Disrobed for Death (14 page)

Once she arrived at her apartment, she laid out what she planned to wear, then shed her clothes. After pulling on a couple of tee shirts, she slipped the sweat shirt over her head. Layering would keep her warm, and she wouldn’t have to deal with a bulky jacket. Jeans, dark tennis shoes, and gloves completed her outfit. She twisted her hair into a bun and tucked it under the knit cap. Around her waist, she fastened a fairly large fanny pack. It held a screw driver, a flashlight, and a rag. If she couldn’t jimmy a window, she’d have to break it with the hammer she wedged behind her belt.

Dressed for something she never thought she’d be doing, she took one last look in the mirror. By gosh, a Ninja warrior stared back. A nervous laugh erupted, and she couldn’t resist.

“Eeee-ya!” she cried, striking an attack pose. But the laughter was short lived. A man’s life hung in the balance, and she must never forget that. Her shoulders slumped, and her lip quivered.

“Am I really ready to do this?” she asked herself. Stuffing the cell phone in her pocket and grabbing her keys, she fired back at her image, “You bet I am.”

She left her apartment and drove to Gary’s. As she suspected, she didn’t pass him on the way. When she arrived, she turned into the driveway of the vacant lot, which, by its appearance, had sat abandoned for quite a while. This would work to her advantage. The tall weeds would provide cover for her car. Stepping from the Camaro, she glanced overhead. Even the night was going to cooperate—no moon and no rain. While streetlights lined the road, they did little to illuminate the houses. They were built on the back portion of the lots. A few houses had porch or patio lights, but Gary’s place had no lights on at all.

Stepping from the car, she made sure she had everything she would need. Then with stealth, she made her way up Gary’s driveway. Even with all her clothing, she could feel the hairs on her arms bristling. Every nerve in her body was on high alert from her gut to her fingertips. Each shadowy shrub loomed as a threat. She approached each with trepidation, afraid he might jump out and catch her. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she discovered his navy Nissan missing. The only vehicle parked out front was the Dodge truck with the big bug crouched on top. Had this been a horror movie, the metal sculpture might have come alive and sealed her fate. But this wasn’t a movie, and the piece of tin was doomed to ride out its life bolted to its chariot.

Like his unkempt yard, ornamental shrubs crowded around Gary’s house. Susan had to push her way behind the bushes to check for any unlocked windows. Sharp branches jabbed her sweatshirt, but she remained unharmed. One-by-one, she lifted the screens with the screwdriver and checked the windows. They were all locked. At the back of the house, three possible windows remained, along with the patio door. One overlooked the kitchen window. The other was a small, frosted window located too high to reach. She struck out on gaining entry from the first two. That left what was probably a bathroom window. If locked, she’d have no choice but to break it. While small, she knew she could wiggle her way through, but first she’d have to find something to give her a leg-up. She spied just the thing.

Dragging a wrought-iron patio chair beneath the window, she popped the screen. To her surprise and delight, it was unlocked. She pushed up the window and dropped her hammer on the ground. Bracing her hands on the window sill, she pulled her body half through the opening. Then she slid her fanny pack to her side to get out the flashlight. Now was not the time to fall head first into a toilet.

As fate would have it, the porcelain throne was below the window, and thankfully, the lid was down. She put the flashlight back into the fanny pack, reached down, and put her hands on the back of the tank. Now she’d have leverage to lift the rest of her body and shimmy her way down to the lid. Seemed like a great plan, and it might have worked, but someone grabbed her legs.

“Going somewhere?” a deep voice said.

A million thoughts raced through her mind, none of them good. She tried to look and see who had hold of her, but her assailant blinded her with his flashlight.

“I know you,” he said. “You run the Bawdy Boutique. What do you think you’re doing?”

The man lifted her out of the window and stood her on the ground. “Recognize me?” he said, turning the light toward his face.

“You’re Herman! I saw you on your bike with Vera—”

“That’s neither here nor there. You still have haven’t answered me. I’ve learned to keep a lookout for trouble, especially since Vera’s all alone. I don’t want any harm coming to her. Do you realize you could have gotten yourself shot?”

“It’s not what you think. Please, let me go. I have to get inside.”

“Not while I’m here. You’re coming with me to Vera’s. How’d you get here, anyway?”

“I parked a few doors down at the vacant lot.”

“Well, we’d better move your vehicle to Vera’s. Someone might see it parked there and call the cops. I have a feeling you wouldn’t want that, would you?

“No.”

Herman closed the window and replaced the screen. “Is this yours?” He picked up the hammer and handed to Susan. “You didn’t leave anything else around the house, did you?”

Susan shook her head.

After returning the chair to the patio, Herman’s big hand closed around her bicep. “Okay, let’s go get your car.”

When she and Herman got out of the Camaro, Vera was waiting for them at the front door. Susan discarded the fanny-pack and dropped the hammer on the back floorboard. Giving Vera a sheepish grin, she pulled the knit cap from her head and tucked it into her waist and beneath the sweatshirt.

“Look who I found,” Herman said.

Vera had the same look of surprise as when she spotted Susan wearing the wig. “You’re carrying this disguise thing to the extremes. Aren’t you? What in the world were you doing over at Gary’s house?”

“She probably didn’t want anyone to recognize her,” Herman said. “I sure didn’t when I caught her climbing through Gary’s back window. Of course, I wasn’t looking at her face, either. Young lady, before I call the cops, maybe we should hear what you have to say.”

“Please, don’t call them. I can explain.”

Vera led the way to the kitchen, and Herman followed with Susan in tow. In most Southern homes, it’s tradition to discuss important matters around the kitchen table. Tonight was no exception. Herman sat next to Susan, and no one said a word until Vera finished pouring them a cup of coffee.

Sitting in a straight-back maple chair, Susan looked up into the overhead light hanging from a brass chain. Interrogation scenes from old black and white movies popped into her mind. She so wanted to cry out, “I’m innocent, I tell you. I’m innocent.”

Only she wasn’t.

With tears streaming down her face, she pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’ve got to get back in there. Time’s running out. If I don’t find the money, someone’s going to die.”

“Sit down,” Herman said. “What money? Who’s going to die? If there’s something to what you say, I might be willing to help you.”

Susan plopped down in the chair, and Herman took her hands in his.

“It must be something really serious for you to go to this extreme. And I always have an open mind.”

Susan, talking as fast as she could, told them everything, from her vision to seeing Clarissa pass the envelope to Gary. “Now you see why I have to hurry? A. K. is supposed to call me when they leave the restaurant. I don’t imagine that’s going to be much longer. This might be my only chance to find the money and stop him.”

“Call me crazy,” Herman said, “but I believe you. There are some things we can’t explain. And I sure don’t want any harm coming to Doctor Jack. He seems like such a good man. Excuse me, ladies. I’ll just be a moment.” Herman left the kitchen.

“Where’s he going?” Susan asked.

“He probably needs time to think…to absorb it all.”

“We don’t have time.”

Herman returned, but instead of taking a seat at the table, he paced the room and kept looking out the window. “What are you going to do if you can’t find the money?”

“I have a detective friend who has agreed to stake out Jack’s apartment the night before Valentine’s Day.”

Herman wheeled around, a frown on his face. “Does he know you were going to break into Gary house tonight?”

“No. He would have stopped me for sure. All he knows about is my premonition and what I saw in New Orleans. He was mad enough at me for following Clarissa. I think he really believes I dreamed it all. Regardless, he agreed to help me.”

“You know you’re going to have to tell him about tonight.”

A knock at the door startled Susan. Had he called the cops anyway?

“I’ll get it,” Herman said.

From where Susan sat, all she could make out was the figure of a man. He wore dark clothing and a ski mask. He handed Herman something, turned, and disappeared into the night.

“Who was that?” Susan asked when Herman returned to the kitchen.

“Who was who? I thought I heard a knock, so I looked out front. All I saw was a man running across the yard.” He placed the package on the table. “Is this what you were looking for?”

Susan gasped in surprise at the bulging manila envelope. “How did you…did he…?”

“Well, are you going to open it?”

It was money all right. When they finished counting, twenty-five thousand dollars sat on the kitchen table. Susan tried again to question Herman. “Who—?”

“Don’t ask,” Vera said. “Herman knows many people, some with special talents.”

“Gary’s going to go ballistic when he finds the money missing,” Herman said. “It’s only logical that he’ll suspect you and your friend, since it turned up missing right after he ran into you two. Maybe I should hold on to the money for now, make sure he doesn’t get his hands on it.”

Vera slapped the table. “You sure fixed Clarissa’s wagon. Wouldn’t you like to be a fly on the wall when Gary tells her he’s been robbed, and he’s not killing anyone for free?”

“You…you don’t think she’d shoot Jack. Do you?” Susan asked.

“No way, she might break a nail.” Vera guffawed.

Herman looked at Vera and shook his head. “This is no laughing matter, honey. Susan, I’ll do what I can to keep an eye on Gary and Clarissa till this is over. You be extra careful. No telling what Gary might do.”

Susan’s cell rang. She jumped up and pulled the phone from her pocket. “Okay. I’ll call you on the way home.” She looked from Vera to Herman. “That was A. K. They’re leaving the restaurant. I have to go. I don’t want him to see me on the road.”

After giving Herman and Vera a hug, she hurried to the car. She should have plenty of time to get to her place before A. K. or Gary approached Palmetto. On the way, she called A. K. and told her about getting caught.

“Did you have to change your drawers when Herman grabbed your leg? I know I would have.”

“Thank goodness that wasn’t the case. Herman thinks Gary will suspect us, since we just happened on the scene and managed to occupy his time. I want you to be very careful. Lock your doors and don’t open them for anyone. Herman’s going to try and keep an eye on him and Clarissa, but he can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Oh, my, gosh, he’s going to explode. He told me he was planning a trip to Cancun. Would you believe on Valentine’s Day? Ha! He even asked if I wanted to go with him.”

“That’s one vacation he won’t be taking. At least, not on Clarissa’s dime.”

“I still can’t believe it—twenty-five thousand dollars. What are you going to do with it?”

“I haven’t given that a thought. I’ll decide that the day after Valentine’s Day, when I’m sure we’ve stopped a tragedy.” Susan pulled her car to the curb. “I’m home. Meet me at the shop a little before opening. We’ll talk more then.

“It’s hard to keep my mind on the business with all this going on, but if I don’t, I’m going to find myself out on the street. I have some things I want to mark down, and we should try the grease board easel again. That really helped to bump up the sales."

Susan gathered up the fanny pack and hammer. Gary was scheduled to treat the shop tomorrow, and he might just snoop around her car. She didn’t want him to spot anything that might suggest she broke into his house. She was glad the manager had replaced the bulb at her entrance, but even so, she looked around to make sure no one was lurking in the shadows.

Once inside, she locked the deadbolt. Then she put the hammer, screwdriver and flashlight in the drawer in the kitchen where she kept such things. The fanny pack and the knit cap, she folded and placed in a drawer with her warm ups. There was no way he could tie them to the break-in. All the pent-up emotions that had been building inside her seemed to drain from every pore, and a feeling of euphoria washed over her. She might have just prevented Jack’s murder and stopped Wesley from having to confront a murderer.

She wanted more than anything to tell Wesley, but she couldn’t. As an officer of the law, he would have to arrest her, and probably Herman and Vera, too, for aiding and abetting. Oh, and A. K. would be included, too. She couldn’t imagine being hauled to jail and all of them booked. Right then and there, Susan decided not to say anything. She had to see this through, and then she’d level with Wesley. After that, she’d take whatever was coming to her.

Wesley lingered in her thoughts. If she couldn’t feel his arms around her now, she’d settle for the sound of his voice. She lay back on the couch and punched in his name on the cellphone. To her surprise, it went to voice mail.

“It’s eleven o’clock. I thought you’d be in bed by now. If you’re working, stay safe. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

Susan sauntered to the bathroom, shed her clothes, and took a good, long soak. But even the warm bath didn’t help relax her. She tossed and turned most of the night, aware of every passing hour. Her mind churned with thoughts of Wesley. One minute they engaged in wild, passionate love and the next, a bitter fight because she refused to stop playing detective and let him do his job. At six o’clock, she staggered—bleary eyed and tired—from the bed.

Sitting at the kitchen table, she savored her first cup of coffee. The caffeine transfusion provided a jolt to her neurological system, but her muscles still ached from trying to shimmy through Gary’s window. She had a feeling it was going to be a long day. Crossing from the kitchen to the bedroom, she picked up the remote and turned on the television. The Hammond station was covering the morning news.