Also by Denise Swanson
Welcome Back to Scumble River
Dead in the Water
Die Me a River
Come Homicide or High Water
Chef-to-Go Mysteries
Tart of Darkness
Leave No Scone Unturned
Winner Cake All
Thank you for downloading this Sourcebooks eBook!
You are just one click away from…
• Being the first to hear about author happenings
• VIP deals and steals
• Exclusive giveaways
• Free bonus content
• Early access to interactive activities
• Sneak peeks at our newest titles
Happy reading!
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2021 by Denise Swanson Stybr
Cover and internal design © 2021 by Sourcebooks
Cover illustration © Traci Deberko
Sourcebooks, Poisoned Pen Press, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published by Poisoned Pen Press, an imprint of Sourcebooks
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
sourcebooks.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Swanson, Denise, author.
Title: Body over troubled waters / Denise Swanson.
Description: Naperville, Illinois : Poisoned Pen Press, [2021] | Series:
Welcome back to Scumble River ; book 4
Identifiers: LCCN 2020054457 (print) | LCCN 2020054458 (ebook) | (paperback) | (epub)
Classification: LCC PS3619.W36 B64 2021 (print) | LCC PS3619.W36 (ebook)
| DDC 813/.6--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020054457
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020054458
Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Excerpt from Dead in the Water
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
About the Author
Back Cover
Chapter 1
First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
As school psychologist Skye Denison-Boyd waited for the Scumble River school district superintendent’s impromptu meeting to begin, she squirmed on the uncomfortable metal folding chair. With few exceptions, these types of seats seemed to be designed for individuals with much smaller derrières than hers. She’d always tended toward a rounder figure than was socially acceptable, but her recent pregnancy had certainly increased her already generous curves.
Closing her eyes, Skye took a deep cleansing breath in an attempt to regain the feeling of serenity she’d had when she arrived at school—before being summoned from her office. Immediately, the list of urgent psychological evaluations waiting for her attention danced in her head.
She worried her lower lip, wondering how far behind the superintendent’s spur-of-the-moment summons would put her. This was so not how she’d planned to begin her week.
Glancing around Scumble River High’s cavernous auditorium, Skye noted that the rest of the staff seemed equally unhappy to be have their Monday morning appropriated by Dr. Wraige’s unscheduled gathering. The only employees in the building who had been excused where those who had hall monitoring duty. They would be informed about the big announcement by their team leader.
Skye’s best friend, Trixie Frayne, the high school librarian, sat with one shapely leg crossed over the other. Her foot swung back and forth, a kitten-heeled magenta suede pump dangling off her toes.
From the look on Trixie’s face, Skye figured her friend was either plotting her next book—her agent was trying to sell the first one—or thinking about everything she had to do before the students arrived and descended on the multimedia center. When her nut-brown eyes widened and she dug into her bag for a pencil, Skye decided it was the former.
On Skye’s other side, Piper Townsend, the school psych intern, sat as if at attention. Her feet, shod in sensible low-heeled black pumps, were firmly planted on the floor, her knee-length pleated skirt was tucked around her legs, and she had a notepad open on her lap. Pen poised, ready to capture whatever vital information the superintendent was about to impart, Piper faced the stage nearly quivering in anticipation.
A screech from the PA system refocused Skye’s attention, and she turned her head in time to see district superintendent Shamus Wraige striding across the stage. Homer Knapik, the high school principal, walked the appropriate three paces behind his boss.
Skye shivered. In order to save money on heating bills, the building’s boiler was turned down over the weekend. It took several hours to bring the school’s interior up to its normal temperature on Mondays, and the auditorium was still chilly.
So why was Dr. Wraige’s forehead damp and beads of sweat running off his chin?
What in the world was he about to announce?
When the superintendent picked up the microphone, Skye noticed that his hand trembled so badly the mic shook as if he were playing it like a tambourine, but when he spoke his voice was strong. “Beginning today, Scott Ricci will no longer be working at the high school.”
A murmur from the audience rose and Skye looked at Trixie. Her friend shrugged. She clearly had no idea Scott had been fired either.
The superintendent continued, “I’ve finally convinced the board members that a community like ours really has no need for a glorified security guard in its schools.” He chuckled. “It’s not as if anyone here is going to pull a Columbine or a Sandy Hook. We don’t have crazy people like that in our little town.”
Appalled at both the administrator’s cavalier attitude toward those tragedies and his appalling lack of understanding about when and where that type of violence occurred, Skye fought to keep her expression neutral. She really would have to send him a memo outlining the statistics surrounding those kinds of shootings.
Due to the choices he’d made in his personal life, the superintenden
t had never been Skye’s favorite person, but at least, unlike Principal Knapik, Dr. Wraige had previously displayed a reasonable grasp of educational rules and regulations. In addition, he was savvy enough to realize that following those rules and regs helped keep the district from being sued or denied funding.
A desire that, sadly, was the superintendent’s prime motivation, so he often acted with expediency rather than choosing what was best for the students. And in this case, his expediency could very well put everyone in the high school at risk.
A month or so ago, Skye and Dr. Wraige had come to an uneasy pact. She had handled a sticky situation and he had agreed to treat the position of school psychologist with the respect the profession deserved. This respect included adequate space in which to do the job and an increased budget for supplies and equipment.
Too bad Skye hadn’t realized that she needed to negotiate continued employment for the support staff she relied on to make her job easier. Which position was next on the superintendent’s list to be eliminated?
Forcing herself to remain calm, Skye reminded herself that anger never solved anything. In order to deal successfully with Dr. Wraige, she needed all the facts.
Concentrating, she heard Dr. Wraige continue, “By replacing our present safety officer with an attendance and residency investigator, we’ll be able to ensure that our district receives all the funding that is due to us. In addition, we will make sure that the students benefiting from our wonderful school system actually live within our district boundaries. Those despicable individuals trying to scam the system by claiming residency for children who do not in fact reside with them will be thwarted.”
Piper and Skye exchanged a troubled look. While Skye had been out on maternity leave, the school psych intern had been involved in a contested residency issue with Homer. Was this a response to that incident?
While the superintendent droned on about the increased funding that they would be able to secure with less truancy and how much money they would save by kicking out students who didn’t live within the district limits, Skye worried about who would take up the slack left by the safety officer’s departure.
Granted, Scott had only been at the school for the past year and a half. But he’d quickly filled a gap Skye hadn’t even been aware existed.
In addition to keeping the students and faculty safe, Scott had helped with conflict mediation, worked with parents seeking information about substance abuse, and talked to kids who had problems. With him gone, Skye, Piper, and the high school’s all-but-useless guidance counselor would have to shoulder those additional duties.
“We will be using the twenty-eight thousand dollars per year that we paid Officer Ricci to be here sixteen hours a week,” Dr. Wraige’s voice broke into Skye’s thoughts, “as part of our new full-time attendance and residency investigator’s salary.”
“Where’s the rest of the money coming from?” Someone in the audience—Skye was pretty sure it was the physical education teacher—shouted.
Her guess was validated when that same voice continued, “It better not be coming from our sports program or our stadium fund.”
The superintendent briefly frowned at the interruption, but then pasted a fake smile on his face. “You all will be happy to hear that the money is available to us through a grant that I personally was able to secure for this new position.” He held up his hands palms outward as if to placate them. “No programs or building improvements will be impacted financially in any way.”
With the assurance that the cash wasn’t coming from the teachers’ line in the budget, the rumblings in the audience subsided and Skye mentally shook her head. Not that she blamed the rest of the faculty. They probably saw little reason for Scott’s presence.
Most of the staff were unaware of the problems that the safety officer prevented. And it was hard for the majority of the faculty to imagine a sleepy little town in central Illinois, like Scumble River, ever having the kind of violence that the majority of them only saw on TV.
As Skye checked her watch, hoping she’d have time to prepare for her first period evaluation before classes began, Dr. Wraige raised his voice and announced, “Now, I would like you all to welcome Tavish Wraige, our new attendance and residency investigator.”
There was a polite spattering of applause as a thirtyish man wearing a stylish blue suit with a matching checked shirt and navy tie joined the superintendent at the podium. Both men were solidly built, but the younger one was several inches taller than the older one.
And while Dr. Wraige’s hair had faded to rust and receded into a bushy Bozo-style half-moon around his head, Tavish’s was a true red and his curls were clipped close to his scalp. Similar teak-brown eyes surveyed the audience.
Skye stared at the duo as she rubbed her chin. Wraige was an unusual surname and the resemblance was remarkable. Tavish may have a more muscular chest and broader shoulders, but he had to be a fairly close relative of the superintendent—maybe even his son.
Searching her memory, Skye realized that she knew very little about Dr. Wraige. He had been hired as the district superintendent during the twelve years that she had spent away from Scumble River—first as she attended college, then worked in the Peace Corps, and finally went to graduate school. By the time she’d moved back to town, he was firmly established in his role of head honcho.
Outside of school, she and the superintendent didn’t travel in the same social circles. And the few times she’d interacted with him in his role as the district’s chief administrator, their encounters had been strictly professional and blessedly brief.
Strangely, considering the inherently gossipy nature of a small town like Scumble River, she’d never heard much talk about him. The only piece of personal information she knew about him, she’d learned in her role as the local police’s psych consultant. It was during a murder investigation and it centered on his unusual sex life, which included kinky goings-on with women other than his wife.
Skye closed her eyes and pushed the image away. She had tried hard to get the picture of Dr. Wraige dressed in leather, wielding a whip, out of her head and was very sorry it had popped back into her thoughts.
Back then, there had been no talk of Dr. Wraige having children. However, considering that the superintendent was in his late fifties, perhaps that was because none of his offspring lived in town. If he had sons or daughters, they would most likely be adults. Which coincided perfectly with the age of their new attendance and residency investigator.
Skye sat through the remainder of the meeting as Dr. Wraige extolled Tavish’s extensive qualifications for the position, considering her next step.
Without any warning, Dr. Wraige stopped talking and hurried across the stage. His newest employee followed him. When they both disappeared behind the curtain, the audience took that, and the sound of the first bell, as permission to get to their classrooms, and surged out of the auditorium.
Making a snap decision, Skye told Piper and Trixie not to wait for her. Then, instead of following the crowd out into the corridor, she ran up the steps to the stage and hurried after the superintendent. He was doubtlessly heading for the theater’s back exit. It opened to the school’s rear hallway, which ended at the door to the parking lot.
If she didn’t catch up with Dr. Wraige now, she’d have to make a formal appointment to talk to him later. The knowledge that any request for a meeting would most likely be met with delay after delay caused Skye to put on a burst of speed.
Jogging through the various cartons, theater props, and other detritus that occupied the offstage area, her footsteps stuttered to an abrupt stop just before she reached the exit.
She could see the two men standing in the open door. Both wore disgruntled expressions.
Dr. Wraige had his hand on the younger guy’s arm as he said, “Son, I pulled a lot of strings and promised a lot of favors to get you here. You need to hold
on to this job because I won’t rescue you again.”
“Did I ask for your help?” Tavish retorted and walked away.
Skye waited a few seconds, then cleared her throat to get the superintendent’s attention and said, “Dr. Wraige, may I speak to you for a moment?”
“Make it quick.” Scowling, he swung toward her. Instantly his demeanor morphed into a bland smile and he replied, “Mrs. Denison-Boyd, are you finally back from your maternity leave?”
“I am.” Skye returned his smile with the exact same degree of warmth as he’d given her, which is to say tepid. “For several weeks now.”
“That must be why Homer hasn’t been whining as much about having to deal with parents.” Dr. Wraige moved toward her, stopping only inches short of invading her personal space. “What can I do for you?”
Skye had noticed that the superintendent often used his size to intimidate people, and while he had a good six inches in height on her, she was no lightweight. Refusing to step back, which she suspected he intended her to do, Skye instead moved slightly forward.
He involuntarily leaned away, and before he could recover, Skye said, “So Tavish is your son? I didn’t realize you had children.”
“My first wife and I had a son together. He stayed with his mother after our divorce.” Dr. Wraige adjusted his tie. “As of yet, the present Mrs. Wraige and I do not have any children together. But you never can tell. Nanette’s biological clock is certainly still ticking.” He winked. “At least for a little while longer.”
“Oh, I see.” Skye was a bit taken aback at his oversharing and didn’t know where to go from there. “Right.”
She was aware his wife was much younger, so, as he said, a second family was possible. Still, most men the superintendent’s age were generally looking forward to being grandfathers, not parents of a newborn.
“Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” Dr. Wraige tilted his head. “Because I need to use the restroom and then get back to my office.”
“No,” Skye quickly replied. “Sorry. I was just wondering what the duties of our new attendance and residency investigator will involve. You really didn’t elaborate on them at the meeting.”
Body Over Troubled Waters Page 1