The Corpse Wore Cashmere (14 page)

“Is that the best you can do? What a lame excuse. I know you’d have your nose right in the mix of things.”

“Look, Chief, we’re not rookies,” Wesley said. “We know what’s at stake. We don’t plan to interfere, but hopefully, Chief Powell will let us observe in an unofficial capacity.”

Chief Smith chewed on his lower lip, mulling over the situation. “Okay, just the weekend and Monday, but I want you back here first thing Tuesday morning…arrest or no arrest. You screw this up, and you’ll be riding a motorcycle for the next year.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Dylan said.

Wesley and Dylan walked out of headquarters and toward their respective vehicles.

“So what time do you want to leave?” Dylan asked.

“How about five thirty? That’ll give us time to pack and maybe catch a couple hours of sleep. Come by my place, and we’ll go in my truck.”

Susan made an effort to raise her head from the pillow but couldn’t muster the strength. A restless night had drained her energy. All night, she had tossed and turned, reliving her abduction, dreaming her shop had gone up in flames, and struggling with that infernal blinding light that kept assaulting her eyes. She sat up in the bed and forced her tired eyes to open. Her watch on the nightstand showed seven o’clock. Dawn had long since crept into the room. The glare of the morning sun was accompanied by the beat of a drum that ricocheted in her head. Realizing someone was pounding on her door, she pushed back the covers. “Just a minute,” she called.

“It’s me.”

Her heart raced at the sound of Wesley’s voice. Suddenly, her body was energized. She flung open the door and rushed into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Not half as much as I’ve missed you,” he said, stepping into her room and closing the door. “Dylan and I have a room down the hall.”

Susan snuggled against his warm chest then stepped back. “The investigation is still going on in Palmetto, so what are you doing here? Have you solved the case or has something terrible happened to cause you to leave?”

His eyes, heavy with sadness, stared down at her, and her heart skipped a beat.

He pulled her back into his arms. “Karl’s dead.”

Susan stepped back, shocked at the news. That was the last thing she had expected to hear.

Wesley took her hand and led her to a sofa. “Let’s sit down. So much has happened since I last talked with you. Karl’s death caught me by surprise too, and I hate the way it happened. It’s eating at me that I might have provoked it, but I was only trying to do my job. Sometimes, the best of intentions don’t work the way they’re supposed to.

“Before I tell you all the details, I do have some good news on Lorraine’s case. I finally found someone who identified Randy’s photo. We’ve issued a warrant and are pretty sure he’s in Mississippi. That means I have to wait for the authorities there to arrest and hold him. You know me. I don’t like trusting someone else to do my job, but my hands are tied.”

Wesley paused and flexed his fingers. “Okay, now about Karl.” He stopped and ran his hand through his hair as he often did when gathering his thoughts. “I got a warrant thanks to Myrtle’s photographs. Dylan and I were about to execute it when we were notified of the mayor’s death. Zelda had called 911, screaming that Karl had hanged himself.”

“How horrible!”

“Dylan and I rushed to her house. Nothing like running on little or no sleep. It took us quite a while to calm her down so she could tell us exactly what happened. She said she confronted Karl about his frequent Biloxi visits and accused him of cheating on her. He tried to make excuses but couldn’t explain the large withdrawals from their bank account. Finally, he broke down and confessed. He begged her to forgive him, but she told him she could never trust him again, that she was going to see her lawyer and wanted him out of the house by the time she got back.

“Her lawyer’s office is only a few blocks from her house, and she was gone less than an hour. When she arrived back home, Karl’s car was still in the driveway. She stormed into the house, ready to pitch his clothes into the yard, only to find him hanging from the upstairs banister.”

“Poor Zelda.”

Wesley nodded and continued, “Karl left a suicide note, confessing that Lorraine was blackmailing him, but he denied having anything to do with her death. His note and bank statements, along with Myrtle’s photos, solve the blackmail problem, but not Lorraine’s murder. However, I now have a suspect. The witness said Randy arrived at the Rusty Nail the same time as Lorraine. After a rather heated embrace, the couple didn’t enter the bar. Instead, they boarded a boat in the marina. That explains why the bartender didn’t remember seeing either of them.”

“Did he identify the boat? Do you think you can locate it?”

“The Mississippi authorities shouldn’t have any problem. The witness said the stern showed Gulfport as the boat’s homeport, and the name of the boat was also scrawled across the back—
The Trident
.”

Susan gasped. Her whole body shivered as she dug her fingers into Wesley’s arm. “It…it was him,” she said in a ragged breath. “Randy tried to abduct me.”

“Where? When?”

“In the ballroom, last night. I was going to tell you, but you had just arrived at the Rusty Nail and were in a hurry to show Randy’s photo. Besides, I was still too upset at that time. And yes, I was being careful and in the middle of a huge crowd. He, uh Randy, was dressed as Blackbeard. I couldn’t make out any of his features beneath the mask and wig, but I know now it was him. He had a tattoo of a trident on the back of his wrist and went into detail to explain its meaning. I had met the man briefly the first night. He came across like a really nice guy, despite the fact that he was heavily disguised. Heck, lots of people wore masks and costumes. There were even other Blackbeards in the crowd. He wasn’t pushy and didn’t stay long. He said he had an appointment and so he had to leave, but asked if I would save him a dance the next night. I said I would, not really expecting him to show.

“But he did. He met me at the bar and claimed his dance. Considering the crowded dance floor and his pleasant personality, I never suspected a thing. Then he danced us close to an exit and suggested a walk on the beach. I declined, remembering what you said about not venturing out on my own, but when I turned to go, he grabbed my arm. He had me out the door before I knew what happened. I managed to get away when I rammed my knee where it would do the most damage. He’s probably still singing soprano.”

Wesley hugged her. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

He didn’t have to say, ‘I told you so.’ She could read it in his eyes. “Yes, I do. I thought for sure I was going to suffer the same fate as Lorraine, all because I was asking questions. He must have been running scared.”

“He’s a murderer. No doubt paranoia is part of his profile. He must have been afraid someone would tie him to Lorraine, and you’d put two and two together. I’d give anything to get my hands on that creep.”

Wesley’s arms slipped from around her, and he walked toward the balcony doors. As he stood there overlooking the Gulf, Susan couldn’t help but notice how the morning sun danced through his hair. When he turned, his eyes sparkled. Watching him, she found it easy to put everything out of her mind. It didn’t matter how he was dressed, the man always had a magnetism that drew her to him. This morning was no exception. His cream-colored slacks and a navy shirt clung to his body, revealing a muscular and well-defined body. Her fingers itched to explore what lay beneath the fabric.

“I wish I didn’t have to work the kiosk, that we could spend the day together,” she said, “but that wouldn’t be fair to A. K. I’ll be glad to get back to Palmetto where I can arrange to spend time with you.” She cocked her head to one side and looked at him as if she had missed something, and she had. “If you have no authority in Mississippi, why are you here? Surely you didn’t drive all this way to tell me the news. You could have done that by telephone. And what are you going to do while you’re here?”

He crossed the room and stood next to her. “The only thing I can—observe in an unofficial capacity. Our chief gave us leave through Monday, and I’m sure Dylan’s dad will work with us as long as we don’t interfere. Kerry’s team of deputies is searching for Randy now. As soon as he gets a search warrant for Randy’s boat, he’ll put a forensic team aboard. The odds are they’ll find trace evidence that will place Lorraine on Randy’s boat. Kerry said he’d call me when he gets the warrant. I want to be dockside when they execute it. Until then, I’m going to hang around and keep an eye on you and A. K.”

“That makes me feel better.” She slipped an arm around his waist. “What happens when they arrest Randy?”

“I just hope they do and that he hasn’t left the state for who knows where. If they arrest him, Louisiana will issue an order for extradition. Then Mississippi will have to order an extradition hearing. If all goes well, Dylan and I will escort Randy back to Louisiana to face charges.”

“By the way, where is Dylan?”

“He’s visiting his dad. I suggested we meet for lunch in the main dining room. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah. I’ll let A. K. know so she can tell Jack.”

“Ah, the doc is here? Those two must be getting serious.”

“Nothing’s ever certain with A. K. Since it’s the last day of the festival, I suspect it’s going to be a madhouse as far as our costume sales, but I’ll make sure we’re there for lunch. In the meantime, why don’t you stop by the front desk and ask for Miguel? He’s been a big help, and I’m sure he can suggest something to keep you entertained.”

“I might just do that.” Wesley looked around the room. “This is nice. We really should plan a weekend getaway together.”

“Between your schedule and mine, we might find time for that in a year or two.” She grinned. “As much as I’d like to stay here with you, I really have to get dressed and open the kiosk.”

“And I could use another cup of coffee. I’ll stop by later to see how you’re doing.”

Saturday, the last day of the festival, drew even larger crowds. Around ten o’clock, Wesley showed up with Miguel. “Your friend has been showing me around. I could get used to this place.”

“Have you tried the casino?” Susan asked.

“That’s my next stop. Who knows? By the time we meet for lunch, I might be rich.”

“Quickest way to do that is to play blackjack,” A. K. said.

“Speaking of Jack, where is he?” Wesley asked.

“He’s sleeping in. Said he’d meet us for lunch.”

Susan turned her attention to Wesley. “So, you feel lucky, huh? Then I’d better start making my wish list.”

Wesley laughed. “I’d better call Dylan and let him know where to find me. See you around noon.” He gave Susan a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the stairs.

Dylan answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to try my hand with the slots,” Wesley said. “If I’m not in the restaurant, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Good luck.”

Entering the casino was like walking into a whole other world. The lighting concentrated on all the various areas of gambling. Tables offered such games as baccarat, blackjack, craps, and roulette, while a separate room was designated for poker. Video poker and slot machines numbered in the hundreds. Like a stationary carousel, these multi-colored machines drew visitors, all hoping to win a lot with a little. Wesley watched as tourists fed the slots, only to walk away empty-handed. Despite knowing the odds, he cozied up to one of the machines and took a seat. He slid a ten dollar bill in the slot, the max he intended to lose, and read the instructions.

This was a red, white, and blue game. It costs three dollars a pull. That meant he’d only have three plays to win. To hit a jackpot, he’d have to hit three sevens, all the same color. He rubbed his hands together and blew on them for good luck. “Come on, baby,” he mumbled and pushed the button. Three different numbers and colors clinked across the screen. Bummer!

Licking his lips, he pushed the button again. Two white sevens and one red seven locked into place. With only one play left, he sat back and popped his knuckles. “Be kind,” he whispered.

Before he could push the button, a beautiful blonde took a seat next to him and caught his hand. Her silky fingers massaged his. “Seems you could use a little help, handsome. People say I’m lucky. Maybe my touch will send some your way.”

He might be pledged to Susan, but he wasn’t blind. And he definitely wasn’t dead. The woman was enough of a package to stir a reaction from him. A silk blouse clung to firm, taut breasts, and the slit on the side of her black skirt revealed a shapely leg. He adjusted his seat to suppress an uncomfortable tightness. “Lady, I don’t need a little help. I need a lot.”

He pushed the button.

Numbers whirled in the machine. The first one that stopped was a red seven. Then another red seven stopped next to it.

“No way,” Wesley said, his eyes fixated on the last spinning number.

The third red seven clicked into place. Three red sevens flashed on the screen, and bells sounded. A crown gathered around, anxious to see what he had won. The machine printed out a ticket. Three red sevens paid five hundred dollars.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “I won five—” To his dismay, his good luck charm had disappeared into the crowd.

“Stay away from this machine,” a man said. “It won’t be hitting any more today.”

As the people moved away, Wesley looked for the woman but couldn’t find her. He tucked the winning ticket into his shirt pocket and made his way to the restaurant. It was almost noon. Kenny Rogers’s song, “The Gambler,” had it right—the part about walking away. Wesley had no intention of losing his winnings by hoping to hit more. He wasn’t greedy.

A shapely hostess met him at the door. “How many?” she asked.

“Five,” Wesley replied. “I’m early. Might as well bring me a gin and tonic.”

“A waitress will be right with you.”

He had yet to see an average-looking woman employee, and his waitress was no exception. She returned in minutes with his drink and several menus.

Wesley sat facing the entrance so he could keep an eye out for Susan. Thinking about his winnings put an ear-to-ear grin across his face. Then he realized how stupid he must look, sitting alone and grinning like the Cheshire cat. He dropped his head and studied the menu. When someone touched his shoulder, he looked up. There stood his magic charm.