Corpse Suzette

restraints.
     
    The next morning, Savannah,
Tammy, and Dirk were sitting at the picnic table in Savannah’s backyard, eating
a lunch of fried bologna sandwiches and potato salad that Savannah had fixed
for them. At least, Savannah and Dirk were eating it. As usual, Tammy had
brought a healthier selection of her own, a Tupper-ware container full of
salad.
    “I swear, I never saw a
body do a turnaround like that so fast in all my life,” Savannah said,
spreading mustard thickly on a slice of bread. “Last night Abigail was madder
than a wet hen, squawking about how degrading the very idea of a makeover was.
And today, she comes downstairs to the breakfast table, sunshine and light, and
says she’s rarin’ to go!”
    Tammy beamed. “I know! I
can’t believe it myself, but she couldn’t wait for me to take her over to
Emerge and get her started. You should have seen the fuss the staff was making
over her, TV cameras and news crews everywhere. Abby was eating up all the
attention.”
    Dirk took a swig of
lemonade and cleared his throat. “Sounds suspicious to me. She’s up to
something.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I think,
too,” Savannah added. “I saw a gleam in her eye that my nephew gets right
before he pulls the tail off a lizard.”
    “Don’t say that.” Tammy
winced.
    “Sorry, but I think that
kid’s a budding serial killer. Vidalia had better get her bluff in on him
before he gets much older or—”
    “No,” Tammy said, “I mean
don’t say that about Abigail. Have a little faith, will you two?”
    “In what?” Dirk wanted to
know.
    “Humanity.”
    He grunted. “That’ll be the
day. I’m a cop, remember? I see every day what ‘humanity’ is up to. And it
ain’t pretty.”
    Tammy Sunshine shook her
head in disgust. “Not everybody is up to something. Some people are good
and kind and—”
    “Only the ones who are
afraid of getting caught and punished.” He gave her a nasty little smirk.
“That’s where I come in. I keep the regular folks honest.”
    Savannah chuckled. “Oh,
yes, Dirk. That’s it. Everybody in society is law-abiding because Dirk Coulter
is on duty. We live in fear. We tremble in—”
    “Yeah, yeah, enough
already.” He held out his glass. “Gimme some more of that lemonade and mark my
words: She’s up to something. It’s just a matter of time until we find out
what.”
     
    In less than forty-eight
hours, around nine in the evening, Savannah got the phone call. She was sitting
in her favorite chair, her feet on the ottoman, a cup of double-fudge hot
chocolate on her side table, a romance novel open on her lap, and a cat on
either side of her feet—kitty foot warmers, she liked to call them.
    Dirk’s surly voice barked
at her through the phone. “Where is that houseguest of yours?” he asked without
preamble.
    “She went to bed an hour
ago. Why?”
    “How did she seem?”
    “Seem?”
    “Yeah, you know, her mood.
Was she grouchy, grumpy?”
    “Not particularly. Not
Sneezy or Bashful, either. She spent the day there at Emerge, getting her blood
work done and other things to get ready for her surgeries. They’ve scheduled
her liposuction for the day after tomorrow. She seemed a little tired... wanted
to go to bed early. What’s this about?”
    “I just caught a case.”
    “What is it?”
    “Missing person.”
    “What’s this got to do with
me?” she said, glancing down at her half-read romance novel. In the last
chapter, the virgin heroine had finally trusted the swashbuckling hero enough
to take a moonlight sail on his ship. He had “trusted” her right back... very
nicely, and in graphic, steamy detail. So well, in fact, that Savannah
suspected the newly deflowered lady would allow him to trust her in the next
chapter, too.
    Something to look forward
to.
    Dirk’s timing had always
left a lot to be desired.
    “It’s Suzette Du Bois who’s
gone missing,” he said. “The plastic surgeon who’s supposed to operate on your
girl there. The one who owns the joint where she’s—”
    “You’re kidding! When?”
    “Last night was the last
time anybody saw her. She didn’t show up at the clinic this morning. Didn’t
Abigail mention it to you? Apparently, everybody there was talking about it.”
    Savannah glanced at the
staircase and wondered about her houseguest upstairs. Now that she thought
about it, maybe Abigail had seemed a little weird tonight. But then, with
Abigail, who could really tell?
    “Where are you?” she asked.
    “On