The Corpse Wore Cashmere (17 page)

“It’ll do my dad good to know we’re all here for him,” Dylan said. “We won’t stay long.”

The wrinkles faded from her forehead. “We’re going to keep him here overnight and monitor him around the clock. If all goes well, we’ll move him to a private room. What he needs more than anything is to rest. Call the ER and ask for Sadie. I’ll keep you posted and let you know when we’re sending him to the floor.”

Dylan pulled a card from his pocket and scribbled a number on the back. “Here’s my cell number. I’m at the Pirates’ Reef, room two thirty-eight.”

Chief Powell had two IVs and a patchwork of wires beneath his gown that connected to a bedside heart monitor. He screwed his mouth from side to side as he adjusted the oxygen tubes in his nose. Upon seeing them, he forced a smile. “I didn’t know I had a fan club.”

His voice sounded weak.

“How you feeling, Dad?”

“Like someone hit me in the chest with a baseball bat.”

“You sure scared me. The doc says you’re going to be okay, but that you need to rest. The nurse is going to let me know when they move you to a room.”

Chief Powell nodded and looked to Wesley and then Susan.

“If there’s anything we can do, let us know,” Wesley said.

“We’ll be praying for you,” Susan added.

The nurse approached. “Okay, time’s up.”

Dylan squeezed his dad’s arm. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, son.”

The ride back to the Pirates’ Reef was a quiet one. Susan sure hoped the diagnosis was correct and that Chief Powell would recover. She stared again at some of the remains of past hurricanes and couldn’t help but draw an analogy—Chief Powell was fighting a storm of his own.

It was after five by the time they arrived back at the Pirates’ Reef. The three of them went to A. K.’s room, where they brought her up to date on Chief Powell’s condition.

“I’m so glad he’s going to be okay,” A. K. said. “What about tonight? It’s the last night of the festival. Since none of us can be with Chief Powell in ICU, is everyone planning on attending?”

“Guess so,” Wesley said, “as long as Dylan and I don’t have to come in costume.”

“Well, you have to wear something to get you in the spirit of things,” Susan said. “How about a bandana or maybe a tricorn hat?”

Wesley and Dylan eyed one another. In unison, they both said, “Hats.”

“I think Jack would go for that too,” A. K. said. “He’s burnt out on the Blackbeard costume.”

“I’ll stop by the kiosk and pick up three hats,” Susan said.

“Good, I want to go find Jack and drag him out of the casino. Here, you can take care of the cash box, too. What time do we want to head for the ballroom?”

“Early, say about seven o’clock,” Susan said. “I want Wesley and Dylan to see the battle.”

Dylan grabbed A. K.’s arm. “Hold up. I’ll walk with you. I want to try my hand at the casino. Maybe I’ll get lucky like Wesley.”

Susan and Wesley walked to the mezzanine, where she handed Wesley the cash box while she unlocked the kiosk and fetched three hats. “Not too many of these left,” she said, tucking them under her arm. “Let me lock up again, and we’ll go back to my room.”

She pulled the grate across the kiosk and locked it in place. Wesley put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. Seeing sadness in his eyes, she stepped closer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing right now, and I plan on keeping it that way.” He ran his fingers down her arm, bringing her hand to his lips. “If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Me? I’m going to be just fine. You’re the one who could have been blown up.” Betty Sue’s remark about losing a loved one crossed Susan’s mind again.

“Something about this investigation isn’t right, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’ll be glad when we get away from here. Give me the hats. I can carry them, too.”

They returned to Susan’s room. While she put the cash box into the safe, Wesley crossed the room and gazed out at the Gulf. “It’s strange that so many people are having such a good time and don’t have an inkling of the danger that surrounds them.

“The investigation is in Kerry’s hands now. I wish I knew for certain that he was going to catch that slime ball, and that Randy will pay for what he did to Lorraine. But my dwelling on it won’t do any of us any good. I’m going to try to put it out my mind for tonight. You should do the same. Let’s enjoy the time we have.”

Susan picked up one of the hats and crammed it on his head. “Aye aye, Captain.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her to meet his lips.

A little past seven, A. K. and Jack knocked on Susan’s door. Dylan was with them.

“We’re ready.” Susan opened the door and handed Jack and Dylan the hats. “How’d you do at the casino, Dylan?”

“Not too good,” he grumbled.

“Should have worn your hat,” she said with a teasing grin. “It might have brought you good luck. Have you heard any more news on your dad?”

“I just talked to the nurse. He’s doing okay. She said she’ll call me if there’s any change.”

Together the five of them joined a throng of people heading for the ballroom. When the cannon fired, Wesley grabbed Susan.

She laughed. “Scared me too, the first time I heard it. It’s part of the show. We’d better hurry. It’s started.” Susan led them to a table. “I think you’ll like it. They do a terrific job.”

To her surprise, the show had a different ending. This time the captain of the defeated ship was made to walk the plank.

“Should we free him?” the captor bellowed to the audience.

“No,” the crowd roared back.

“What if he buys your first round of drinks?”

“Aye,” the crowd shouted.

The captor tossed a bag to the bartender. “Here’s his booty of gold. Take what ye need.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and the music started playing.

When the silk screens dropped and converted the room into a huge tavern, Wesley hiked his eyebrows, and his mouth curled into a smile. “That was some show, all right, but all these people make me edgy—too easy for someone to hide among them.”

“You don’t think Randy would be so brazen as to show up here, do you?”

“After he blew up his boat, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

A young woman in scanty attire sidled up to Dylan. “Please, sir, may I have this dance?” she asked with a sultry voice.

Dylan stood and bowed, his eyes lingering on her bosom. “My pleasure.”

“What can I say? The man’s a chick magnet,” Wesley whispered.

“Come on, Jack. They’re playing our song,” A. K. said, tugging him up from his chair.

Susan gave Wesley a questioning look. “Are we just going to sit here?”

He rose and extended his hand. “I never pass up a chance to hold you close.” Taking her in his arms, they danced their way around the room.

The music and the feel of Wesley’s body next to hers acted like an aphrodisiac, wiping away all thoughts of the case. Nothing mattered except that she and Wesley were together. She wished the moment could last forever, but it didn’t. Standing by the door, the one that exited onto the beach, was a man dressed as Blackbeard. She froze, bringing Wesley to a halt.

“What’s wrong?”

A knot formed in Susan’s throat. All she could do was point. “There…by the door,” she finally croaked. “It’s him.” The memory of being dragged down the sidewalk flooded her mind. Her chest tightened, and her breath came in short gasps.

Wesley looked in the direction she pointed. “There’s no one there.”

Susan’s fingers dug into Wesley’s arm. “I could have sworn I saw him.” Her voice quivered.

“Then we’d better have a look.” He peeled back her fingers and wrapped his own around her arm. “Stay close.”

She balked at going after the man, but was helpless against Wesley’s strength. They entered the hall surrounding the ballroom. It was empty. Wesley opened the door to the beach. Nothing.

“If someone was here, he’s gone now,” Wesley said. “Blackbeard, you say? I see at least three others on the floor in that costume. It could have been anyone. One thing’s for sure. I’m with you now, and no one’s going to get you alone.”

Susan’s racing heart began to slow, and her breathing returned to normal. Back at their table, Wesley used his napkin and dabbed at perspiration that crawled down her temples. “Sorry, I let my imagination get the best of me. Of course, it couldn’t have been Randy. He’s not so stupid as to show up here.”

Wesley nodded. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Susan spied Sam tending bar. “I’ll go with you. I want you to meet someone.”

Sam met her with his usual greeting. “Hello, there, costume lady. I hear you’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Got to get back to my real job. Sam, this is Wesley. He’s a detective from Palmetto.”

The men shook hands.

“I want to thank you for helping Susan,” Wesley said. “I owe you. If you’re ever down my way and need help, give me a call.” He handed Sam his card.

Sam gave it a quick glance. “Thanks, good to know. So what’ll it be?”

Wesley ordered their drinks then turned his attention to Susan. “You okay now?”

“I’m fine,” she said, although her stomach still fluttered.

“I’m going to miss you,” a voice said, tapping her on the shoulder. Miguel stepped into view. “This must be Wesley.”

Susan made the introductions. “You’ve been a great help to me. If you ever decide to leave the Gulf Coast, you’d make a terrific salesman in the costume shop.”

“Thanks, but Palmetto sounds a little too laid back for me.” He chuckled. “Give me a ring when you’re ready to check out. I’ll have someone load your van.”

“No need. We have three strong men who can handle that.” Susan leaned over and kissed Miguel on the cheek. “Thanks again for everything.”

“It’s been a pleasure. Take care of this lady,” he said to Wesley as he disappeared into the crowd.

Wesley paid for their drinks and carried them back to their table. The song had ended, and everyone had cleared the dance floor. A. K. sat at the table. Dylan and Jack were nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Jack?” Susan asked A. K.

“Getting us a drink.”

“I guess Dylan found a dance partner for the night,” Wesley said.

“Maybe more than one,” A. K. said. She pointed out Dylan, who sat at a table with three other women.

Jack returned with their drinks, which went down like water. On the first beat of the next song, they were on the dance floor.

“I’m glad we have this time together, even if it is under such dire circumstances,” Wesley said.

Susan answered by squeezing his hand. Any time spent with Wesley was good.

Around midnight, Susan and Wesley told A. K. and Jack goodnight. Holding her hand, Wesley led her to the elevators. As they stepped off on the second floor, Wesley’s phone rang.

“Where? I’ll be right there.”

“What is it?” Susan asked.

“They found Randy. He’s dead.”

“Stay in your room and lock the door. I’ll call you when I know something.” Wesley rushed toward the stairs.

“I’m going with you,” Susan said, grabbing hold of his arm.

“But—”

“No buts. You and Dylan can’t interfere, so there’s no reason why I can’t go with you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Susan stopped and put her hands on her hips. “You’re not leaving me behind. If I have to, I’ll follow in my van.”

“You are one determined woman.”

“You got that right.”

Wesley punched in Dylan’s number. “Meet me at the front door.”

“I can’t hear with the music,” Dylan said. “Say again.”

“Randy’s dead. Meet me out front,” Wesley shouted. He slipped the phone into his pocket.

Once outside, Susan pulled back on Wesley’s arm. “Wow, look at the rain,” Susan said as they exited the hotel. With all the noise in the ballroom, she’d had no idea a storm was underway. The downpour blew sideway in sheets, and water lapped over the curbs.

“Wait here. I’ll bring the truck around,” Wesley said. He made a mad dash to the parking lot.

Susan stepped back closer to the hotel’s entrance to avoid the blowing rain. A few moments later, Wesley pulled under the covered entrance.

Dylan joined Susan, who was hurrying to get into Wesley’s truck. He held open the passenger door for her then climbed into the back seat of the quad-cab. Susan shook her head, sending out a fine spray of water. “I’m not exactly dressed for this kind of weather,” she said, rubbing her arms and looking down at her skimpy outfit.

“I’ve got a windbreaker somewhere back there, Dylan. See if you can find it. I should also have a towel or a rag,” Wesley said.

“Here you go.” Dylan handed the jacket to Susan. “This rag doesn’t look too clean, but it’ll dry you off,” he said to Wesley. “So what exactly happened to Randy?”

“Kerry didn’t give any details, only that they found his body in a seedy hotel about two miles south of Gulfport.”

“Murder or suicide?” Dylan asked.

“I have no idea. Neither would surprise me,” Wesley said.

Dylan gave a disgusted sigh. “Guess that brings our case to an end.”

“I hope so,” Wesley said. “If the blood and hair evidence is a DNA match to Lorraine, it should be enough to establish culpability. Isn’t that what we wanted? We don’t have to have a trial to get justice.”

Dylan leaned over the seat. “Yeah, but his death leaves lots of unanswered questions. Why did he kill Lorraine? Did he act alone? Was he hired to kill her? If so, who hired him and why?” Dylan nudged Wesley’s shoulder with his elbow. “What if Randy was murdered?”

“Your dad and Kerry will have to deal with that. He’s no longer our problem.”

The short ride to Gulfport seemed to take forever. With the windshield wipers counting down the seconds, Susan thought about the questions Dylan had raised. She’d like to know the answers too. “Another thing bugs me. How’d Randy manage to stay hidden? Didn’t the police show his picture to all motels up and down the coast?”

“I’m sure they did,” Wesley said. “Maybe someone was covering for him. Okay, we’re leaving Gulfport city limits. Keep your eyes peeled for the Silver Sands motel.”

“I don’t see a sign,” Susan said a few minutes later, “but I do see flashing blue lights. That must be the police.”