For a moment, the line was silent, and then he took a deep breath. “Does the grandmother have any ideas about who killed Frazier?”
“No, but there’s something else. The daughter is nineteen now, and she found Marilee. They’ve been corresponding and they were going to meet.”
Okay, now I’d told him everything I knew. Well, almost everything.
Twenty-One
I said, “If Frazier was insanely jealous like Cora says he was, maybe he killed Marilee when he caught her with another man.”
“And what was the other man doing while Frazier was killing Marilee, standing by watching?”
“Frazier could have knocked him out first.”
“And who took Marilee’s body to the woods? Do you think Frazier did that while the second guy was unconscious and then went back to get himself killed? Damned cooperative of him if he did.”
“Well, I don’t know, Guidry. I’m just passing on what Cora told me, so don’t give me attitude.”
“I appreciate the information, Dixie. Like I said, you get around.”
“Yeah. Now, when can I get a haz-mat crew in Marilee’s house so I can bring Ghost home?”
“Who?”
“Marilee Doerring’s cat. We talked about him, remember?”
“Dixie, the Doerring woman is dead. You can’t bring a cat back to her house.”
“What’s the difference in her being dead and off on a trip?”
“A pulse, for starters.”
“No, I mean what’s the difference to a cat? The contract I had with Marilee Doerring gives me temporary custody of her cat, with the obligation to do whatever is necessary for his welfare in an emergency. This is an emergency. There’s no reason why he can’t stay in familiar surroundings while I look for a new home for him. He’d be a lot happier.”
“That’s what I live for, Dixie, to make a cat happy.”
I batted away a floating cat hair and said, “Okay, that was snide, because I really do live to make a cat happy.”
“Crime-scene tape should come down some time tomorrow. It’s all yours after that.”
“Just until I can find a home for Ghost. Would you and your wife like a nice cat? Absyssinians are usually good with kids. If you have some, that is.”
There was another pause while my face got hot. I couldn’t believe I’d just said what I’d said. He was going to think I was trying to find out if he was single, which was ridiculous. When he spoke, I could hear the grin in his voice. “I don’t happen to have any kids, Dixie, never have. Don’t have a wife, either, although I did once.”
My lips were tingling like I’d had a shot of niacin. It was really stupid. I didn’t care whether he was married or not. I said, “A cat would be good company for you, Guidry. Cats don’t have to be taken for walks, and they don’t bark and disturb the neighbors. They’re really ideal pets. Research shows that people who have pets are healthier than people who don’t. Did you know that?”
This time, he outright laughed. “I’ll think about it, Dixie, but don’t get your hopes up.”
He clicked off and left me holding an empty phone.
I muttered, “Fuck you very much, Lieutenant,” and started the Bronco.
Talking about Ghost had helped me get my priorities straight. I had to find a new home for Ghost, and I had to do it quickly. He was not only cramped in his private room at Marge’s, but it was costing me forty dollars a day to leave him there.
I didn’t want to leave him with just anybody, either. Pets are like surrogate children. Now that I knew how Marilee had been denied her own daughter, I understood a little better why she had lavished so much love and attention on Ghost. Unable to choose the most nutritious food for her child, she chose it for her cat. Forbidden to buy pretty clothes and toys and baubles for her daughter, she bought them for her cat. Even Ghost’s collar with its silver hearts and keys was like a charm bracelet she might have given her daughter. I felt a new affinity for Marilee, a kind of mother-to-mother rapport. Marilee had entrusted me with her substitute child, and I wanted to carry out her wishes.
I was already late making my afternoon pet visits, but I turned the Bronco toward Roberts Point Road and Shuga Reasnor’s house. I pulled up in front of Shuga’s glass doors and slammed out of the car into the suspended heat peculiar to late afternoon on Siesta Key.
Shuga was home. I could see her through the glass doors. She was sitting on one of her rose linen sofas with a phone stuck to her ear and one long bronzed leg swinging like a nervous pendulum. She saw me when I got to the top step, and even that far away I could see her eyes widen. She got up and started toward the door, still talking on the phone. I put my fists on my hips and stood without ringing the bell while she ended her conversation and flipped the phone shut.
She pulled the door open and stood looking at me. At first, I thought she had two black eyes, but it was smeared mascara. She said, “I know she’s dead. The detective called me.”
“Can I come in?”
“What do you want?”
“You’re the person Marilee authorized to make decisions about her cat.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!”
Rolling her eyes, Shuga stepped out of the way and pulled the door shut behind me. We walked silently to the living room and sat down across from each other.
“I just have a few minutes,” she said. “I have to take care of things a lot more important than a damned cat.”
“Things like calling Marilee’s daughter and telling her that her mother’s dead?”
Her leg stopped swinging, and she gave me a level look.
“Yeah, things like that.”
“That’s who you called, isn’t it? That’s where you thought Marilee was going when she left here.”
“Okay. Is that a crime?”
“Why didn’t you tell Lieutenant Guidry that you’d talked to her daughter? Why didn’t you tell him you knew Harrison Frazier?”
Her head snapped up then, and she jumped to her feet. “Get the hell out of my house, lady. My best friend just died, and I don’t have time for this shit.”
“Your best friend didn’t die, she was murdered. Did you kill Marilee, Shuga? Were you involved with Frazier and got jealous because he had the hots for Marilee?”
She barked a loud laugh, then sat down and took a cigarette from the crystal holder on the coffee table. She stuck it in her mouth and talked around it while she lit it from the silver lighter on the table. “That’s rich. Me involved with Harrison Frazier? I don’t think so.”
She sucked smoke deep into her chest and slumped back on the couch, looking at me the way a cobra looks at the man playing the flute, wondering whether to be nice or lunge for my throat.
I said, “Let me make it easier for you. I know that Harrison Frazier was the father of Marilee’s daughter, and I know he’s been seeing her for years. Did he come here to Siesta Key to see her?”
Through a fog of exhaled smoke, she said, “Oh, God no. Too close to Orlando. No, they met in other places. Every month or so, she would fly off and spend a few days with him. They always went to some out-of-the-way place where nobody would recognize them. Harrison would rent a cabin in some godforsaken spot in Louisiana or get a room in a mom-and-pop motel in Bumfuck, Nebraska, places like that. He could have taken her to the penthouse suite at the finest hotel in the world, but he took Marilee to dumb places like that. She was so crazy about him, she thought she had a good time. I think they spent all their time fucking, so I guess maybe she did.”
“If they always met someplace else, what was he doing here when he was killed?”