Corpse Suzette

stinkin’ drunk before suppertime.”
    “Like you?” he said,
sipping on his Pepsi.
    “I’m not drunk, I’ll have
you know, boy. I’m only barely buzzed, and after the week I’ve had, I think I
deserve it. So hush and order me another one of these... only with just half
the rum this time.”
    “Such self-control,” he
said, waving to the waitress. “I’m almost impressed.”
    “Yeah, well, I’ve had a rum
hangover before, and it wasn’t pretty. It was the morning after a bridal shower
where we sampled half a dozen kinds of daiquiris. I felt like I had a coonskin
cap on my tongue and a hive of angry wasps swarming around inside my head. I
had to eat a three pound box of Godiva chocolates just to get my blood sugar
level up to normal. But then, a self-controlled fellow like yourself wouldn’t
know about such things.”
    “I certainly wouldn’t. The
only thing that gives me a hangover is tequila.”
    “Yes, seems like I recall
you missing work a few May sixths in a row.”
    “What can I say? Cinco de
Mayo’s a rough one.” He grinned at her. “Hey, you want something to eat?”
    “Why? You buying me
dinner?”
    “Well, not exactly. I think
they’ve got some sort of appetizer things over there at the bar for free. I
could nab you a tray of them if you like.”
    “What a guy! Dirk, you
never fail to amaze me.”
    “Why, thank you.” He
flushed under the pseudo-compliment. He received so few, pseudo or otherwise.
“It wasn’t that much, really, just some free hors d’oeuvres.”
    “My point exactly.” She
took another sip of the sickeningly sweet drink and wondered why she had
ordered it. The Pink Squirrel at the last bar was much tastier. “What’s next?”
she asked him. “Where do we go from here?”
    “Like I said, I’m a fish
out of water here. Nobody pays any attention to my badge, and I’m probably not
allowed to wave a gun around and threaten them for information, so... I’m
stumped.” The waitress walked up to them and asked what they would like.
    “Something a little less
potent than that last drink,” Savannah said. “When I turn my head, it takes my
eyes five seconds to catch up, and that’s not a good sign.”
    “How about a virgin
seabreeze?” the waitress suggested. “What’s in it?”
    “Cranberry juice and
grapefruit juice.”
    “Sounds good. And another
Pepsi for my buddy.”
    Before the woman could walk
away, Savannah grabbed her by the sleeve. “By the way, you don’t happen to know
somebody here on the island who owns a BMW, do you? I’m in the market for one.”
    The waitress shook her
head. “There aren’t that many cars on the island. It’s expensive to have them
ferried over, plus there’s only one gas station and it charges a fortune for
just a gallon, so...” She disappeared into the throng.
    “Let’s forget about the BMW
for a minute,” Savannah said, “and concentrate on other things.”
    “Like what other things?”
he asked
    “Like why Suzette withdrew
three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars in cash from the bank. What on
earth could you spend that much money on at once?”
    “A fancy car.”
    “That’s a guy thing. A
chick wouldn’t pay that much for a car.”
    “How come you can call a
broad a ‘chick’ and I can’t?”
    “For the same reason you
can’t call a woman a ‘broad’ either.”
    “Huh?”
    “Think with me. What’s got
that sort of high price ticket... other than real estate.”
    They both looked at each
other and perked up.
    “She bought herself a
house,” Savannah said. “And paid cash for it.”
    “Or at least plunked down a
hefty down payment.”
    “She told the guys on the
boat—”
    “Catamaran.”
    “Whatever... that she was
moving here. Hence the boxes of stuff she brought with her.”
    “Maybe the person who
picked her up was a realtor. They tend to drive around in spiffy cars.”
    Savannah grabbed her cell
phone and called her house. Tammy answered. “Hi, babycakes,” Savannah said. “Go
online and see how many real estate agencies there are here on the island.
Yeah, I’ll wait.” She stirred the remainder of her piña colada and slurped the
sweet frothiness off the end of the umbrella handle. “Huh?” she said. “No,
we’re having a miserable time. You’d hate it. The music? I think it’s a bar
down the street. Yeah, I’m holding. Go ahead and look.”
    The waitress came over with
her seabreeze and Dirk’s Pepsi. “No, we haven’t had dinner. Didn’t even