Melba looked at the size indicator hanging on the rack. “Moon, I don’t think these will work. I haven’t worn that size in a few years.”
“Detective, well-made, beautifully constructed clothing is quite different in fit compared to the more pedestrian clothing found in so many plebeian places these days. Try a few things and see. I think you’ll be surprised. If not, we can move to another section.”
Doubting her chances for success, Melba flipped through the clothing. She pulled out a few things which might help expand her current wardrobe and held them up to see them better in the light.
Moon hurried from her place by the counter shaking her head emphatically. “No, Detective, those will not do. The fabric although wonderful, is not in the colors your complexion demands. They’ll wash you out completely, not make you glow like the beautiful, successful woman you are.”
“But these are…”
“Very similar to other things already in your closet, Detective Reightman,” said a voice Melba recognized immediately. She turned to greet Madame Zhou as the lady made her way into the store.
“Good afternoon, Madame Zhou,” Moon fluttered forward. “Have you come to examine something new and exquisite today?”
“Unfortunately not, Moon. I had a quite astonishing shopping expedition yesterday and must wait until next week if I’m to remain disciplined. I saw the Detective enter the store earlier, and my curiosity led me here to see what she might be shopping for today.”
“She is shopping for herself today, Madame, but I fear she has selected some items which will not enhance her countenance as splendidly as wonderful clothing should. I’m almost overcome with despair.”
Melba was starting to feel like they were ganging up on her, so she held up the garments in her hand and explained. “I thought these would expand the current things in my closet and allow me to –I don’t know – mix things up some.” She laid the draped the items over the rack as Zhou Li approached.
The small elderly lady peered closely at the selection, occasionally feeling the fabric with the palm of her delicate hand. “You have an excellent sense of good fabric, Detective,” she said approvingly. When Melba smiled at the compliment, she added, “However, your sense of color and cut is not so inspired.”
“But I thought–” Melba stopped mid-sentence when Zhou Li placed a gentle hand on her arm.
“There is nothing at all wrong with your usual clothing, Detective. However, I think you deserve a few special things to brighten your everyday black, navy and brown. In addition, I suspect there are many clever examples of European tailoring which, when added to your existing wardrobe, might transform your everyday things into something a bit more polished.” When Melba failed to respond, Zhou Li added cajolingly, "What can it harm to try something different? Moon will not steer you wrong, I promise. If she does, I will personally acquire these,” she indicated the draped clothing, “and present them to you as a gift.” She studied Melba’s face. “It’s a win/win situation.”
“Madame Zhou, I’m happy to try on whatever Moon suggests, but I wouldn’t allow you to purchase any of this clothing for me, as crafty an offer as it is. I recognize your approach, you know. I used the same tactics on my daughter often enough!”
Zhou Li grinned in appreciation of Reightman’s partial capitulation, and waved her tiny hand. “As you will, Detective.”
Moon hurried forward and removed the draped garments and laid them to the side. She then rapidly worked her way through the remaining selection, pulling out three blouses, a few pairs of slacks and two jackets. “We will start our consideration with these. Please follow me. The dressing rooms are near the back.”
As Melba followed, trailed by Zhou, she wondered what she was getting herself into with this hijacked shopping expedition. Considering the opposition aligned against her, she resigned herself to the fact she wouldn’t be taking the original garments home. “I might as well just accept my grim fate.” Moon showed her into the first dressing room and hung the items on a series of hooks placed within easy reach. She considered the choices Moon had carefully placed on the hooks in groupings, and was glad none of the items were too bright or too boldly patterned. “In fact,” she conceded, “they’re all good choices, just different from what I’d normally wear.” Melba undressed and then pulled on the first pair of tailored trousers, nonplussed that Moon had been correct in her assessment of the appropriate size. The trousers even had pockets. She bent her legs and then stood before reaching down to touch her toes, testing if she could move in them. She pulled on the blouse Moon had coordinated with the trousers and found it was actually a tiny bit too large. “Hmmm, maybe good clothing is different.” She took a jacket off of a hanger and slipped it on while looking in the mirror. Her jaw dropped open.
“Do you need my expert and entirely sophisticated help with anything?” Moon asked from outside the door.
“No, I’m doing fine,” she answered, still enthralled with her reflection.
“Since that is the case, Madame Zhou requests you kindly come forth so she may examine the magnificence of the selections.”
She opened the door and stepped out. Moon led her to the small sitting area where Zhou was ensconced like a benevolent queen surveying her domain. Melba stood for inspection, feeling uncomfortable and self-conscious as the two women surveyed her critically.
“Please stand up straight, Detective. I’ve never seen you slouch until now.” Melba straightened her spine and glared down at the imperious old woman, who laughed delightedly. “That’s much better.” Zhou Li glanced at Moon who nodded her head.
“What do you feel concerning the appropriateness of this beautiful ensemble, Detective Reightman?’
“I like it, Moon.”
The proprietress shook her head, causing her dramatic hair to sway slightly. “That is not exactly what I meant. Let me rephrase, please.” She looked straight at Melba and asked, “How, or what, do you feel while wearing those clothes?”
Melba had never been asked that sort of question before. She wrinkled her brow, trying to decide what she felt. It was an unusual exercise to say the least. “I feel strong and confident, but also attractive and well dressed. I feel like I’m ready for about anything.”
Moon looked at Zhou, who inclined her head. “That being the case, I would say you should purchase this specific selection.”
Melba worried over her very meager clothing allowance and finally decided it would stretch a little.
The process was repeated a few times more, with one blouse making her feel fussy, and one pair of trousers proving to be an excellent fit, but too trendy for work. Moon carried the approved garments up to the counter and prepared to add the total. “A dress perhaps, Detective?”
“No, I’d never live down wearing a dress to work," she said with a small snort. “Jackson would give me all kinds of grief, and one of us would have to be dead and buried before I’d chance that scenario.” Moon gave her a disappointed pout, so Melba quickly added, “When I need a dress for a special occasion, I promise I’ll ask you both to help me to select the perfect one.” Moon arranged her face in a pleased smile and bent to collect prices off of tags.
“Could you let me see the total before finalizing everything, Moon? I need to make sure I’m not overextending my non-existent shopping budget.”
Moon agreed and Melba turned to talk with Zhou Li about her lunch at Earth Fruits. A short while later Moon handed her a slip of paper for her “consideration, adjustment or approval.” She winced. The total was not nearly as large as she’d expected, just larger than she’d hoped. After giving it more thought and remembering how she’d felt wearing the garments, she decided to take them all. She smiled and handed Moon her credit card.
She was struggling to hang her loot on the small hook in the backseat when her phone rang. Struggling with both the hanging bags and her purse, she finally grabbed the phone and managed to answer before the caller went to voicemail.
“Hello,
” she answered, “this is Detective Melba Reightman.”
“Hello, Detective. I’m returning your call from earlier today.” Toby sounded odd and distant.
“Hi, Toby. I’m right outside the spa. Would it be convenient for you to meet?”
“I can meet, but not at the spa. Not today, please.”
“Is something wrong?”
He hesitated, and then answered, “Just a rough day.” After another hesitation, he suggested, “Why don’t we meet here at my apartment? I’ll meet you downstairs on the sidewalk out front.”
“I’m not sure, Toby,” she replied while thinking about Sam’s worry that she was becoming too close to this young man. She needed to rebuild some distance. “I think it would be better to meet here.”
“I can’t,” he told her, with weariness in his voice. “Not today. Please.”
He sounded exhausted and upset, and against her better judgement, she felt the urge to help however she could. “Okay. I’ll meet you over there.” She hung up the phone wondering what had gone wrong with Toby’s day. She locked the car and headed across the street.
At about the same time she stepped on the sidewalk, Toby stepped off of the lowest step coming from the stairwell. “It’s just up here – a couple of flights straight up.” Once at the top, he opened the door and ushered her into his apartment.
She stepped into the room. “It suits him perfectly,” she decided as she looked over the décor and glanced through the French doors that opened onto the terrace.
“Just take a seat anywhere in the living room while I fix us a couple of glasses of iced tea.”
“Please, don’t go to any trouble. I can’t stay very long.”
“It’s not any trouble at all. It’s already made.”
She took a seat on the edge of a sofa and less than a minute later he walked over and handed her a glass of tea. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip before placing it on a coaster at the edge of the coffee table. “The reason I called is, I have some news.”
He took a seat on the chair which was angled slightly toward and nodded before taking a drink from his own glass.
“The acting coroner will release Mr. Guzman’s body first thing in the morning, Toby.”
He sat silently as he gazed down into his glass then placed it on the table. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’ll make arrangements for it to be picked up by the funeral home and transported for burial.”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
His despondent tone worried her. “Are you okay?” When he didn’t answer she tried a different tact. “You’re very subdued today.” When he failed to answer her for the second time, she tried a more direct approach. “Toby, I know you’re grieving, but this isn’t like you.”
“I’m sorry. I told you I’ve had an upsetting day. I went to pack up Geri’s apartment and I guess it was just too much.” He picked up his glass, but set it down before drinking. “You’re right, I am grieving. I’m just not sure what I’m grieving for right now.” He picked up the glass again and took a deep swallow before looking at her. “You said there was something else?”
“Yes.” She decided just to barrel through. “Toby, this might be hard to hear, but I decided you need to know.” She proceeded to tell him about the things done to Geri’s body by Lieberman, and that the missing piece couldn’t be located. When she finished, she was reluctant to meet his eyes.
“Did I hear you correctly, Detective? He – he circumcised him?”
“Yes.”
He stood and walked to the French doors. For a moment he looked out onto the terrace. “How could someone do that?” he whispered.
“Toby, you have every right to be angry and perhaps even to take legal action against the city and the department.”
He whirled around to face her. “Would that help, Detective? Would it return that… piece of flesh to me so I could have it buried with him?” He walked toward her, his anger and hurt clear to see. “Would hiring Madame Zhou to sue this city for every nickel I could get make me feel better?” He stopped abruptly behind the chair, and gripped its upholstered back tightly. “Maybe I would feel better,” he told her once he had his emotions under control. “Maybe I should make myself rich off of this act committed by some evil, criminal man, but...I don’t think I will.”
“Toby, that is very…” she struggled to find the right word.
“Kind? Generous? Charitable, forgiving, or Christian of me?” he asked mockingly. “Pick a word. I can’t. Not today.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but could sense something running just underneath his surface. “I’ve never seen him in this mood.”
“There isn’t anything for you to say, at least not today.” He walked over to where she sat on the sofa and took a seat beside her with his hands folded loosely in his lap. He tucked one bare foot up underneath him. “Let me tell you what I know, not you as the Detective, but as the woman I’ve started to think of as a friend.” When she didn’t respond, except to hold his eyes, he continued. “Look around this room," he directed, watching her face as she did. “Almost every item in this room, and in the kitchen, and in the bathroom and in the bedroom is new, at least to me.” She turned her confused eyes to his, and waited for him to explain. “Six months ago when I walked out of the apartment I shared for many years with Geri, I only took four things with me. I took my clothes. I took some photographs that were important to me, and I took the dishes my Grams gave me when we moved in.”
“You said four things, Toby,” she quietly reminded him.
“Yes, I did. The fourth thing I took with me was…my pride.” She watched his very still and expressionless face. “It would have been better,” he continued, “if I had left my pride there in that apartment, and had brought Geri with me instead. I should have forced him to come, however I could.” He looked at her with his eyes, the dark rings around the pupils very stark against his face. “A piece of flesh in a coffin or a million dollars in the bank won’t reverse the choices I made then, no matter what I feel, or don’t feel, right now. That’s what I’m telling the woman who might be a friend.” He studied her a moment and sat up straighter on the sofa. He firmed his jaw and his eyes blazed with burning intensity. “Now, I’m speaking to the Detective. There’s only one thing that matters now.” He waited. “Do you know what it is?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then tell me.”
“The only thing that matters now is finding the person or persons who murdered Gerald Guzman and bringing them to justice.”
He held her eyes for a minute more, and then unfolded himself from the sofa and rose to his feet. “Got it in one, Detective. You got it in one.”
As she drove back to the station, she thought of nothing but his pale, blue eyes, rimmed in black.
♦♦♦
Christina Dameron hurried to finish dressing for dinner. The sitter would arrive shortly and she didn’t want to keep Sutton waiting. He’d probably worn a hole in the carpet with his anxious pacing. She reached behind her to fasten the clasp of a large diamond solitaire necklace and looked in the mirror. She regarded her tired eyes and wondered if a more vivid lipstick might distract from the lines of strain at their corners. She shrugged at her reflection and decided she didn’t even care. She walked out of her bedroom and down the entryway stairs.
Sutton looked up as she descended, but didn’t comment on her appearance. “Ready?”
“Yes. Is the sitter here?”
“She is,” he nodded, and opened the front door as she picked up her small purse. They walked down to the car and got in on their separate sides. As she buckled up, she considered their destination. Tonight they were dining, for the third time in six weeks, with the Reverend Brother Ephraim Sawyer and his wife, Marilyn.
Reverend Sawyer was the founder and CEO of the largest conservative evangelical church in the entire southeastern United States. He was also one of Sutton�
�s key supporters and the major financial contributor to the Dameron’s war chest.
Sutton turned off the main street out of their historic neighborhood onto the thoroughfare that would eventually become the interstate taking them north, toward the lake. After about twenty five minutes, he took the appropriate exit and moments later, turned into the gated residential neighborhood where the Sawyer’s twelve thousand square foot home was situated. He pulled the car into the circular driveway and parked. He then got out and made his way around to her side, and opened the door. “This evening is very important,” he reminded her as she stepped out onto the imported Italian stone paving the driveway.
“I’m aware of that, Sutton!” she snapped as he escorted her to the imposing front door.
He rang the doorbell and Christina could hear the resonant chimes sounding throughout the house. A moment later the Reverend himself answered the door. He was a tall thin man, with narrow lips that widened in what passed for a smile as he greeted them. “Sutton and Christina, how delightful for you to join us this evening.” Christina thought she might have misheard him, and then decided she hadn’t. He clearly felt it was a delight for them. He ushered them through the marbled foyer and down a few steps to the immense living room.
Marilyn rose from an antique couch positioned at one side of the room. She smiled in welcome and moved her lush, designer-clad self to take Sutton’s hand in one set of her bejeweled fingers, and Christina’s in the other. “I’m just so happy you two could join us tonight! It seems like it’s been ages since we had you out for dinner. Come into the family room and I’ll have my lazy husband whip us up some drinks.” Christina and Sutton expressed their combined pleasure at the invitation and followed their hostess.
The offer of a drink in the home of the founder of a very conservative church didn’t surprise Christina, She’d learned one basic truth of the South many years ago: everyone drank. The only questions were what, and whether they chose to hide it. With drinks in hand, they all made themselves comfortable on the big over-stuffed couches and chairs placed around a huge natural wood topped coffee table that was in turn, placed in front of a fireplace large enough to stand in.
Done Rubbed Out: Reightman & Bailey Book One Page 31