spot where he had spotted the reflection, and once again, the sun illuminated the object. Whatever it was, it was tiny. He kept his eye on that particular area of the tree and found what he was looking for. The object was wedged between the bark. First, he took a picture of it with his cell phone then worked it free. Immediately, he recognized what he had.

“Hey,” he called to Charlie. “Got something.” He slipped the object into a small plastic slip.

Charlie came over to take a look.

“Know what this is?” Wesley asked, handing him the item.

“Looks like some of the jewelry the missing girl was wearing.”

Wesley grinned. “Give the man a cigar! You bet it is. It’s a tiny maple leaf—one of her earrings.” He tucked the plastic slip into his shirt pocket. Lowering his voice, he mumbled, “You’re right, sweetie, Gretel is leaving us crumbs.”

“What?”