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Authors: Sylvia Rochester

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Disrobed for Death (13 page)

BOOK: Disrobed for Death
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“I stopped by the hospital and talked to several employees. I don’t think we’re going to find anything there. No one had anything negative to say about the doc, certainly not anything to suggest someone held a grudge.” Wesley closed his hand around hers. “Look at me.”

Susan gave him a quick glance then directed her attention toward the fire.

“You haven’t changed,” he said. “I can still tell when you’re keeping something from me.”

She swallowed and placed her other hand on top of his. “I followed Clarissa to New Orleans today.”

His fingers tightened around hers like a vice. “You what?”

Susan winched and pulled her hand from his. “Hey, I’m a big girl. After we parted ways, I got used to doing things on my own.”

“I thought you wanted my help. If you’re not going to listen—”

“I gave it some thought, but you have to realize I’m not the helpless teeny bopper you once knew,” she said, her voice terse. “Sure, I realized there was an element of danger in what I did, but the odds were in my favor that I wouldn’t get gunned down on the street.”

“Undoubtedly, you haven’t been to New Orleans in a while. That could very well happen. I care about your safety.”

Susan gazed into his eyes. They reflected genuine concern.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She poked his arm and gave him an impish grin. “Aren’t you curious to hear what I found out?”

He grunted.

“I really was careful. If you could have seen my disguise, you would have laughed. Even my assistant manager didn’t recognize me. Picture a plain Jane. I was a gray object in a black and white photo. No one was likely to give me a second look.”

“I can’t imagine you looking that way…ever.”

She laughed. “But I did. A dull brown wig, drab clothes and coat worked wonders. I also rented a tan sedan and made sure to keep my distance. After traipsing through antique stores on Royal Street, Clarissa headed to the Napoleon House for lunch. That’s where she met up with Gary Bozeman.”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s the local bug man. Get this—he sat behind me at LSU. Earlier, a customer of mine told me she used to do housekeeping for Clarissa and that Clarissa had even flirted with the bug man. I never dreamed it would be someone I knew. When I saw them together, my mind went into overdrive. Gary would be the perfect person to pull off the murder. He has access to most of the apartments in Palmetto and even if he was seen in the vicinity, his presence would not be out of the ordinary. So, what do you think?”

“That’s a possibility.”

“If you had to guess, how much money could you stuff into a large manila envelope, say about a nine-by-twelve envelope?”

“Depends on the denomination of the bills. Is that something that passed between them?”

“That’s a yes. It was bulging, and she made sure she was overheard saying, ‘Here are the tickets. Enjoy the show.’ Like I believe that.”

“I admit it’s very suspect, but not enough to give me probable cause. I’ll run a background check on Mr. Bozeman, see if he has any priors. Shouldn’t be too hard to find out if he’s in financial trouble.”

“If he doesn’t have a mug shot, do a Google image search. He’s plastered all over the place. A driver license photo never looks like the person. That way, you’ll be sure to recognize him if he shows up at Jack’s place.”

A menacing frown crossed his brow. “You trying to tell me how to do my job?”

Susan shook her head. When was she going to learn to stop talking?

He smiled. “Relax. I’m teasing.”

Tension drained from her body, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him what she had planned next. If things went wrong, he’d find out soon enough, when she was handcuffed and taken to jail. Worse was the thought of being fingerprinted and facing the cameras. She could hear the deputy barking out orders, “Look straight ahead. Turn to the side. Don’t slump.”

She stared into Wesley’s eyes. Yes, he’d come to her aid and bail her out. No matter how mad he might be, he still cared for her and would stand by her. She saw it as a chance to stop the murder before it happened. If she could pull it off, neither Jack nor Wesley would be in harm’s way. Not wanting to tip her hand, she changed the subject.

“Did you finish Myrtle’s porch?”

He took the bait, but not without skepticism. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and didn’t pursue the issue. “Sure did. She watched me drive every nail, and I got an on-going evaluation.”

“Did she criticize? Find fault?”

“Just the opposite. To my surprise, she couldn’t have been nicer. You’d think I was the world’s greatest carpenter. When I finished, she paid me and insisted I have lunch with her. Her cooking smelled too good to turn down. She had set the dining room table with china and crystal, even had a centerpiece of fresh flowers. I was impressed and glad that I didn’t refuse after she had gone to all that trouble.

“The meal was delicious, and I was impressed with her furniture. It was like stepping back in time. Everything was turn-of-the century. What really caught my eye were the numerous photographs—on tables, the mantle, and hanging from the wall. Most of the pictures showed two young girls. When I asked about them, Myrtle said the younger girl was her sister. She said Lorraine left Palmetto shortly after her parents died. Since she referred to her sister in the past tense, I assume she’s dead.”

“Now you’ve stoked my curiosity. I’d like to know about Myrtle and her sister, what made them part ways.” She noticed the frown on Wesley’s face. “Okay, so I’m nosy. A customer of mine, Vera, has lived here all her life. Maybe she knows about Myrtle’s family.”

Seeing the logs had burnt down, Wesley crossed to the fireplace, placed a couple more on the grate, and turned on the gas lighter. When they caught, he cut off the gas jet. Once again, he sat beside her, but she could tell he was still thinking about Myrtle.

“Loneliness—that’s what I felt. Maybe something terrible happened between the sisters, and that’s what drives her anger.”

“Now you’ve really got me curious.”

Flames licked around the logs and painted the room in a soft yellow light. Susan was tempted to stay, but she knew where that would lead and she wasn’t ready to take their relationship that far…not yet. They still had a lot of catching up to do.

She stood up and slipped on her blazer. “Walk me to the door?”

“Do you have to leave?”

“It’s best that I do. Maybe another time…”

He put an arm around her shoulder. “When you’re ready, let me know. I’m not going anywhere.”

That night, before Susan fell asleep, she relived those last moments with Wesley. This time, she didn’t leave. She stayed the night, lost in his arms, the way she wanted it to happen when they finally committed to one another. She awoke, cursing the daylight, not wanting the dream to end, but the alarm clock wasn’t to be denied.

Before leaving for work Monday morning, Susan placed a call to Gary’s Pest Control and left a message that she would like to hire his services. “I’m Susan Griffin, owner of the Bawdy Boutique. Lately, I’ve had a problem with spiders, and I’m past due getting a termite contract. The store hours are nine to five.” She closed by leaving the boutique’s phone number. Gary returned her call around noon and said he’d be there within the hour.

“I still think you should keep Gary busy and let me go after the money,” A. K. whispered as she and Susan huddled in the back of the shop.

“No way. If anyone gets in trouble, it’s going to be me. I’m the one who had the vision, remember?”

Around noon, the front door opened, and Gary entered the shop. He held a clip board in his hand. Khaki pants, a blue sweater, and a tan work jacket with his name and logo emblazoned on the pocket made for a professional appearance. Standing next to Debbie, Gary appeared taller than Susan remembered.

“Can I help you?” Debbie asked.

“I’m looking for Susan Griffin.”

When Debbie glanced toward the back of the shop, Susan motioned for Gary to join her. “It’s okay, Debbie. Come on back, Mr. Bozeman.”

Gary paused long enough to take another good look at Debbie then made his way to Susan. About halfway through the store, he stopped and squinted. “Hey, I know you. We had a few classes together at LSU. I often wondered what happened to you.”

“I left town after graduation,” she said as he approached. “I didn’t make the connection with your name, but seeing you, I do remember. I miss my college days, but now that I’m back, I hope to connect with my old friends.”

His eyes devoured her body, the way it always did when he used to look at her. “You’re even prettier than I remember.”

The smell of chemicals clung to his clothes. It was all she could do to keep from wrinkling her nose. Stains around his knees reminded her that his job was anything but glamorous, but necessary. The thought of crawling under house and into sheds teaming with critters made her shiver. Killing varmints was one thing, but could this old classmate really kill a human being? She remembered it was disgusting how he chased anything in skirts. And she had heard from classmates that he expected way more than they were willing to give. On top of that, he was cheap…even left one date to pay the bill at a restaurant. What a travesty it would be if a low life like Gary killed Jack. Somehow she managed to suppress the anger that churned in her gut.

She studied his face and was drawn to his beady eyes, knowing full well there was no such thing as a stereotyped killer. Numerous cases of the all-American, boy next door who committed unspeakable crimes disproved that theory. The mind, not the appearance, was to blame.

“Well, I’m glad to see you again.” When his long, effeminate fingers reached out to shake her hand, it took every ounce of willpower not to jerk her hand away when she touched his.

“You mentioned you had trouble with spiders. I have just the thing to rid you of them, and my basic plan will take care of any other problems you might have.” He handed her a brochure with drawings of insects surrounding the text. “The initial treatment costs four-hundred and fifty dollars and includes treating for termites. After that, the contract is one-hundred and forty-five dollars a year. I can start tomorrow afternoon if that’s okay with you.”

“Works for me. I’ll have a check ready.”

“Where have you been that I haven’t run into you?”

“Mostly right here. I’ve been busy getting my business up and running. Never knew there were so many forms, permits, and licenses required. But you’d know all about that, having a business of your own.”

“Huh, every time I turn around there’s another new regulation to comply with. I get tired of jumping through hoops. I wish they’d back off and just let me do my job.” He glanced around the store, pausing to take another look at Debbie and Sheila. Then he spotted A. K. “Nice merchandise.”

It was all Susan could do not to gag. This creep hadn’t changed a bit. “What made you decide to become an exterminator?”

“After college, I was living with my folks in Amite, north of Hammond. The Formosa mosquitos moved in and the pest control companies had more business than they could handle. My bachelor uncle owned an extermination business and asked if I’d be interested in learning the trade. Since I didn’t have a job, and my parents were anxious for me to find my own place, I took him up on his offer. Most of his customers were in the Hammond area, so he moved his headquarters there. A few years ago, he died and left the business to me.”

“Sorry about your uncle.”

“Thanks. He died of cancer. The doctor said exposure to chemicals probably caused it. I make sure to take every precaution when I’m spraying.”

How convenient
, Susan thought.

Gary inched closer and whispered. “I notice you’re not wearing a wedding ring. If you don’t have any plans for tonight, I know a great little restaurant.”

Susan fought back the urge to puke and backed away. “As tempting as it sounds,” she lied, “I’m going to have to pass. I’m in a relationship.”

A scowl crossed his face, and his voice reflected disappointment. “Well, if things don’t work out between you two, the offer still stands. Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” He turned to go.

Not wanting him to leave before she could set her plan in motion, she put her hand on his arm. “In case I’m not here, I’ll leave a check with my assistant manager. She can sign the contract for me. Let me introduce you to her.” She motioned for A. K. to join them.

A. K. sashayed toward them, wearing an emerald-green jersey dress that clung to her like a second skin. Cut low in the front, her ample breasts teased the observer with an abundance of cleavage, which the wiggle in her walk exaggerated. Her presence definitely demanded a second look.

“Well, hello there,” he said, obviously pleased at what he saw…and what he no doubt imagined was concealed beneath her flimsy dress. “I’m Gary Bozeman. Ms. Griffin was kind enough to engage my services.”

“I’m Anna Katherine, but everyone calls me A. K.”

A. K. gave him a sultry look and let her hand slither down her dress and over her voluptuous curves. “Did I hear you say you know a wonderful restaurant?”

Like a dog tempted with a treat, his jaw dropped slightly, and he threatened to drool.

Oh, A. K., I’m going to owe you big time.

“The Rain Forest—great food, terrific drinks, and a fabulous atmosphere. You interested?” he asked.

“As long as it doesn’t come with critters, but then I’ll have you to take care of that.”

Gary drew a long breath and his male ego seemed to swell with pride. “Give me your number and address, and I’ll pick you up about eight.”

“I have errands to run, so why don’t I meet you there?”

“Sure. It’s in Hammond, behind the new mall on Corporate Drive.”

As soon as Gary walked out the front door, A. K. turned and pretended to run a finger down her throat. “Yuck!”

“You still got it, babe. I’m afraid you might have to fight him off, but keep him occupied as long as you can. And by all means, call me when you leave the restaurant.”

 

Chapter 11

On the way home, Susan stopped at a thrift store and picked up a black knit cap and sweat shirt. She hurried with her purchases, as it was important she keep track of the time. If she left her apartment for Gary’s at eight o’clock, he should be well on his way to the restaurant, and she wouldn’t have to worry about passing him on the road. She hoped A. K. could keep him entertained for several hours, as she didn’t know how long it would take to search his house.

BOOK: Disrobed for Death
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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