Disrobed for Death

by Sylvia Rochester

  “Honey, what you had was a nightmare.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Susan told her everything about the funeral home and her wake. “I don’t know what’s worse. Being the deceased or grieving for a loved one. Watching all my family and friends tore my heart out.” Susan dried her eyes with a piece of her top sheet.

  “At his wake, he pointed out members of his family. His sister, Ramona McCray, is a customer. I’ve waited on her many times but never asked her about her family. I intend to find out if Jack’s really her brother. He also pointed out his brothers, Henry and Chris. Even his ex-wife showed up. She shops with us, too.”

  “That explains it. You took a few familiar faces and built your dream around it. That’s normal. So what was this guy’s name?”

  “Jack Evans.”

  The color drained from A. K.’s face. If Susan didn’t know better, she would have sworn A. K. was the one who had seen a ghost. At that moment, someone tapped on the door, and the doctor stepped into the room.

  “Someone call my name?”

  Jack Evans wore a white lab coat over a pale-blue dress shirt and a dark-blue tie. A stethoscope circled his neck. There wasn’t a dark hair out of place, and his blue eyes seemed to bore right through her.

  Susan clasped her hand over her heart that seemed to want to jump out of her chest. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There he was—Jack—the exact, same person in every way. “You’re alive.”

  “I hope so,” he said, extending his hand.

  “He…he’s your surgeon,” A. K. piped up. “How did you know his name?”

  “I don’t exactly keep it a secret,” Jack said.

  A. K. shook her head. “But Susan was too groggy to remember meeting you or anyone. You even said so yourself when they wheeled her into surgery.”

  Jack glanced back at Susan. “Maybe you overheard a nurse or an orderly. I’m also paged quite a bit over the speaker. Could be my name registered with your subconscious. It really doesn’t matter. What does is that all your vitals are good, and I’m going to let you go home tomorrow.”

  “But we…” Susan stammered while scrutinizing his face, hoping that somehow he really wasn’t the man from Parlor B, the man who would soon have a bullet through his forehead.

  “We what?” he asked.

  “You’re in danger.”

  “Is that so?” he said, pulling a pen light from his pocket and examining her eyes. “Let me guess. You dreamed it.”

  “It was more than just a dream. I—”

  The nurse returned holding a tray with implements, bandages, and antiseptics.

  “Ms. Griffin, if I had nickel for every story I’ve heard from patients coming out from under sedation, I’d be a rich man. Okay, turn your head and look down,” Jack said.

  Susan followed his instructions. As he lifted her hair, she felt a little twinge when he removed the bandage.

  “You’re lucky. I only had to shave a small place near the base of your skull. Your long hair should cover the area. Everything looks good. The nurse will dress your wound, which will absorb any seepage. I want you to change the dressing twice a day. I’ll give you a prescription for an antibiotic ointment to apply each time you change the bandage.

  “You shouldn’t have much drainage. Once it stops, you can then resume your regular activities. You can shower, but don’t wash your hair. I want to see you in my office in three days. In the meantime, if you have any problems, call me. My number will be on your discharge papers.” He crossed his arms and smiled down at her. “I don’t want you to fret over your dream. I plan on taking good care of myself.”

  Knowing what the future might hold for him, Susan wanted to grab his hand and keep him close. Instead, she drew her lips tight and fought back the urge to tell him everything. Now was not the time. Three days? Maybe by then, she would figure out a way to convince him.

  After Jack and the nurse left, A. K. had a deer-in-the-headlight look on her face.

  “Okay, you’re freaking me out. We definitely have to find out if Jack is Ramona’s brother and if she also has brothers named Henry and Chris.” A. K. scratched her head and seemed to ponder the situation. “If Jack was dead in your dream, how come he’s alive now?”

  “Because it hasn’t happened yet.” Susan gasped as her mouth flew open. “Ohmygosh! What’s the date?”

  “Uh, the second…no, the third of February. Why?”

  “Jack was shot on Valentine’s Day. If what I saw was a premonition, we only have a few weeks to save him.”

  “We? I don’t remember volunteering.”

  “I can’t do this alone, and you’re the only one who believes me. You do, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. Like the doc said, maybe you overheard his name, but if Ramona and her brothers check out, that’s a whole other ballgame. I’ll give her a call and say we got in some new things I think would be perfect for her. Then I’ll pick her brain for information. What I’d really like is to get a shot at his ex-wife. Did you by chance hear her name?”

  “Clarissa.”

  “Clarissa Evans! I should have guessed. Of all the customers, she’s a real pain in the—”

  “I knew I could count on you,” Susan said, feeling just a tad better about the situation. “We can do this. I know we can.”

  “Get real. This is not our line of expertise. If there’s any truth to your story, we’re going to need professional help. Got anyone in mind?”

  “Maybe.” Susan reached for A. K.’s arm. “First, let’s get me walking and out of this place. Did you bring me some clothes?”

  “Warm ups and a tee shirt should get you home. You’ll have to wait until the nurse removes your IV before you can change. That won’t be until they’re ready to discharge you. Your toiletry bag is on the lavatory. Girlfriend, you’re in desperate need of makeup, and for gosh sakes, brush your teeth.” A. K. placed Susan’s overnight bag in a chair.

  “Thanks.” Susan deliberately blew her breath at A. K.

  “Yuck.” A. K. turned her head and stepped back as Susan closed the door.

  “One more thing,” A. K. said, “keep me out of your dreams.”

  After several trips up and down the hall, Susan said she’d had enough and suggested that A. K. might want to check on the boutique. “Debbie and Sheila could probably use your help. We put out a lot of promotions, and I’m sure they’re going to be busy.”

  “Okay, but I’ll be back in the morning. In the meantime, I’ll try to get in touch with Ramona and Clarissa.”

  Later that afternoon, Susan tried striking up a conversation with the nurses while she continued to walk the hall. She wanted to find out more about the doctor. But at the mention of his name, they all changed the subject. She was getting nowhere fast, and all the walking wasn’t helping her headache. She returned to her room and climbed back into bed.

  A little while later, a middle-aged but shapely-looking woman entered the room. She rolled around a pail of water with a mop and set about swabbing the floor. With short, curly blonde hair, full lips and a slightly up-turned nose, Susan imagined the woman must have been a knockout when she was young. Knowing that orderlies and maintenance employees usually didn’t miss a trick, she banked on the woman being more talkative than the nurses. Easy does it, she told herself.

  When the worker passed the mop under the bed, Susan had a chance to read her name tag. “You been working here long, Edna?”

  “Longer than I planned, but with three kids and a husband who works construction, this job’s a constant and helps keep food on the table.”

  “Then you must be familiar with Doctor Evans.”

  Edna stopped cleaning and leaned on her mop. “Honey, if you’re interested in him, get in line. I don’t see how the poor man can make his rounds with all the nurses and patients hitting on him.”

  “He’s not married?”

  “Recently divorced.”

  Susan had the first piece of information that backed up her dream,
or her trip into the afterlife, or whatever she experienced.

  “I gotta say that I can’t blame ‘em,” Edna continued. “He’s a good catch—handsome, rich, and the kindest man I ever met.” She gazed out the window and shook her head. “But if he’s half as smart as I think he is, he’ll stay single…less problems that way.”

  “Any idea why they divorced?”

  Edna chewed on her bottom lip and gave Susan a studied look. “You some kind of detective or something?”

  Susan laughed. “Nope, just nosy.”

  “So, what do you do?”

  “I’m Susan Griffin. I own a store in Palmetto. Maybe you’ve heard of it, the Bawdy Boutique.”

  Edna lowered her head, stared over her half-rim glasses, and exhaled a whistle. “Who hasn’t?”

  She glanced toward the door as if to make sure no one was listening. “I’ve been tempted to go in and see what you have in there. I’d like to find something to surprise my husband, maybe get a fire burning in the bedroom again.”

  “Then by all means, do stop by. If the Bawdy Boutique doesn’t have what you’re looking for, it doesn’t exist. Ask for me or my assistant, A. K., and I’ll see that you get a discount.”

  “A discount, huh? That would be nice.” She leaned closer to the bed and lowered her voice. “I know for a fact when Doctor Evans is not on call, he likes to stop by Tilly’s Diner for coffee and donuts on Sunday morning.” Edna pushed her bucket toward the door. “You have a nice day, now,” she said, giving Susan a wink.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, Susan was dressed and sitting in the chair when A. K. waltzed into the room wearing a black, V-neck Jersey shift, just the thing to show her abundance of cleavage. A pair of open-toed high heels with an ankle strap matched beautifully and screamed femininity.

  “Love it,” Susan said, eyeing her friend with envy from head to toe. “I can’t wait to get a bath and into some sassy clothes. I’m a down-home girl, but my hallmark is fashion, not jogging suits.”

  “Let me check with the nurses’ station,” A. K. said, “and find out when we can get out of here. I’ll be right back.”

  “I should be good to go. I’ve passed the bathroom test.”

  A. K. returned in less than a minute. “You’re not going to believe this. The doctor hasn’t given his release, and he’s been called into emergency surgery. Looks like we’re stuck here a while longer.”

  “Bummer. I’d better let Mom and Dad know that we’re going to be late.”

  Late was an understatement. It was four o’clock by the time they got the okay from the doctor.

  “Hooray,” A. K. said. “Let’s get out of here while the getting is good. I’ll let the nurse know I’m going to pull the car around front.” She picked up the overnight bag from the bed and handed Susan her discharge papers. “Do we need to stop by the drug store for any prescriptions?”

  “Yes, for the antibiotic ointment. If I have a headache, I’m to take Tylenol, which I have plenty of at home.”

  Ten minutes later, Susan dutifully climbed into the wheelchair and let the nurse push her to the main entrance where A. K.’s red, 2008 Ford Mustang set idling. Before transferring to the car, she thanked the nurse for all her help, which amounted to disturbing her half the night. Be nice, she told herself. One day you might find yourself back here and at her mercy.

  Once they buckled up, A. K. revved up the engine.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Nice and easy. I don’t intend to jar anything loose.”

  “Yes, mother,” A. K. said and crept around the circular drive in front of the hospital.

  However, as they drove down the highway toward Palmetto, A. K.’s foot got a little heavy, and the speedometer inched up and over the speed limit. Before Susan could say anything, flashing lights and a siren forced A. K. to rein in the Mustang. She pulled over on the shoulder and reached in the glove compartment for the proper papers.

  “Just my luck.”

  Susan started to say something but thought better of it.

  A young officer, who appeared to be in his early twenties, approached the car. “License, registration, and proof of insurance,” he said, looking into the opened window. “Do you mind popping the trunk?”

  “Whatever for?” A. K. asked.

  “Is there a reason not to?”

  “Of course not.”

  A. K. did as requested. She took her license out of her wallet, put it with the other papers, and handed them through the window.

  When the deputy walked to the back of Mustang, Susan glanced in the side mirror and noticed a dark sedan pull in behind the marked unit. A man wearing dark blue slacks, a white shirt, and a light blue tie, joined the deputy. She couldn’t make out their conversation, but she recognized the man. Wesley Grissom, her real reason for coming home. While she shared most things with A. K., Wesley was one part of her life she kept to herself.

  Wesley removed his sunglasses and gave the Mustang a second look. Susan’s heart thumped against her chest. Wow, he was still good looking. While this was not how she had planned their reunion, she’d take it. He had the same broad shoulders, thick chest, and a certain swagger when he walked. His sandy hair fell across his brow. His physique, especially his angular jawline, had always reminded her of the musclemen characters in comic books, only he was the real thing. He nodded as the talked with the patrolman.

  After a short conversation, Wesley turned to walk away. Susan opened her door and stepped out the car. “Wesley? It’s Susan.”

  He cocked his head to one side and gave her the once-over. “Well, I’ll be.” They met each other at the back of the Mustang. His outstretched arms pulled her into a bear hug. “Hmm, you sure look good.”

  “You, too. How long has it been?”

  “Too long. When I got back from overseas, you had left town. I was hoping you might be around, but…”

  One look into those hazel eyes, and it was yesterday all over again. She was a cheerleader, and he was the star fullback, but Iraq changed everything. After graduation, he enlisted in the Marines, said it was his duty to serve his country.

  She didn’t fault him for that, but if they’d had more time together, she was sure their relationship would have developed into something lasting. If he’d have asked, she would have been willing to wait, but he hadn’t. He’d said the future was too uncertain, and that he didn’t want her to put her life on hold. She knew the truth was he was afraid he wouldn’t make it back. Better to end it before he left.

  “I heard you moved back and opened a specialty shop in Palmetto. I’ve been meaning to stop by.” His lips spread into a sheepish grin. “Don’t imagine you carry anything in my size.”

  “Not hardly.”

  Thick lashes shadowed his eyes, and his deep voice soothed her apprehension about meeting him this way.

  “I watched you pull in behind us then talk with the officer. Do you work with him?”

  “I’m a detective with the sheriff’s office. We’re not a big outfit, so we work more than one crime. I’ve covered burglaries, drugs, and homicides. When I saw the open trunk, I thought it might be a drug bust and stopped to see if I could assist.” He turned to the deputy. “You didn’t find anything, did you?”

  “No, sir. We got a tip that a red Mustang might be hauling a load of Oxycodone, but the vehicle is clean. The driver was over the speed limit, though. Maybe I’ll give her a warning this time.”

  “Don’t let me stop you, and don’t let my friendship with one of the occupants influence you, either.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  While the officer lectured A. K. on the dangers of speeding, Susan turned to Wesley. “When you have time, I’d like for us to get together. We have lots of catching up to do, and I need your advice about something.”

  “I’m off day after tomorrow. Swing by the old home place, and we’ll talk.”

  “Is nine o’clock too early?”

  “It used to be, but the military changed my r
outine. I’m up before daylight. If I don’t answer the doorbell, check the barn. More than likely, I’ll be working on a project.”

  Back in the car, A. K. nudged Susan. “I think your friendship with the other guy influenced the deputy. He only gave me a warning. Thank goodness. I can’t afford another ticket. My monthly insurance premiums are almost as much as my car note. How come you never mentioned that guy? What’s with him?” she asked, as she pulled back onto the highway.

  “We were high school sweethearts who went separate ways. That was long time ago, but after talking with him, it seemed like yesterday.”

  Susan lied. To her it was still a lifetime ago. While her mind understood his reasoning for ending their relationship, her heart didn’t. After he left, it took a long time before she dated again, and she never could get serious about anyone.

  Susan avoided eye contact with A. K., afraid her friend might see more than she was willing to disclose. “Wesley might just be the person to help us, if only I can convince him.”

  “The way he looked at you, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.” A. K. laughed.

  Susan pushed back hard into her seat. What she saw wasn’t just the road ahead. It was in her mind. “Stop! Pull over! Now!”

  “What? Why?”

  When Susan reached for the steering wheel, A. K. slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. “Are you crazy? What’s going—”

  The roar of a car and a flash of red sped across the highway, inches in front of them. The driver came from a side street and never even stopped.

  “Holy Moley! We could have been killed. How did you know?”

  Tears spilled from Susan’s eyes. “I…I can’t explain it.”