Free Disrobed for Death by Sylvia Rochester

policy.”
    “If Clarissa’s planning anything, she’ll be closed mouth about it. On the other hand, you might find you have her pegged all wrong, that she and the doc made a clean break. What then?”
    “Then I’ll keep digging, but my gut tells me I’m not wrong.”
    “Look, I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll ask around. Maybe the doc had a problem with someone at the hospital. I’ll check the court records for any suits filed against him. Going from civil to criminal court is not unusual.”
    “I knew I could count on you.”
    “On one condition—you don’t let anyone know what I’m doing. And by all means, don’t do anything foolish. You might be the fashion police, but I’m a homicide detective. Leave the investigation to me. If they cart you off to the loony bin, I don’t want to go with you.”
    She laughed.
    As he walked her to her car, he gave one last warning. “Be careful what you say to anyone. If you stumble across the killer, you might wind up the next victim. I’d hate for you and Doc Evans to meet again at the funeral home.”

    Susan drove home from Wesley’s with her spirits lifted. Even if he didn’t believe her story, he was willing to help. For sure, she needed all the help she could get. Susan realized she was treading in dangerous and unfamiliar waters, and Wesley could provide guidance and protection, but no way could she stay out of it.
    It was early afternoon when she stepped into her apartment. The presence of her mom and dad still lingered. There was the faint hint of her mother’s perfume, and the recliner where her dad had rested his head lay embossed with his impression. Fluffing the top pillow, she found herself wishing they were still there.
    Her furry friend peaked around the sofa and broke her concentration. Picking up Marmalade, she stroked the cat’s head. “How’s my sweet baby?”
    The animal responded with tiny, motor-boat-like purrs.
    “Okay, let’s go check your bowl,” Susan said, putting the cat down. Marmalade pranced ahead, her fluffy tail straight up like a flag pole.
    After seeing to the cat’s needs, Susan decided to sit for a while on her patio, something she hadn’t done since moving back home. Getting the business up and running had been a non-stop affair. She fixed a fresh cup of coffee and took a seat at the wrought iron table.
    Winter in Louisiana provided days where the temperature would moderate, and the sun would tease at the possibility of an early spring. Today was such a day. The lawn, dappled with patches of clover, stretched into woods at the back of the property. Silver trunks and bare branches mingled with stately pines and a few willows, both of which painted a swath of green among the skeletal trees. A handful of birds flittered among the sparse foliage.
    Such a mild day should beckon to residents, but no one wandered about the complex. If not at work, she could only assume they preferred to remain indoors. That suited her just fine. The solitude would give her time to gather her thoughts. Tomorrow was her last shot at convincing the guy who had saved her life that his was about to abruptly end, and she intended to do everything she could to prevent him from getting killed.
    An hour later, she was still mulling over the possibilities when a mockingbird lit on the back of the chair across from her. It cocked its head from side-to-side then half raised its wings, again and again, a mystery common to the bird. She sat mesmerized by the fact that it didn’t seem to be afraid of her. That triggered her imagination. The setting became a Disney moment, like a scene from one of the late Mr. Disney’s animated movies. Any minute she expected to see and hear a high-pitched chorus of feathered friends descending with flowers in their beaks.
    Susan bolted upright from her chair.
    “I am crazy!” she said, startling the bird. As it flew away, she wondered if her weird thinking was also linked to her injury. She didn’t foresee