Luckily, Violet was a believer. A teacher who passionately believed that despite all the obstacles thrown her way, she would be able to have a positive impact on her students. Skye looked at her faith as a reminder to them all why they went to work every day.
As Skye settled into her seat and flipped open her legal pad, Neve gave her an annoyed look, then glanced around the occupied tables and said, “Now that we’re all finally here, let’s begin.”
Skye checked the wall clock. Shoot! She was a minute late.
Neva nodded to Skye’s tablemate and said, “Ms. Lawrence, please tell the team what you reported to me this morning.”
In a soft voice, the teacher said, “Yesterday, just before the final bell, during the free time my class had earned, Tyson Howe was showing his friends a pocket watch.” She cleared her throat. “It looked like family heirloom and I asked to see it.”
Skye watched Neva’s expression darken and wondered what was coming.
“It was heavy, which made me suspect it was solid gold, and it was beautifully monogrammed.” Violet’s face clouded. “I knew this young man’s family weren’t financially able to allow their child to bring expensive items to school that might get lost.” Violet’s cheeks reddened. “I, uh, wondered if his parents realized he had it and thought maybe he’d taken it from their house without their consent.”
“Go on,” Neva commanded.
“After the students were dismissed, I called Tyson’s parents and spoke to his mother.” Violet’s periwinkle-blue eyes rounded in dismay. “She said that they didn’t own such a watch and had no idea how their son had come into possession of the expensive antique.”
“So the parents are aware and will deal with it?” Skye asked.
“Not exactly.” Neva’s mouth pursed. “This morning Mr. Howe telephoned me and informed me that their son assured them that Ms. Lawrence had misunderstood and that the watch actually belonged to their son’s friend. They searched his room and backpack. They didn’t find any watch, so they were inclined to believe him.”
“But I didn’t misunderstand.” Violet crossed her arms. “In my classroom, he was definitely claiming ownership of the watch.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Skye offered.
“I believe that would be best.” Neva nodded. “We don’t want to harm his relationship with Ms. Lawrence.”
“And if he admits that it’s his and that he obtained it by questionable means?” Skye kept her expression neutral. “Shall I contact the parents, or is that something you would want to do, Neva?”
The principal sat back in her chair and gazed at Skye. “Report to me, then once I have the facts, I’ll decide how we should proceed.”
“Of course.” Skye nodded.
Neva could be prickly. She wasn’t as difficult to work with as Homer, but she wasn’t warm and fuzzy like the elementary school principal, either.
“I’d like you to get right on it.” Twin lines formed between Neva’s eyebrows and she stared at Skye. “I know your time with us is officially over at the conclusion of this meeting, but I’d like you to speak with this boy before you leave.”
“Well.” Skye stalled as she frantically tried to come up with an excuse. “The thing is, my husband phoned just before I came to this meeting and there’s a bit of a personal emergency that he needs me to handle. Seeing as I have flex time accrued from coming in during my maternity leave, once I clear it with Homer, I’m hoping to take the afternoon off to deal with Wally’s situation.”
“I see.” Neva’s expression was sour. “I suppose our issue can wait until tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Skye’s stomach clenched. “Normally, I’d be happy to rearrange my schedule to talk to the young man right away.”
“Fine.” Neva pushed back her chair. “Ms. Lawrence, do not engage this young man until Skye has spoken to him. If he says anything regarding your call to his parents, avoid the subject as best you can.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Violet answered. “I doubt that he’ll bring it up.”
“Good.” Neva nodded. “Now let’s move on to item number two on our agenda.”
Thirty minutes later, Neva stood to indicate the meeting was over and they were all dismissed. “Thank you, everyone. See you next week.” She put her hand on Skye’s arm stopping her attempt to slip out the door. “I need a word with you before you go.”
Skye nodded, stepped back into the classroom, and waited.
Once everyone else had left, Neva shut the door and asked, “I don’t wish to pry into your private life, but is there a problem with your babies?”
“No.” Her pulse quickened.
Rats!
She had worked hard to gain the principal’s trust and she wished she could tell her about the murder. “I can’t explain right now, but I hope to be able to clarify the situation tomorrow.”
“I would appreciate that.” Neva’s expression was troubled. “I know I can seem distant, but I consider you more than just an employee.”
“Thank you.” Skye swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“I depend on you. Probably more than I should,” Neva admitted.
“In what way?” Skye was confused. “You’ve never asked me to do anything that I wouldn’t consider my job.”
“I appreciate that.” Neva tilted her head. “But having you gone during your maternity leave, I realized that everyone turns to you for assistance.”
“Which I’m happy to provide,” Skye said.
“I’m sure you are.” Neva shrugged her shoulders. “However, we really need to get you some help. In these trying times, three schools are just too much for one mental health professional to shoulder.”
“I definitely wouldn’t turn down some assistance.” Skye beamed.
“Good.” Neva nodded. “I’ve been impressed with Piper’s performance. What would you think of offering her a job when her internship is completed?”
Skye stood stunned by Neva’s words and spoke before she remembered that Dr. Wraige was dead. “I think that would be awesome. The superintendent also mentioned something of that sort, but I wasn’t sure he was serious. Will he approve a second position and if he does, can he get it passed the board?”
“Dr. Wraige will do what I ask.” Neva’s smile was mysterious. “And he has the school board right where he wants them.”
Chapter 8
Who Will Be My Valentine?
Skye dashed to her SUV, unlocked the door, and threw her purse and tote bag on the passenger seat. Sliding behind the wheel, she was already tugging her cell phone from her pocket and sending a message to Wally telling him she was finished with her meeting.
A few seconds later, she realized she had no idea where Dr. Wraige lived and followed up with a quick text asking for his address. Wally immediately responded with the superintendent’s street name and house number.
Skye punched that information into her GPS and sent a prayer of thanks that after her Bel Air had been totaled in the tornado, Wally had surprised her with the wonderful new luxury vehicle. She had a terrible sense of direction and the Mercedes’s navigation package was a lifesaver.
In fact, the system was so advanced, Skye was just waiting for the upper-crust British voice to start saying, “Your other left, madam,” when she made a wrong turn.
Chuckling at her flight of fancy, Skye fastened her seat belt and drove out of the parking lot. She knew how to get to the elite subdivision but would have been lost without the GPS instructions once she passed the fancy stone entrance.
As she drove, Skye mulled over Neva’s parting statements. Why would Dr. Wraige have agreed to do what the principal asked? And how had the superintendent gotten the school board right where he wanted them?
Bearing in mind that the man in question had just been killed, those were questions she definitely
had to remember to share with Wally. There was a fair possibility that the answers might shed some light on the motivation behind Dr. Wraige’s murder. Or could even point to the killer.
Approaching the housing development, Skye unmuted the GPS and followed the elegant voice’s direction until she saw Wally’s Hummer in the driveway of a whitewashed brick home. The adjacent cul-de-sac was filled with a squad car, a dark blue county crime scene van, and a white Ford Transit with Medical Examiner stenciled on it in gold.
It hadn’t occurred to her when Wally mentioned that the ME was at the scene, but as Skye parked in the last open spot along the cul-de-sac’s curb, she wondered why the medical examiner was there instead of Simon Reid, the county coroner. Then again, Simon was her ex-boyfriend and thus not one of her husband’s favorite people. Had Wally found a way to cut him out of the loop?
Whatever.
Skye mentally shrugged. She didn’t really care and had enough to worry about without adding Simon’s absence to her list.
Besides, if Wally had bypassed him, it would make the situation a lot easier for her. Since her marriage, Simon always had a snarky remark about her husband or someone else Skye loved. At first, she cut him some slack because she knew he was hurt by their breakup. But it had been over a year now, and she was getting sick of it.
When she realized just how much weight had been lifted from her shoulders by the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to deal with Simon, Skye blew out a breath. She’d never allowed herself to think about how stressed she’d been by his spitefulness. Notifying the next of kin about the death of their loved one was bad enough without a snide ex around.
Grabbing her purse, Skye put the strap across her body, exited the car, and headed toward Wally, who was waiting for her in front of the large house. He motioned her over to him and Skye waved back, then hurried to join him on the sidewalk.
When Wally grabbed Skye’s hand and started leading her away, Skye asked, “Where are we going?”
“The crime scene techs are still in the house and haven’t released the scene yet,” Wally explained. “But they should be finished any minute. In the meantime, while we’re waiting for Quirk to return with Mrs. Wraige and her stepson, I’ll bring you up to speed.”
“Will Roy tell them that Dr. Wraige is dead?” Skye asked, pretty sure she knew the answer.
“No.” Wally led Skye around to the back of the house and they climbed the steps up to the deck. “He’ll just say there was another break-in.”
“I see.” Skye sighed. “Which means you’d like me to tell them.”
Nodding, Wally cautioned, “But not until I give you the go-ahead.”
Wally brushed the snow off a couple of patio chairs and dried them with a towel from the duffel bag he was carrying, then motioned Skye to take a seat. Once she was settled and he was sitting, she waited several minutes for him to speak. Finally, she cleared her throat to get him going.
Wally startled as if his thoughts had been somewhere else, then he took a deep breath and said, “I’m glad you were able to get away. Did Homer give you any trouble about leaving for the afternoon?”
“Not all.” Skye chuckled. “Mostly because he was unavailable when I called. He’d gone out to lunch. So I just left a message with Opal and alerted Piper.”
“Good.” Wally leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. “I’m glad you have someone to help you out. Too bad she’s temporary.”
“Actually”—Skye tapped his nose—“Neva just mentioned that the district might offer Piper a full-time job once her internship is over.”
“Neva?” Wally’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Why would she be the one to tell you that? Wouldn’t that be something Wraige would announce? Or even more likely the school board would have to finalize?”
“Normally, yes.” Skye explained her conversation with the junior high principal, then added. “She seemed sort of different today.”
Wally wrinkled his brow. “Because she was making promises that she had no business making?”
“That.” Skye pursed her lips. “But she also stated that we were more than colleagues.”
“How odd.” Wally’s frown deepened. “You’ve always told me that she’s extremely formal with her staff, right?” When Skye nodded, he continued. “And that she’s really rigid about people staying in their lanes, which she definitely swerved out of when she told you about hiring Piper.”
Before Skye could respond, a crime scene tech opened the kitchen’s sliding glass door, pushed her jumpsuit hood back, removed her goggles, and said, “We’re done here if you want to come inside, Chief.” She glanced at Skye and added, “Oh, hi, Mrs. Boyd.”
At first Skye didn’t recognize the woman. She’d met quite a few of the techs at various crime scenes and with them all usually dressed in identical protective gear, it was hard to identify them individually.
After a few seconds, Skye realized this was the tech who had processed her for evidence when their builder’s wife was murdered and quickly said, “Hi!” She narrowed her eyes. “You know, I never did get my coat back after you took it from me at the other crime scene. How do I go about claiming it?”
“Oops!” The woman blushed. “It must have gotten misplaced. I’ll find it and send it to the police station as soon as I get to the lab.”
“Thanks.” Skye had really liked that coat, and with the tornado taking must of her clothes, her wardrobe was still pretty meager.
“Unless there’s something else, Chief, my partner and I will be taking off,” the tech said twisting her dark brown ponytail. “We like to get everything secured in our evidence room ASAP.”
“Not that I can think of right now.” Wally tilted his head, considering. “Wait. Did you take the statue, including the base?”
“Yep. Cupid is in our van ready for his trip to Laurel.” The tech’s hazel eyes twinkled. “Maybe he can improve the love lives around our lab.”
“If his last owner is any indication, you don’t want this cupid’s help,” Wally said dryly. “Either you’ll end up dead or in handcuffs.”
“Oh. Yeah.” The woman chuckled. “I almost forgot about the adult toys we found.” She turned to leave, then just before she walked away, she added, “Oh. The ME has the body loaded in her Transit, but she wants a word with you.”
“I’ll be right in.” Wally rose from his chair and offered Skye his hand. “Shall we?”
“Sure.” Skye got up and followed him inside. “Where was Dr. Wraige?”
“In the master suite.” Wally pointed to the left. “In the sitting area.”
Wally started to say something else, but before he could speak, Doris Ann Norris, the medical examiner, strode into the kitchen. She was in her late fifties, wearing a pair of black slacks and a red turtleneck with a thigh-length black-and-red cardigan. A coordinating scarf looped around her neck and her ash-blond hair was styled in a smooth bob that stopped right below her chin.
Even the crumpled Tyvek coverall she held in her hands didn’t mar her casual elegance. Although the PVC booties on her feet did make for an odd picture.
Smiling, she said, “Chief, Skye, good to see you both. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.” She chuckled. “I was hoping the next time we met, it would be over a nice dinner rather than a dead body.”
Dr. Norris had only been on the job for a few months, but during their initial encounter, when Wally realized that she’d be alone over Thanksgiving, he’d invited her to join them for their family dinner. Soon after that, Doris Ann and Wally’s father had become an item.
“Me too.” Skye stepped forward and gave the ME a big hug. “So, what’s the scoop?”
“I can’t tell you too much yet,” Doris Ann said. “But there was some powdery residue near his fly that might end up being helpful.”
“Why is that?” Skye asked, not sure she really wanted to know.
“Because his time of death is roughly between eight and ten a.m.”
“Actually.” Wally flipped open his notepad. “The vic was alive at eight thirty because that was when he called the mayor to complain that the police weren’t doing enough about his burglaries and to say he’d heard someone rattle his back door, but no one was there when he went to check on it.”
“Great.” Doris Ann beamed. “Then you only have a ninety-minute window.”
“What does his time of death have to do with the stuff on his pants?” Skye asked.
“Well.” She looked at Skye as if to gauge her reaction. “I’m pretty sure the stuff, as you called it, is a powder-based makeup…”
“I see.” Skye screwed up her face as she thought about the implications of Doris Ann’s statement. “On his shirt or sleeve, he could have brushed up against the makeup on a dressing table or something.”
“Right,” the ME agreed. “But where it was located on his fly, it’s more plausible that he was brushing against someone rather than something.”
Wally glanced between Skye and Doris Ann, then said, “So what you’re trying to tell me, Doc, is that he was probably getting intimate with someone, and she might very well be his killer.” He shook his head. “Which means that his wife is a prime suspect.”
Skye asked him, “You do remember what we learned about the superintendent’s sex life when we investigated Palmer Wraige’s murder?”
“Of course I do. That’s why I mentioned the handcuffs to the crime scene tech.” Wally took a breath, evidently processing the implications and cursed. “Shi-shizzle!” He corrected himself and Skye rewarded him with a smile for sticking to their no swearing agreement.
“What about his sex life?” Doris Ann asked, clearly intrigued.
Skye looked at Wally for permission to reveal the information and when he gave a slight nod, she said, “Dr. Wraige belonged to a BDSM club and had partners that weren’t his wife.”
“No shit!” Doris Ann’s pupils dilated. “And he was superintendent of your school district? I would have never guessed in a million years that Scumble River was so liberal-minded.”
Body Over Troubled Waters Page 7