Corpse Suzette by G. A. McKevett

gave us a tour of the place.” Tammy brightened and opened her mouth.
Savannah gave her another look, and she snapped it closed.
    “I’m sure the rest of the
place was ‘neat’, too,” Savannah whispered. “But Dirk’s just not that big on
décor.”
    “Gotcha,” Tammy whispered
back.
    “How long did the tour
take?” Dirk wanted to know.
    Abigail shrugged and looked
at Tammy. “I don’t remember exactly. Maybe an hour?”
    Tammy nodded. “That’s about
right.”
    “And then?” Dirk asked,
scribbling on a small notepad he had taken from his inside jacket pocket.
    “And then I left,” Tammy
interjected.
    “Good.” He gave her an
irritated glance, then turned his attention back to Abigail. “But you stayed?”
    “Yeah. A nurse took several
vials of blood from me. They weighed and measured me. All of that sucked.”
    “I’m sure it did,” he
replied.
    “But after that, it was
sorta nice. They gave me a pretty good lunch and served it outside on a patio.
And Jeremy ate with me.” Savannah watched as Abigail’s face changed at the
mention of the style consultant’s name. She looked quite pretty when she
smiled. Her eyes had a dreamy quality, and as Savannah recalled Jeremy Lawrence’s
handsome features and quiet charm, she couldn’t really blame Abby.
    “Jeremy?” Dirk asked. “You
mean Jeremy Lawrence, the hairdresser?”
    “Yes, but he’s not a
hairdresser,” Abigail replied. “He’s a stylist; a person who helps you find the
best ways to express who you really are inside through the way you dress, act,
decorate... all kinds of things like that.”
    “Yeah, whatever.” Dirk kept
scribbling.
    Abigail bristled. “No, not whatever !
Jeremy Lawrence is a really classy, special person. He treated me with dignity
and respect. We talked for more than two hours about me , about what I like, about what I want from my life, about how I would like the
world to perceive me. We talked about clothes, among a lot of other things, and
the whole time he was making suggestions and giving me advice. But he never
once said anything like, ‘Wear this because it will make you look less fat’ or
‘Big women shouldn’t dress like this because it makes them look even bigger.’
He didn’t even mention my size.”
    She paused to take a breath
from her outburst, and a heavy silence hung in the room.
    Savannah broke it by
placing a pitcher of lemonade on the table. “I talked to him, too, and he
seemed like a very intelligent, charming person.”
    “Eh, he looked gay to me,”
Dirk said with a sniff.
    Savannah’s nostrils flared,
but she kept her tone even when she replied, “Now, Dirk... you think that everyone who’s intelligent and charming is gay. So, we can’t go by you.”
    “I don’t think he’s gay,”
Abigail added. “He told me that I’m a beautiful woman and that he was going to
help me find new ways to reveal that to the world. And he had a certain gleam
of interest in his eyes when he said it. I think he likes me.”
    “Yeah, okay,” Dirk replied.
“So we’ve established that Jeremy Lawrence is a peach. A straight peach. What
else?”
    “Then that Myrna gal showed
up and said that since Dr. Du Bois still hadn’t shown up, I could just hang out
there at the spa for the afternoon. Get a massage, a facial, manicure and
pedicure... stuff like that.”
    “And did you?”
    “I skipped the massage and
went for the rest.”
    “Then you came back here?”
    Abigail glanced away,
hesitated a moment, then said, “Well, not straight back here. I took a cab
downtown and walked around a little. Looked in some of the antique shops and
boutiques. Then I took a stroll on the boardwalk and had dinner at one of the
restaurants there.”
    “Which one?”
    “What do you mean ‘which
one’? I thought you wanted to know if I could give you any new leads on what
happened to Dr. Du Bois, but you’re actually checking me out here.
You’re trying to see if I have an alibi.”
    Savannah stuck a