Corpse Suzette

back from the road, a wide driveway
took the visitors to an elegant, contemporary facade. An asymmetrical
arrangement of rose-colored granite walls and brass-trimmed windows and doors
set with copper-tinted glass, the establishment exuded both modern
sophistication and warmth.
    The word “Emerge” and a
simple butterfly were displayed in brass over the wide, double front doors.
Savannah drove into a parking area to the right and behind the building, where
she found Dirk, sitting in his Buick and waiting for her.
    She glanced at her watch.
It was two minutes past nine.
    She was late. Two whole
minutes. Mr. Fidget Britches would be having a hissy.
    He glowered as he saw her
approach the car and tapped a finger on the dial of his wristwatch.
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she
said, casually opening the passenger door and climbing inside. “Get over
yourself. Like your schedule’s any more important than anybody else’s.”
    She reached into her
oversized purse, pulled out a wad of aluminum foil, and tossed it into his lap.
    “What’s this?” he asked,
brightening instantly.
    “Biscuits. Still warm from
the oven.”
    “Wow, Van, thanks!” He dug
in immediately, ripping away the foil. “Did you butter them?”
    “Of course.”
    “Peach jam?”
    “Yes, shut up and eat.”
    He bit into one and groaned
in gluttonous, orgiastic pleasure. “Oh, man, that is heaven,” he said. “Pure
heaven. I forgive you for being late.”
    She sniffed. “That’s big of
you.”
    He glanced over toward her
bag. “Where’s the coffee?”
    “What?”
    “You brought me biscuits
and no coffee ?”
    “I figured you’d have your
own.”
    His smile evaporated. His
shoulders slumped. “Well, I guess I can just gag them down without—”
    She snatched the foil out
of his lap. “Forget about it! I do something nice for you and you bellyache
about it?”
    “Gimme those biscuits,
woman, before I fly into a blind rage!” She laughed and handed them back. “Did
you get over to Toscano’s yet?”
    “Yeah. Nobody was there but
the cleaning crew, but they let me in. I looked at their reservation book.
There was a one-thirty entry for a ‘Lawrence.’ The other names were marked
through, but Lawrence wasn’t. I figure that’s because they didn’t show.”
    “Likely. But does Du Bois
know a Lawrence?”
    He shrugged. “Don’t know.
But I’ll keep my eyes open for a Larry. How was our girl Abigail this morning?”
    “Testy after she got the
phone call from Myrna, Emerge’s receptionist, this morning. She told Abigail
that not only was the press conference cancelled, but the whole kit and
caboodle has been put on hold for the time being.”
    “That Abigail’s up to
something, I’m telling you. There’s just something sneaky about her.”
    “Yeah, I think so, too. But
‘sneaky’ is a long way from kidnapping or murder.”
    “Did you say anything to
Tammy?”
    “Over breakfast we discussed
the fact that Suzette Du Bois is missing, but of course I didn’t mention that
we were wondering about Abigail. You don’t seriously think she’s done
anything... you know... like that, do you?”
    Dirk brushed the biscuit
crumbs off the front of his shirt and back onto the foil. “Naw. I can’t see her
doing anything drastic. But she’s up to no good of some kind. You wait and
see.”
    As they left the car and
walked to the front door of the building, Savannah thought of Tammy, so kind
and well-intentioned. The young woman didn’t have an evil or even cranky bone
in her body. It was hard to imagine that she and crabby Abigail were even
related. Savannah couldn’t bear the thought that Abigail intended to cause any
serious trouble that would bring grief to Tammy, who had only intended to
benefit her cousin.
    “Whatever’s gone wrong
here,” Savannah said, “I’m sure it has nothing to do with Abigail.”
    “We’ll see,” Dirk replied.
    He opened the front door
and held it as Savannah passed through. Savannah liked that about Dirk. He
opened doors for women, even in this day and age, and he preferred his ladies
well-cushioned —his term, not hers—in all the right places. You could
forgive a guy for a lot—cheapness, impatience, and occasional indelicacies—in
exchange for opened doors and comments like, “Eh, she’s too skinny for my
taste. Looks like she needs a few cheeseburgers and milkshakes.”
    But the moment Savannah
stepped inside, she forgot all about Dirk’s virtues—both of them—as she felt
herself