The Corpse Wore Cashmere

by Sylvia Rochester

  “All that’s lacking are people in costumes.” A. K. nudged Susan. “Take a gander over there. I wouldn’t mind dressing up that hunk.”

  A tall man with bulging muscles beneath a skin-tight tee shirt returned A. K.’s stare.

  “Bet he’s a bouncer.”

  “Probably, but despite all that testosterone, I’d settle for Jack in scrubs any day.”

  Ever since Jack had come into A. K.’s life, it was obvious that her friend’s flirting meant nothing. One had only to watch the two together to realize things were heating up between them. Susan expected any day for them to make the big announcement.

  Susan was happy for them. And more than anything, she longed to spend the rest of her life with Wesley, but one obstacle stood in their way—his job. She wanted a long-term relationship, and his line of work couldn’t guarantee that. She had only to look at Melanie to know what could happen.

  Susan plopped her oversized purse on the counter. “Susan Griffin and A. K. Williams to check in,” she said to a wisp of a girl with a baby face. Why was it with each passing year, kids looked younger and younger, while her mirror told another story?

  “Oh, you’re the costume ladies! Mr. Fleming is anxious to meet you. I’ll be right back.”

  A few steps down from the counter, the girl knocked and entered another door. Seconds later, she returned, followed by a man who could double for Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot. With a perfectly curled, thin mustache and coifed dark hair, the pudgy, little man extended a hand in greeting. Keeping in character, he wore an immaculate white linen suit. The only things missing were his monocle and French accent.

  “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance. With your help, this is going to be our best festival ever. Your kiosk is ready, and your complimentary rooms are nearby. Their room cards, please,” he said to the desk clerk, who placed them in his hand. He in turn handed them to Susan. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know. I do, however, have a favor to ask. Would it be possible for you and Ms. Williams to outfit the staff today? I’d love to have them in costume when the guests arrive. Of course, all their expenses will be covered by the hotel.”

  “Sure. As soon as we get set up, I’ll send word by Miguel.”

  “Oh, Miguel, he’s a jewel. If you can’t find me, he can see to your needs.”

  After receiving the room cards, Susan tugged on A. K.’s arm, finally breaking her concentration on Mr. Muscles.

  Miguel was waiting for them on the mezzanine. “I see you have your pass card. I took the liberty of putting your bags in your room. Here’s the key to the kiosk. The expandable gate is light and easy to close.”

  “Thanks.” Susan dropped the key to the kiosk in the cash box. “Give us a minute to set things in order, then you can let Mr. Fleming know that we’re ready to outfit the staff.”

  She and A. K. arranged the garment racks and placed the accessories on display counters. Near the rear of the kiosk, she found a niche for her cash box and credit card machine.

  A. K. grabbed Miguel by the arm. “Come here, you young thing. With your dark hair and eyes, you’d make a perfect Jack Sparrow.”

  Susan gave him a thumbs-up.

  “Works for me,” Miguel said. “You pull together what we’ll need, and I’ll be back in a minute. I know Mr. Fleming is anxious to get started outfitting the employees.”

  For the next couple of hours, A. K. and Susan played paper dolls with real live people. They dressed the women in costumes ranging from modest maidens to anything but. Lace-up vests and high top boots flew off the shelves, along with ragged-hemmed skirts and matching scarves. Of course, the fake jewelry was a big hit.

  The men opted mostly to go as a member of a barbarous crew or a scurrilous captain. But a few decided to take the high ground and dressed in the uniforms of the British. The blue coats with gold trim made quite a showing. Regardless of their choice, they all were quick to brandish sabers or knives.

  Despite the hotel having a large number of employees, the staff failed to make a dent in their inventory. A. K. had known what she was doing when she placed her order.

  Susan didn’t waste any time asking about Lorraine and was surprised to discover that Lorraine had worked at this very same hotel. The current hostess had been hired to replace Lorraine but had never met her. Being from Vegas, the new hostess didn’t have previous knowledge of anyone at the hotel. Susan kept the questions casual, things like how long had they worked with Lorraine, what was she like. She didn’t mention that Lorraine had been murdered. She’d save that bombshell for Miguel, who she bet knew more than anyone.

  When the last of the staff exited the mezzanine in their costumes, Miguel joined Susan and A. K. again. “My crew looks great, and I’m ready for my Jack Sparrow disguise.”

  The last of the employees, Sam the bartender, lingered in front of a mirror. “I really do look good, don’t I?” he said to Susan.

  “Indeed, you do, Captain Hook. Have you worked here long?”

  “A couple of years.”

  “So you probably knew Lorraine.”

  “You mean our last hostess? How do you know her?”

  “She was from my hometown.”

  “I hated to see her go. Some of the staff didn’t care for her snooty attitude.” He took one more look at himself in the mirror. “Well, I’d better get to my post.” Sam waved his infamous prosthesis in the air. “Crocs be damned,” he shouted. “I’ll hang the varmint’s hide to the mizenmast.” He strode toward the stairs with a swagger that would have made John Wayne proud.

  “That’s the spirit,” A. K. called after him. “And speaking of spirits, I’m past due. Miguel, I’m going to leave you in good hands. Susan knows what to do. You’ll look fantastic.”

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” Susan said to A. K. then turned her attention to Miguel. She handed him a blousy shirt and a tight-fitting pair of pants. “Change into these behind that screen, and we’ll go from there.”

  While Miguel put on the garments, Susan continued to talk with him. “How long have you lived in Biloxi?”

  He stepped from behind the screen and put his other clothes on a counter. “All my life.”

  Susan tied a sash around his waist and tucked a black-powder pistol into it. “Hold on. We’re not finished yet.” She positioned a wig designed after Sparrow’s likeness on his head. “Ha, yes, just a few more things.” A tricorn hat and a pair of boots completed the outfit. “Perfect. So, you’ve lived here all your life? Then you must know a good many people.”

  “Mostly those in the hotel industry. I started working the strip when I was in my teens. Did various jobs at the casinos in Gulfport and Biloxi, but I settled on the Pirates’ Reef. Mr. Fleming believed in me, gave me a chance to prove myself, and I worked my way up. I’ve been here five years.” His smile reached from ear to ear. “Don’t plan on working anywhere else.”

  He put on the hat and boots then took a stance in front of a floor-length mirror. “Awesome!”

  “One more thing.” Susan handed him a makeup kit. “You can’t put too much mascara around the eyes.” She grinned. “I suppose you knew Lorraine, too.”

  “Of course. I couldn’t believe it when she up and left.” Miguel paused. “You said ‘I suppose you knew her.’ Did something happen to her?”

  “She’s dead.”

  Miguel’s mouth opened. She thought he was going to say something, but he apparently changed his mind. Then he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that. How’d she die?”

  “She was murdered in Palmetto, my hometown.”

  He gave a low whistle. “How? Who did it?”

  “They’re waiting for an official determination.” Susan thought it best not to give him the gory details. “The investigators still don’t have a suspect. How well did you know her?”

  “About as well as anyone. We’re like family here at the Pirates’ Reef. Not much goes on that the others don’t know about.”

  “Did she have someone s
pecial in her life?”

  Miguel’s eyes narrowed, and he backed away. “Where’s this going? Why all the questions?”

  “I’m close to a detective investigating Lorraine’s case and thought maybe I could find out something about her past. She left Palmetto so long ago, most everyone lost contact with her. Anything you know about her might help in his investigation.”

  “Hey, we’ve all made mistakes from time to time, and I’m not one to point a finger. It would be hearsay anyway, and I sure don’t want to get mixed up in a murder case.”

  He hugged his arms to his body as if to wall himself off from her. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t about to share it.

  “I understand, but if you change your mind, I promise to pass it on as an anonymous source. It’s just that my friend is having a really tough time finding leads.”

  Susan was counting on Miguel’s gregarious nature. Instead, he drew his lips tight and looked away. She decided to try a different approach, throw out her own speculations. “Her sister said Lorraine made a good salary and loved the nightlife, so why did she give up a great job to come home to a small town that had nothing to offer her? The coast and its casinos make Palmetto seem like the dark ages.”

  Miguel took the bait. “I didn’t know Lorraine had a sister or where she called home. We didn’t exactly hang out together. Lorraine was into the nightlife, and that’s not my thing.” He chewed on his bottom lip as if debating to tell her more. “Maybe she left because she didn’t have a choice,” he mumbled.

  “You mean she was fired?”

  He shook his head. “You really should ask Mr. Fleming about Lorraine. I’ve said too much already.” Miguel looked over the mezzanine railing to the lobby below. “It’s time I check with the front desk. I’m sure they could use my help.”

  Susan wasn’t ready to end the conversation, but she needed to be patient, win his trust. Maybe then he’d open up to her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you from your work, and I certainly didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  Miguel tucked his clothes under his arm. “No problem. We’re cool. I’ll see you later.”

  As Miguel approached the stairs, Susan called out, “Hey, if you need help with the makeup, let me know. I’ve got the eyes down pat.”

  Picking up the cash box and the credit card machine, Susan pulled the brass gate across the front of the kiosk and locked it into place. She was ready to join A. K. for that drink, but first she wanted to freshen up and give Wesley a call. Once in her room, she lay back across the bed and punched in his number.

  “Hi, sweetie,” he said upon answering. “How are things on the Barbary Coast?”

  “If you could see the decorations, you’d swear you were there. We outfitted all the staff today and are ready to start with the guests tomorrow. I was itching to find out if anyone heard of Lorraine and couldn’t believe it when I heard she was the hostess here.”

  “Okay, Nancy Drew, since you’re determined to get involved, did you find out anything useful?”

  “Not really. The newly hired hostess knew absolutely nothing about Lorraine, and those who said they knew her had only a working relationship with her. I have a feeling the desk clerk knows more than he’s willing to say, and unless I’m a poor judge of character, he’s going to open up to me before long. What about you? Any news on your end?”

  “A possible motive. Lorraine’s bank account reflects several large deposits.”

  “Ah, blackmail!”

  “It’s a possibility. But who? Someone in Biloxi? Is that why she left, to hide out in Palmetto? Or did her victim hail from Palmetto, and she moved home to be a constant reminder, or should I say threat, to him?”

  “I asked Miguel if she was close to anyone here, but he got skittish and didn’t want to talk about her.”

  “Miguel?”

  “He’s the desk clerk manager. What better place to have an affair than at a hotel? Could be she wasn’t romantically involved with someone but had the goods on someone else. As hostess, I don’t imagine much escaped her.”

  “Since there’s no stopping you, how about I fax you a couple of photos of Palmetto’s dignitaries? See if this Miguel recognizes anyone. I’ve pulled up the hotel’s website and copied their fax number. I’ll send the photos now.”

  “Then I’d better let the front desk know I’m expecting a fax. I’ll pick it up on my way to find A. K.”

  “In other words, you’re going to the bar.” He laughed.

  “One thing’s for sure—she’s making the most of her stay here.”

  “All kidding aside, be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Wish I could be there with you.”

  “Wish you could too. Oh, I almost forgot. Before I left Palmetto, Myrtle stopped by the boutique. I suggested that she go through Lorraine’s things and look for any photos, letters, or anything that would identify Lorraine’s friends. She said she would. I told her to call you if she found anything.”

  “Thanks. Now go and have some fun.”

  “I’m going to try. Love you.”

  Susan ended the call and placed the phone over her heart. In her mind, she could still hear Wesley’s deep voice and longed for his lips against hers. “Soon,” she mumbled.

  She picked up the hotel’s phone and punched the number for the front desk. “Hi, this is Susan Griffin. I’m expecting a fax and will be down shortly to pick it up.”

  “One’s crossing now,” the clerk answered. “I’ll put it in your room slot.”

  After refreshing her makeup, she headed for the lobby. The minute she touched the doorknob, she was stopped in her tracks again by a blinding light—the same light that overwhelmed her when she and A. K. had loaded the van. Its center seemed even more brilliant, and rays streaked out in all directions. Shaken by the image, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, the light had disappeared. Was it a warning? Was it trying to point her in another direction? While she thought about what it could mean, the ding of the outside elevators broke her concentration.

  Susan hurried out of the room and to the front desk. “I believe a fax just came in for me, Susan Griffin.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The clerk handed her several pages. A quick look indicated that most of the pictures were taken from newspaper clippings. She slipped them into her purse and entered the casino. A. K. was nowhere to be found among the rows of slot machines. Susan spotted her at a blackjack table with a hefty pile of chips in front of her.

  “Are you about to break the bank?”

  “Honey, we should have done this a long time ago.” A. K. held up her hand to the dealer. “I’m cashing out. Better quit while I’m ahead. Care to join me for a nightcap?”

  “Sure. It’s been a long day, and I know it’s going to be non-stop tomorrow.” Susan chose a lounge off the lobby where it wasn’t so noisy, picked out a table near the entrance, and ordered a margarita on the rocks.

  “I’ll have the same.” A. K. waited until the waiter brought their drinks. After he left, she took a sip then asked Susan, “So, what’s up? I can always tell when you’ve spoken to Wesley. You get that dreamy, faraway look in your eyes.”

  Susan lowered her voice. “Lorraine’s bank account showed some pretty big deposits. He thinks she was blackmailing someone.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the fax. “He sent me these, and I’m going to see if Miguel recognizes anyone.”

  A. K. stirred her drink with her finger. “Girl, stay out of the casino. The odds on him implicating someone from Palmetto are slim to none. Most of these are old-time politicians and not exactly the playboy type. Who’d want any of them?”

  “I know it’s a long shot, but it won’t hurt to ask. If Wesley can establish a Palmetto connection, it would make his investigation lots easier. I have to be careful how I approach Miguel, though. He’s reluctant to talk about Lorraine.”

  A. K. licked a tiny bit of salt from the rim of her glass as she studied the pictures. �
�Palmetto’s finest leaves a lot to be desired. I wouldn’t think any of them have deep pockets, and it would take that to hook up with a real beauty.” She returned the papers to Susan. “But if Miguel is your go-to man, now’s as good a time as any to see what he knows. He just walked in.” She downed the rest of her drink and pushed up from the table. “I’ll leave you to play detective. I’m ready for a nice, warm bath.”

  “And a long talk with Jack?”

  “Way ahead of you there, girlfriend.”

  A. K. strolled out of the lounge, pausing long enough to point Miguel in Susan’s direction.

  Susan started to stuff the pictures in her purse then stopped. If she left them out, it might appear as if she and A. K. were just discussing them and that she had no intention of thrusting them upon him. She took another sip and let the delicious mixture of Tequila and Triple Sec slide down her throat.

  Miguel approached and stood by her side. “You ready for tomorrow, Ms. Griffin?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Please, call me Susan.” Miguel had applied the mascara with the hands of an artist. “I see you didn’t need my help with the makeup. Your eyes look terrific. Have a seat, Mr. Sparrow. Can I order you anything?”

  “No, thanks.” He glanced at the pictures. “What’s all this?”

  “Our local big shots,” she said, turning the pages so he could get a better look. “If the festival is a success, I plan to run an article in the local paper, ask those who are interested to join us next year. A. K. and I might even hold a drawing for a free weekend on us.”

  “Mr. Fleming will be glad to hear that.” Miguel leafed through the pages and stopped on one in particular. “Hey, I know him.”

  “Who?”

  “This guy,” he said, pointing to a man standing beside a podium.

  “That’s Karl Hightower, our mayor.”

  “Well, he’s a frequent visitor here…or at least he was. I haven’t seen him in a while. Come to think about it, he stopped visiting about the time Lorraine left. Maybe he didn’t trust the new hostess’s choice of girls.”