Corpse Suzette

sister.
    Savannah took her hand out
of her raincoat and held it out to the woman. “My name is Savannah Reid,” she
told her. “I’m investigating your sister’s disappearance with Sergeant Coulter.
He asked me to drop by over here and check a couple of things. I hope I’m not
disturbing you.”
    “I’m Clare Du Bois,” the
woman replied, accepting Savannah’s outstretched hand and giving it a brief
shake. “No, you aren’t disturbing me. I was just...” Her voice broke as she
waved a hand toward the living room. “...looking at some family pictures.”
    “I’m so sorry... about your
sister,” Savannah said, avoiding the customary words for your loss. Her
loss wasn’t exactly established just yet, although Savannah figured it was
probably only a matter of time.
    Clare’s eyes misted with
tears, and she nodded graciously. “Thank you. I’m sure she’ll turn up, but it’s
hard waiting.”
    “I’m sure it must be just
awful.” Savannah thought of her own sisters in Georgia. While some of them
could be a major ache in the rump from time to time, she would be beside
herself if any of them went missing for any length of time. “Is there anything
I can do for you?”
    “Just find her for me.”
    “We’re trying. Really, we
are.”
    Clare turned and walked
back into the living room. Savannah followed her.
    She noticed that the
clutter on the coffee table had been swept aside and several photo albums were
lying open on it.
    It occurred to her that,
under the circumstances, she might be able to get more out of Suzette’s sister
than Dirk had been able to do earlier. There was nothing quite like old family
photos to open the memory floodgates.
    “May I sit with you for a
moment?” Savannah asked her. “I’m tired myself, after the funeral today, what
with the rain and all. You must be exhausted.”
    “I am,” Clare said. “I hate
funerals. Even if I’m not all that...” Her voice trailed away as though she had
reconsidered the wisdom of such candor. She sat down on the sofa and crossed
her hands demurely in her lap.
    Savannah took a moment to
glance over the woman, taking in her expensive and beautifully tailored suit. A
cream-colored wool, it set off her blond hair and ivory skin to perfection. Her
jewelry was one simple gold circle pin and button earrings. She wore an
enormous diamond ring, but it was on her right hand. Her left was bare.
    She was a pretty woman,
probably in her late forties, which would have made her a few years older than
Suzette. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and Savannah wondered if
the tears had been for Sergio or Suzette or both.
    Savannah searched her face
for any resemblance to either the Marilyn-Monroe-look-alike photo she had seen
in the bedroom or DMV photo of Suzette that Dirk had shown her. The basic
facial structure was the same: high cheekbones, a strong yet feminine jawline.
But there, the similarities ended.
    “May I get you a glass of
water?” Savannah asked. “Or maybe make you a cup of coffee or tea?”
    Clare shook her head. “No,
thank you. I wouldn’t ask anyone to go into that kitchen. My sister, she’s a
wonderful person, but housekeeping has never been her forte. I was going to
clean it up, but I started looking at these...” she pointed to the photo
albums, “…and I got waylaid.”
    “It’s probably just as
well,” Savannah said. “I think Detective Coulter would prefer if we just leave
things as they are, for the time being.”
    Clare’s eyes widened. “Oh,
it’s okay that I came in, isn’t it? There wasn’t any of that yellow tape the
police use across the door, saying I shouldn’t.”
    “No, it isn’t cordoned
off,” Savannah said. “There’s no evidence that it’s a crime scene.” At the
moment, she added silently. “So, if it’s all right with your sister that
you’re in her house, it’s okay with him, I’m sure.”
    Clare looked even sadder.
“I don’t know if it’s all right with her or not. I know where she keeps her
extra key... under the big brown rock in the petunia bed, but I don’t know if
I’m really welcome to be here or not.”
    Savannah nodded. “Detective
Coulter mentioned that the two of you have been estranged for a while.”
    “It’s been a little over a
year now since I saw her,” Clare said. She reached over and picked up the
largest of the albums. Taking out one of the snapshots, she looked at it with a
sweet, sad, loving expression on her face. “I miss her.