Corpse Suzette (14 page)

“I thought it was supposed
to be warm all year here in Southern California,” Abigail said as she wrapped
her sweater more tightly around her and covered her bare feet with the edge of
the beach towel.

On a larger blanket next to
her, Savannah and Tammy were busy setting out a picnic that Savannah had thrown
together at the last moment. She and Tammy had a frequent ritual of packing a
dinner and bringing it down to the beach to watch the sunset. Thinking Abigail
would enjoy this west coast experience, they had suggested it when she had
given a thumbs down on fajitas at Casa Madre.

But at the moment, the
beach picnic wasn’t going over all that well either.

“What is that stuff you’ve
got there?” Abby wanted to know as she peered into the crock pot that Savannah
had pulled from a box.

“It’s southern style pulled
pork,” she told her. “And, girl, you haven’t lived ’til you’ve sunk your
chompers into some of this.”

Abby looked doubtfully into
the pot. “Looks like somebody already ate it.”

Tammy cringed and Savannah
counted to ten before saying, “That’s because the pork was cooked for hours in
a sweet and spicy barbecue sauce until the meat fell all apart. It’s very
tender and tasty.”

Abby wrinkled her nose. “I
don’t think I’m going to eat any of it. What else do you have?”

“Onion buns to put the meat
on, coleslaw and corn on the cob. So if you don’t eat the pork, it’s gonna be
slim pickins for you, kiddo.”

When Abby grunted in reply,
Tammy said, “Let me make you a sandwich of this and if you don’t like it, I’ll
eat it.”

Abby looked surprised.
“You? I thought Miss Vegetarian never ate anything like that. Where’s your tofu
burger?”

Tammy laughed. “When it
comes to Savannah’s pulled pork sandwiches, even I fall off the wagon.”

Abby seemed satisfied with
that and settled back on her towel to take in the scenery while Tammy and
Savannah assembled their sandwiches.

“I guess it’s pretty nice
here,” Abby said, as she studied the horizon. The sky, deep turquoise blue, was
tinged with gold and a delicate shade of peach around the sun, which had dipped
halfway into the water.

Far in the distance off to
their right a long, dark irregular shape stretched between the water and the
sky. “What’s that?” Abby asked. “Some sort of island?”

“That’s Santa Tesla
Island,” Savannah told her. “It’s quite a ways out there. You can’t usually see
it unless it’s a clear day, like today.”

“Do people live out there?”

“Sure they do,” Tammy said.
“There are some beautiful homes there, a couple of luxury hotels, a nice little
town with shops and—”

“A lighthouse!” Suddenly
Abigail shot up off her towel, pointing toward the end of the island. “I saw a
flash of light! I’m pretty sure it was a lighthouse beam!”

Savannah chuckled, pleased
to see Abigail animated over something. Anything at all. “It
is
a
lighthouse,” she told her. “It’s been there forever, even before people settled
the island. There are some treacherous rocks out there, and the light’s there
to warn ships away.”

“I
love
lighthouses,” Abigail said dreamily. “I mean I really, really love them. In
fact, I was talking about lighthouses today with Jeremy.”

“You and Jeremy were
discussing lighthouses?” Tammy asked. “How did that come up in casual
conversation?”

“He was asking me what I
like. What really inspires me on a deep level.”

“And you told him
lighthouses?” Savannah said, marveling at this new insight into what made
Abigail tick.

“Yes, I do love them. The
whole idea of them. There’s a purity about them. They were built strictly to
help people, to save human life. And throughout the ages, lighthouse keepers
lived solitary, lonely lives in those barren, inhospitable places, just waiting
for the chance to go down and rescue people who had run into trouble on the
rocks. And no matter what, the lighthouse keepers and their families kept those
lights lit, even when they were sick or dying themselves, they wouldn’t let the
lights go out, because they considered it their solemn, sacred duty. It’s a
beautiful thing, really, when you think about it.”

Savannah looked across the
water and saw the tiny white blink of light, then a pause and two more. “I
guess I never thought about it that way,” she said. “But I can see why it’s one
of your passions. Why did Jeremy ask about things like that?”

“Because he’s helping me
get in touch with who I really am. It’s the first step in creating a style
that’s uniquely mine alone. How can I express myself if I don’t know who I am?”

“What other sorts of things
do you like?” Tammy asked. Abigail gave her a quick, guarded look and crossed
her arms over her chest. “Just... stuff.”

Tammy handed her a glass of
iced tea. “What kind of stuff?”

“Private stuff. I’m not
going to tell you.”

“Ah, come on. It’s just me
and Savannah, and we won’t tell anybody.”

Abigail thought for a
moment, then said, “Belly dancing. I like belly dancing, okay? Happy now? The
fat chick likes belly dancing. And you might as well go ahead and say it, ‘I’ve
certainly got enough of it... belly, that is.’”

“I wasn’t going to say
anything like that,” Tammy objected. “I would never—”

“No, but you thought it.
What’s somebody who looks like me doing even thinking about something like
that? Nobody would want to see
my
body doing any kind of dance, let
alone something sexy and graceful like that.”

“Here, Abby,” Savannah said
softly. “Here’s your sandwich. Take a bite and tell me what you think.”

As she handed the plate to
her, Savannah thought of the beautiful, sensual woman swaying in her living
room the other night. But the anger in Abigail’s eyes warned her not to say
anything. Abigail had been dancing for herself alone, not for anyone else to
see. And Savannah suspected it was one of the woman’s sacred secrets.

Abigail bit into the
sandwich. Her face lit up. “Not bad,” she said.

“You think that’s good...
slap a little of this coleslaw on there and you’ll be in pure tastebud heaven.”

The threesome sat down on
the blanket and began their meal. For awhile, no one spoke as they took the
edge off their hunger.

Finally, Tammy broke the
companionable silence. “So, you like that Jeremy guy, huh? He
is
really
cute and seemed nice.”

“He’s more than cute or
nice,” Abigail replied. “He’s a genius. Those places of theirs, the Mystic
Twilight Spa and Emerge... those were his ideas. He thought up the whole
concept, designed the facilities. He even decorated Suzette’s house and
Sergio’s condo. He’s brilliant, the brains behind the whole operation. And they
never gave him credit for it, not at all. And they ripped him off in the money
department, too. He’s probably going to start his own place, as soon as he
finds the backers and another surgeon, of course.”

Savannah tried not to sound
too interested when she said, “Oh? Did he tell you all that himself?”

“Most of it, and the rest I
read between the lines. He’s gotten a bum deal from those people. But with Suzette
missing and Sergio dead, maybe it’ll work out to his advantage in the end.”

As Savannah continued her
dinner, she thought about the beautiful, brilliant young man who had gotten the
short end of a stick, or at least, thought he had. Just how bitter was he?

She thought of Devon
Wright, who, for all her salesman-style cunning, didn’t seem to be all that
sharp. And the person who had made Suzette Du Bois disappear and had killed
Sergio D’Alessandro with nothing more than a tiny pin-prick of a mark on his
body... it wasn’t likely to be a dimwit.

It had to be someone who
was relatively bright, not to mention resourceful.

And when it came to
murder... “bitter” could be a potent ingredient, too.

Maybe it was time to look
elsewhere.

And even though Savannah had
instantly taken a liking to Jeremy Lawrence and had heard only good things
about the talented young man, perhaps it was time to look in his direction.

Chapter

L
ater that evening, Dirk
dropped by Savannah’s house with a small satchel under his arm. Savannah
ushered him inside and offered him a seat and a cold beer.

“Nope, I’m sorta still
working,” he said as he collapsed wearily onto the sofa. He glanced into the kitchen
where Tammy and Abigail were sitting at the table, playing a game of cards.

“Yeah, me, too.” Savannah
nodded toward a piece of foam core board she had propped next to her easy
chair. On the board was stuck a series of sticky post-it notes, some with names
written on them, some with dates.

“Messing with that board of
yours, huh?” he said. “Got anything?”

Savannah sat in her chair,
picked up the board and looked at it. “No. I’ve been shuffling these people,
places, and things all around, trying to make sense of this case. And so far,
I’ve got a whole lot of nothing.”

“I hear you.” He leaned
closer, peering at the board. “I see you’ve got that ditzo Devon gal at the top
of your suspect list.”

“At the moment, but I think
she’s about to get demoted.”

“I never did take her that
seriously as a suspect. Too much of a fluff-head,” he said. “The only reason
you really considered her was because you didn’t like her personally.”

“What gave you the idea I
didn’t like her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.
She’s just the sort of gal that women don’t like, so I figured you didn’t.”

“And guys? Do they like a
woman like Devon Wright?”

A lecherous little grin
appeared on his face. “Only for about ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Ten or fifteen, huh?
Mmmm... a real Casanova.”

“Hey, there’s something to
be said for efficiency.” He glanced back down at the board. “So, who takes her
place when she gets demoted?”

Savannah looked into the
kitchen, but Tammy and Abby were deep in conversation over their cards. “I’m
thinking Jeremy, the stylist,” she whispered.

“Oh really? Any special
reason?”

“Just that Abby said he
sort of made Du Bois and D’Alessandro what they were and didn’t get enough
credit—or money— along the way. Apparently, he’s looking for investors and a
surgeon right now to open his own place.”

“Okay, that’s good. I’ll
run a check on him and—”

“Tammy already did.
Online.”

He gave a little sniff.
“Boy, she’s quite the whiz kid these days. You don’t even need cops around
anymore, as long as you’ve got a computer and know how to use it. Which reminds
me...”

He reached down and picked
up the black satchel, which he had placed on the floor. “I have a favor to
ask.” As he unzipped the case and reached inside, he nodded toward the kitchen
and whispered, “Doesn’t the kid there have her own apartment anymore? Seems
like ever since that grumpy cousin of hers came to town, she’s been practically
living here with you.”

“I think she’s afraid to be
alone with her,” Savannah replied softly. “Strength in numbers and all that.
What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Sergio D’Alessandro’s
computer. They say that a personal computer is a treasure trove of forensic
goodies, but... well... I couldn’t even find the on/off button on this thing,
so...”

“And you brought it to me?”
Savannah shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding. You could write what I know
about computers on a peach pit.”

“Well, actually, I wasn’t
going to ask you. I was gonna ask the kid if she’d do it for me.”

“And considering all the
sweet, uplifting, soul-affirming compliments you’ve given her lately, I’m just
sure she’d be thrilled to do you a favor... to spend hours of tedious labor,
pouring through the maze of a dead man’s computer... all for the love of you.”

“She’ll do it,” Dirk said
as he hauled the thin, lightweight notebook computer out of the case and laid
it gently on her coffee table. And she’ll do it, not because I asked her to or
because she loves me so much.” He smiled confidently. “She’ll do it because
she’s just like you.”

“Meaning?”

“She’s nosy.”

“Sure. I’d be happy to,”
Tammy said as Dirk handed her the computer. “Especially for real money. But if
it’s full of porn, which most guys’ computers are, I’m charging you extra. And
the grosser the pictures, the more it’s going to cost you. I’m not looking at
close up pictures of body parts that I’m not aroused by for minimum wage, you
know.”

“Hey, I’m not responsible
for what some other guy looks at. The captain said I could pay you a hundred
bucks. That’s it; that’s all. Take it or leave it.”

Tammy hugged the computer
to her chest. “Heck,” she said, “I would have done it for free, but since
you’ve got an expense account, fork over the cash up front, big boy. I’ve got
clothes to buy, shoes to purchase.”

He stuck two twenties and a
ten into her outstretched hand. “Make me proud,” he said. “And I’ll give you
the rest the next time I see you. The captain’s a tightwad, and he’s gonna want
to know what he got for his money.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said.
“And we know how much he loves
you,
Dirko. Wouldn’t want to sully that
sparkling reputation of yours.” Savannah snickered. While she adored Dirk and
considered him easily the best detective she’d ever known, the rest of the San
Carmelita Police Department didn’t hold him quite so dear. Good detective or
not, most of them—including his superiors— considered him little more than a
major bum pain.

“That’s right,” he said.
“My reputation is riding on this, so do a good job and find something.”

“I’ll do my best,” Tammy
said as she sat on the end of the sofa, opened the computer, and clicked it on.

“And one more thing,” Dirk
added.

“What’s that?”

“If you could get it done
right away, that would be great.” Tammy sighed. “I see you and Savannah are
working on the same timetable. Yesterday is good, last week even better.”

“You got it. And thanks,
kiddo.”

“No sweat, Dirko.”

He turned to Savannah.
“What are you doing with the rest of the evening?”

She shrugged. “Looking at
my board here. Going to bed a little early. Getting some sleep for a change.”

“Boring,” he said.

“You got a better idea?”

“I’m just full of ideas.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

He patted his jacket
pocket. “Guess what I’ve got here.”

“Hm-m-m-m... let me guess.
Tickets to the opera? An invitation to a black tie ball?”

“Search warrant for Sergio
D’Alessandro’s condo on the water.” She grinned. “Who needs to sleep? I can
snooze any time. Let’s go snoop.”

“Yuck.”

“Wow!”

Savannah turned to Dirk, a
horrified look on her face. “You actually
like
this?”

“Like it? I
love
it.
I’d move in here tomorrow if I could!”

She shook her head. “I
never thought I’d hear the word ‘love’ in a sentence coming out of you in
connection with home décor.”

“But this place is great!
Just look around you.”

Savannah was looking
around, and what she was seeing left her cold. Colder than cold.

Sergio D’Alessandro’s
waterfront condo was ultramodern and white. Glossy white walls, white-washed
wooden floors, white leather furniture.

Except for the bright red
leather sofa and one oversized black lacquered vase filled with some sort of
tree branches... sprayed white. Even the baby grand piano in the corner of the
living room was white.

Savannah felt like
Thanksgiving leftovers, hanging out in a giant refrigerator.

“How could anybody possibly
like this?” she said. “It’s stark, sterile, soulless—”

“Clean,” he said. “It’s
clean. Sophisticated, clean lines.”

She sniffed. “Oh, give me a
break. Clean, my butt. There’s just less to dust here. No knick-knacks. That’s
why
you
like it.”

“Hey, it’s a bummer having
to dust all that house decorating crap. This is way better. One swipe with a
dirty tee-shirt, you’re done.”

“Oh, yeah, you just about
kill yourself dusting all those Clint Eastwood video tapes, empty beer bottles,
and piles of laundry. You slave over that trailer of yours, boy...
sla-a-ave
!”

“Shut up. I can like this
if I want to.”

She softened and gave him a
smile. “Yes, of course you can. Bloomers, boxers, briefs... different britches
for different hineys, right?”

“Something like that.”

Savannah walked into the
kitchen and found the same lack of ornamentation there. The marble-topped
counters had absolutely nothing on them: not a toaster, blender, not even a
coffeepot.

“Hey, check it out in
here,” Dirk called to her from another room.

She found him in the
bedroom, which was similar to the living room in color scheme, although she had
to admit, the one red wall and the other black one was interesting. So was the
bed, which was spread with a coverlet—red, white, and black-checked.

Interesting. But she still
wouldn’t have wanted to sleep on it.

She could, however, see
right away what had Dirk so excited.

Boxes. Cardboard boxes,
sealed with packing tape and labeled with a black marker: bedroom, bath, living
room, or kitchen.

Dirk had an excited grin on
his face. “The guy was moving! He was packing up and moving! That tells us a
lot!”

Savannah thought, fast and
furiously. She didn’t want to be outdone here. The truth had to be obvious.
But...

“What?” she finally asked.
“What does it tell us?”

His smile faded. “Hell, I
don’t know. But it’s gotta tell us
something.

“Yeah, well... when you
figure out what, you let me know.”

“Me? Why do you think I
brought you along, woman?”

“To do your thinking for
you?”

“Exactly.”

It wasn’t until four-thirty
in the morning that it came to her. And Savannah figured that if she had been
lying there awake for hours, Dirk probably had been, too. And if he wasn’t
awake, he should be. After all, he was the one who’d started the whole thing.

She sat up in bed, moved
Cleopatra off her right arm, and reached for the phone.

He was number one on her
speed dial.

“What?” he answered, far
grumpier than usual.

Oops.
“You asleep?”

“Are you kidding me? Of
course I was.” Then he uttered a couple of expletives that definitely would
have gotten him a hide tanning from Granny Reid.

“Now, now,” she said. “Is
that any way to talk to a lady?”

“One who wakes me up in the
middle of the first night’s sleep I’ve had in a week? Yes.”

She felt a stab of guilt.
Actually, it was more like a prick. A very small prick.

“I know why he was packed.
At least, I think I do.”

“Oh yeah?” He perked up
considerably. “Why?”

“I think he was going to
join Suzette. I think she’s somewhere waiting for him.”

He was silent for a long time,
mulling it over. Then he said, “Even if she was ready to kill him and his
squeeze doll at Rosarita’s the other day?”

It was her time to mull.

“I hadn’t thought of that,”
she replied.

“And if he was getting
ready to go join her, why did he hire you to find her?”

“Um... maybe not then.”

“Van,” he said with a tired
sigh. “Do me a favor, babe.”

“What?”

“Promise me something. The
next time you get one of these bright ideas in the middle of the night and
think I want to hear about it, remember: it’s probably a stupid idea and I
don’t give a rat’s ass. Don’t call me. Just roll over and go back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

He hung up. Dirk had always
been a man of few words... and most of them curt.

She replaced the phone on
its base, turned out the light, and reached for the recently displaced
Cleopatra. Diamante moved up from her feet and nuzzled under her other hand,
demanding her half of the petting.

“What do you girls think?
Was Sergio getting ready to fly the coop and go join Suzette?”

Cleo purred.

“Yeah, I think so, too. But
why would he hire me to find her, if he’d already made plans to skip town with
her?”

Diamante had nothing to add
to the conversation.

“Maybe Dirk’s right. Maybe
these middle-of-the-night revelations aren’t all that reliable. But Granny Reid
says we’re more intuitive in the moonlight than when the sun’s shining.”