Corpse Suzette Read Online Free PDF

onto one of the many
channels that interlaced this area. Around the rear corner of the house she
could see what appeared to be at least forty feet of dock and an ocean-worthy
sailboat.
    Not bad, she thought, looking over
the multilevel dwelling with its glistening white stucco walls and red-tiled
roof. That's what my little house is going to be when it grows up someday.
    But, ever-practical, she
reminded herself that she didn’t want a spread like this. The taxes alone would
be more than her mortgage, utilities, and Victoria’s Secret bill combined.
There’d be no money left over for bubble bath or Godiva chocolates. And a lady
had to keep her financial priorities in order.
    She considered pulling into
the driveway next to Dirk’s Buick, but decided instead to park on the street
and drip oil on public property.
    A late-model Mercedes sat
next to the Buick, and she saw no radio cars, ambulances, or medical examiner’s
wagon. No yellow tape across the door. Apparently Dirk hadn’t found anything
too alarming. Yet.
    Most likely, there was a
perfectly good reason that the doctor was missing. Most people disappeared,
temporarily or permanently, of their own accord. Although, not usually wealthy,
successful, well-rooted types like Dr. Du Bois. From the look of her real
estate, Suzette Du Bois had spent a lot of time and money establishing herself
in this community. She wasn’t likely to just walk away from it all.
    As Savannah left her car
and walked up to the front door of the house, she couldn’t help noticing the
landscaping. Although the Yards in this part of town were miniscule—with every
inch of waterfront property a precious commodity—Suzette Du Bois or her
groundskeepers had made the most of the tiny lot. Strategically placed lights
illuminated the terraced flower beds, which brimmed with Martha Washington
geraniums, glistening white alyssum, and deep blue lobelia. Ivy climbed the
stucco walls and intertwined with equally hearty bougainvillea, adding an
old-world charm to the house that was obviously new.
    When she approached the
front door she saw that it was ajar, and she could hear male voices coming from
inside the house. One of them was Dirk’s.
    Through the sparkling
beveled glass sidelight next to the door, she could see him standing in the
well-lit foyer with a tall, dark-haired fellow who appeared to be in his late
forties or early fifties.
    Pushing the door open, she
stuck her head inside. “May I come in?” she asked.
    Dirk gave her a curt nod,
then turned his attention back to the man. “And that was the last you or anyone
you know saw her?”
    “Yes. She was leaving the
office.”
    “You saw her drive away?”
    He nodded. “In her BMW,
which is in the garage. I checked. So, at least, she made it home,” he said
with what sounded to Savannah like a less-than-genuine Italian accent. A number
of things looked less than natural about the guy, from his heavily-gelled hair,
which was a suspiciously intense shade of blue-black, to the eyebrows perched
halfway up his forehead and the perpetually surprised look on his face.
Apparently, he had had a few too many face-lifts in the losing battle against
looking his age.
    He also looked worried.
Worried and tired... as if he hadn’t slept for days.
    Savannah wondered why he
would be so tired. Suzette had only gone missing today.
    She walked over to them and
stood next to Dirk. When he said nothing, but continued to scribble on his notepad,
she held out her hand to the man. “I’m Savannah Reid, a friend of Sergeant
Coulter here.”
    Dirk glanced up and
grunted. “Oh, sorry. Yes, she was my partner on the force for years. Now she’s
a private investigator. I ask her to hang out with me once in a while. You
mind?”
    The man didn’t seem to mind
at all. In fact, he visually perked-up at the mention of her being a P.I. “I’m
Sergio D’Alessandro,” he said as he took her hand and gave it a hearty shake.
At the same time, his eyes traveled up and