Corpse Suzette

Suzette’s house and
Sergio’s condo. He’s brilliant, the brains behind the whole operation. And they
never gave him credit for it, not at all. And they ripped him off in the money
department, too. He’s probably going to start his own place, as soon as he
finds the backers and another surgeon, of course.”
    Savannah tried not to sound
too interested when she said, “Oh? Did he tell you all that himself?”
    “Most of it, and the rest I
read between the lines. He’s gotten a bum deal from those people. But with Suzette
missing and Sergio dead, maybe it’ll work out to his advantage in the end.”
    As Savannah continued her
dinner, she thought about the beautiful, brilliant young man who had gotten the
short end of a stick, or at least, thought he had. Just how bitter was he?
    She thought of Devon
Wright, who, for all her salesman-style cunning, didn’t seem to be all that
sharp. And the person who had made Suzette Du Bois disappear and had killed
Sergio D’Alessandro with nothing more than a tiny pin-prick of a mark on his
body... it wasn’t likely to be a dimwit.
    It had to be someone who
was relatively bright, not to mention resourceful.
    And when it came to
murder... “bitter” could be a potent ingredient, too.
    Maybe it was time to look
elsewhere.
    And even though Savannah had
instantly taken a liking to Jeremy Lawrence and had heard only good things
about the talented young man, perhaps it was time to look in his direction.

Chapter

12
     
     
     
    L ater that evening, Dirk
dropped by Savannah’s house with a small satchel under his arm. Savannah
ushered him inside and offered him a seat and a cold beer.
    “Nope, I’m sorta still
working,” he said as he collapsed wearily onto the sofa. He glanced into the kitchen
where Tammy and Abigail were sitting at the table, playing a game of cards.
    “Yeah, me, too.” Savannah
nodded toward a piece of foam core board she had propped next to her easy
chair. On the board was stuck a series of sticky post-it notes, some with names
written on them, some with dates.
    “Messing with that board of
yours, huh?” he said. “Got anything?”
    Savannah sat in her chair,
picked up the board and looked at it. “No. I’ve been shuffling these people,
places, and things all around, trying to make sense of this case. And so far,
I’ve got a whole lot of nothing.”
    “I hear you.” He leaned
closer, peering at the board. “I see you’ve got that ditzo Devon gal at the top
of your suspect list.”
    “At the moment, but I think
she’s about to get demoted.”
    “I never did take her that
seriously as a suspect. Too much of a fluff-head,” he said. “The only reason
you really considered her was because you didn’t like her personally.”
    “What gave you the idea I
didn’t like her?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know.
She’s just the sort of gal that women don’t like, so I figured you didn’t.”
    “And guys? Do they like a
woman like Devon Wright?”
    A lecherous little grin
appeared on his face. “Only for about ten or fifteen minutes.”
    “Ten or fifteen, huh?
Mmmm... a real Casanova.”
    “Hey, there’s something to
be said for efficiency.” He glanced back down at the board. “So, who takes her
place when she gets demoted?”
    Savannah looked into the
kitchen, but Tammy and Abby were deep in conversation over their cards. “I’m
thinking Jeremy, the stylist,” she whispered.
    “Oh really? Any special
reason?”
    “Just that Abby said he
sort of made Du Bois and D’Alessandro what they were and didn’t get enough
credit—or money— along the way. Apparently, he’s looking for investors and a
surgeon right now to open his own place.”
    “Okay, that’s good. I’ll
run a check on him and—”
    “Tammy already did.
Online.”
    He gave a little sniff.
“Boy, she’s quite the whiz kid these days. You don’t even need cops around
anymore, as long as you’ve got a computer and know how to use it. Which reminds
me...”
    He reached down and picked
up the black satchel, which he had placed on the floor. “I have a favor to
ask.” As he unzipped the case and reached inside, he nodded toward the kitchen
and whispered, “Doesn’t the kid there have her own apartment anymore? Seems
like ever since that grumpy cousin of hers came to town, she’s been practically
living here with you.”
    “I think she’s afraid to be
alone with her,” Savannah replied softly. “Strength in numbers and all that.
What’s that you’ve