Body Over Troubled Waters

by Denise Swanson

  “Interesting.” Wally winked. “How about the other way around? Folks who are mostly conventional but do a little exploring? Do they get hooked and aren’t able to go back to their usual ways?”

  “Absolutely not!” Skye choked on the sip of water she’d just taken. Was Wally suggesting what she thought he might be? “Why?”

  “Just wondering, since the police academy didn’t have such an enlightening class in this curriculum.” Still chuckling, Wally asked, “What do you think Nanette meant when she told you that she and her husband had come to some sort of compromise that they both could live with and that he no longer had other sex partners?”

  “I thought”—Skye paused as the server put a basket of warm bread on the table, then when the man walked away, she continued—“although Nanette wasn’t into that kind of lifestyle, she allowed Dr. Wraige tie her up and spank her. But nothing kinkier.”

  “You figure she was really okay with that?” Wally asked, tearing off a piece of the loaf. “And that it was enough for him?”

  “I have no idea.” Skye broke off her own slice. “It could have caused resentment on both their parts or it could have been the perfect solution. I don’t know either of them well enough to even guess.”

  “Wraige was certainly an interesting man. I’m guessing he had a lot of secrets.” Wally buttered his bread, then popped it into his mouth.

  “That reminds me—” Noticing that their server was approaching, Skye waited for the man to place their salads in front of them, ask if they needed anything else, acknowledge their refusal, and leave before she continued. “You mentioned getting a warrant to search Dr. Wraige’s office, and I know you processed the crime scene, but how about the rest of his house?”

  Wally moved his plate next to Skye’s. She began to pick off the items on her salad she didn’t like and put them on his, smiling at the cozy routine they’d formed as a couple.

  As she de-cucumbered her salad, Wally said, “I’m hoping to get a warrant for the residence as well, but the city attorney said we only had a fifty-fifty chance. It depends on the judge.”

  “Can’t the lawyer choose which judge he approaches?” Skye asked.

  Waiting for his answer, she forked a big bite of blue-cheese-drenched lettuce into her mouth. It tasted heavenly. Either the Roquefort dressing was exceptional or she was really hungry. Probably both.

  Wally watched her in amusement, then after sampling his own salad, said, “Stanley County only has three judges. Whoever is sitting Wednesday morning is the one we get.”

  “Shoot!” Skye shook her head. “It’s so much easier on CSI.”

  Once they were finished with their first course, the server cleared the table, refilled their drinks, then brought out their entrees. Skye nearly drooled as the man placed her New York strip in front of her. Next to the sizzling steak, a double baked potato oozed buttery goodness, and several stalks of asparagus glistened with olive oil.

  Wally had opted for the T-bone, but his side dishes were the same.

  “What do you know about Wraige’s secretary?” Wally asked, cutting a piece from his perfectly seared steak and popping it into his mouth.

  “Not much.” Skye wrinkled her brow, thinking. “Karolyn was the talk of the district when I first started working in the schools because she was sleeping with the superintendent. Then they broke up and she wasn’t a hot topic anymore. I haven’t heard much about her for the past couple of years or so.”

  “You’re sure they broke it off? Could they have just kept it on the down low?” Wally ate half of his baked potato while Skye thought about her answer.

  Finally, she shook her head and said, “I doubt it.” She chewed a bite of steak, savoring the hints of rosemary, thyme, basil, and garlic, then explained, “First of all, Karolyn isn’t the subtle type. And second, she’s been on the prowl for another lover. I remember that she sort of blackmailed Uncle Charlie into taking her out.”

  “Blackmailed?” Wally polished off the last of his asparagus.

  “I can’t recall what it was exactly. He wanted something and she got it for him.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Both Skye and Wally focused on their food until Wally pushed away his empty plate and Skye followed suit. She was stuffed.

  “Is there anything you can think of about the vic or his son or his wife?” Wally signaled the server and asked for the dessert menus. Once they were delivered and the waiter walked to another table, he said, “Has there been any talk about Wraige having a substantial trust fund?”

  “None. But that explains his expensive house, car, and coin collection.” Skye scanned the list of tempting treats. “That reminds me, did you figure out the value of the coins that are missing?”

  “I did.” Wally read from his memo pad. “Most were in the hundred-to-two-hundred-dollar range. However, there was an uncirculated 1916-D Mercury Dime. And according to Google, it could be worth up to forty thousand dollars.”

  Before Skye could respond, the server returned. She had intended to skip dessert, but although her mind said, Do crunches, her taste buds said, Eat cupcakes. So she caved in and asked for the mocha caramel ones.

  She’d do a few extra laps at the pool the next time she had a chance to take a morning swim at the high school. After all, sugar was plainly God’s way of saying he didn’t want her to be thin.

  Wally and Skye chatted about the pricey coins and the stolen items left at the pawnshop until the waiter returned.

  After he placed their desserts in front of them, the server poured decaf for each of them and left.

  Once Skye was sure he was out of earshot, she said, “This probably doesn’t mean anything, but did I mention that Dr. Wraige seemed under the weather Monday morning?”

  “In what way?” Wally mumbled around a mouthful of walnut turtle pie.

  “He was pale and sweaty.” Skye put down her fork. “And his face was a little gaunt, as if he’d lost some weight.”

  “Well since he wasn’t poisoned, he might have just been getting over the flu, or…” Wally stiffened. “We were thinking whoever shoved him into the cupid statue had to be pretty strong, but if he was weak from being sick, that’s a whole other ball game. I need to contact Doris Ann right now and make sure she checks that out.”

  “That reminds me,” Skye said, “are you releasing the cause of death or the details about the arrow?”

  “Definitely not.” Wally grimaced. “Hopefully, there won’t be any leaks from the lab or ME’s office.” His frown deepened. “In fact, I’ll remind Doris Ann of that and ask her to warn the crime techs.”

  As Wally made the call, Skye thoughtfully finished her cupcake. Something wasn’t right. She just couldn’t figure out what it was they were missing.

  Chapter 14

  Won’t You Be My Valentine?

  Wally opened one eye, peered at the bright red numbers displayed on his clock radio, and flung back the comforter. It was already seven fifteen and he had to be at the station by eight. Why hadn’t Skye gotten him up? Although a better question was how he’d managed to sleep through her a.m. routine?

  His wife might be the sweetest woman alive, but she was anything but quiet in the morning as she showered and dried her hair. Then there were the sounds of distress that seeped from her walk-in closet as she moaned about having nothing to wear.

  When they’d first gotten married, Wally had made the mistake of suggesting to Skye that if she showered the night before, her hair would be dry in the morning, thus saving her at least ten minutes. He’d also mentioned that it would be a good idea to choose her outfit before going to bed.

  Neither of his helpful hints had met with her approval. She’d scowled at him and muttered something about her hair not laying right if she slept on it. She’d also pointed out that unlike him, her job did not come with a uniform, thus the weather and her activities had
to be taken into consideration when she was deciding what to wear.

  Luckily, he’d bit his tongue and hadn’t mentioned that the next day’s temperature and her schedule were available to her before she went to bed. If he’d learned anything from his disastrous first marriage, it was when to shut up.

  With the minutes ticking by, Wally pushed those thoughts aside and leaped out of bed, then hurried into the adjoining bathroom. He quickly washed his face, brushed his teeth, ran an electric razor over his stubble, and combed his hair.

  Skye had been right about the convenience of wearing a uniform. He didn’t have to waste a second choosing his wardrobe. Donning the navy pants, navy long-sleeved shirt, necktie, and black leather oxford shoes, Wally was set.

  He vaguely remembered Skye mentioning that she had an early meeting at the elementary school, so he wasn’t at all surprised to find only Dorothy occupying the kitchen. Wally’s resolve to skip breakfast flew out the window when he sniffed the air and realized that she was frying bacon.

  They’d just received their monthly shipment from Pederson’s Natural Farms, and that company’s uncured cherrywood smoked bacon was the best. Wally grabbed his favorite Bubba insulated stainless steel mug from the cupboard, put it in place on the coffee maker’s drip tray base, popped in a dark roast K-Cup, and pushed start. No way was he letting a single strip of that bacon go to waste.

  “Morning, Chief.” Dorothy looked up from the stove. “How do you want your eggs?”

  “Good morning. Whatever way’s easiest,” Wally answered as he waited for his cup to fill.

  Dorthey nodded and turned back to her cooking. “Scrambled coming right up.”

  A few minutes later, Dorothy slid a plate in front of him. Thanking her, he buttered his toast and dug into his meal.

  “Skye told me that the school district superintendent bought the farm yesterday.” Dorothy was a no-nonsense woman with a wicked sense of humor. “I’m betting you have a truckload of suspects for that murder.”

  Last night, around ten o’clock, Wally had gotten a phone call from Kathryn Steele, owner of the Scumble River Star, the town’s weekly newspaper. She’d somehow found out about the Wraige homicide and advised him the story would be in Wednesday’s paper.

  With the story appearing in the paper, there was no longer any reason to try to keep the superintendent’s death by unnatural causes quiet, so Wally had given Skye the go-ahead to text her mom and tell her that she could give Charlie a heads-up before the whole town was talking about it.

  Kathryn Steele had also requested a quote from Wally regarding the case. Although he knew that wouldn’t satisfy the journalist for long, he’d given her the standard line—the police are unable to comment on an ongoing investigation.

  Kathryn had keep pressuring him for information that she could include in next week’s edition until he finally had hung up on her. He could only hope she didn’t get anything about the cause of death or any other details from someone else. He was sure that Doris Ann would keep quiet but not as confident in the rest of the forensic staff’s discretion.

  Swallowing a mouthful of fluffy eggs, Wally refocused on Dorothy and asked, “What makes you think there’ll be a lot of suspects?”

  “Well…” Dorothy shrugged, suddenly finding the pan she was washing fascinating. “You know, for one, his kinky personal life.”

  “Right. I forgot you knew about that.” Wally picked up a slice of crispy bacon. “You said for one. What are the other reasons?”

  “He ran the school district like it was his own personal kingdom.” Dorothy dried her hands and put them on her hips. “He figured out people’s weaknesses and used them against them.”

  “Oh?” Wally was surprised Skye hadn’t mentioned anything about that, but she had said that she had very little to do with the man.

  “He pretty much leaves the teachers alone because they have a union, but support personnel are hung out to dry.” Dorothy made herself a cup of coffee, then joined Wally at the table. “Not too long ago, Wraige really screwed the district’s bus drivers.”

  “How so?” Wally stopped eating, took out his memo pad, and waited.

  “He makes sure they are kept part-time so they get no benefits.” Dorothy sipped her coffee. “But worst of all, they’re not allowed to discipline the kids and he doesn’t back them up when parents complain that their little darlings were bullied by other kids and the driver didn’t do anything about it.”

  “Was any particular driver unhappy with him?” Wally asked.

  He wrinkled his brow. How many drivers did the school employ? The district included quite a few miles of far-flung rural territory and all those farm kids would have to be bussed into town to attend classes.

  Dorothy shrugged. “I’ve heard grumbling from a lot of them.” She pursed her lips. “But if I were investigating, I’d look at the last one fired. I can’t recall his name or what exactly happened, but there was definitely a ruckus around the guy’s dismissal.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Wally resumed eating, then realized Dorothy was still looking at him. He swallowed and asked. “Someone else?”

  “Rumor has it that he’d been seeing a lot of Neva Llewellyn lately.”

  “Seeing her as in dating?” Wally had met the junior high principal on several occasions and from what Skye said about her and his own impressions, she didn’t strike him as someone willing to be the other woman.

  “I doubt Neva would have an affair with him.” Dorothy made a face. “But they had been having heaps of closed-door meetings in his office.”

  “How do you know that?” Wally finished his breakfast, got up and put the plate in the dishwasher.

  Dorothy followed Wally, took the plate out of the dishwater and rinsed it off. “Karolyn’s in my bowling league and I overheard her telling one of her cronies that Neva had been meeting with Wraige a couple times a week since winter break.”

  “Interesting.” Wally refilled his travel mug and snapped on the lid. “Thanks for breakfast and the tips.”

  Once he was in his Hummer, he hit the remote for the opener, then dug out his cell phone. While he waited for the door to rise, he sent a quick text to Skye asking her to call him when she had a chance. Maybe she knew, or could find out, why the junior high principal had been meeting so often with the superintendent.

  Among the advantages of living in a small town was the short, traffic-free commute to work, and Wally arrived at the station within minutes of leaving home. He parked the Hummer in the attached garage, noting that the K-9 modified police vehicle was missing from its usual spot. Evidently, Martinez was already on duty.

  After checking with the dispatcher to see if he had any messages and picking up the midnight shifts’ logs, Wally headed upstairs to his office. He was a few minutes late, but Dorothy had given him some great leads, so he wasn’t too worried about it. At least not until Dante barged through his door, huffing like a penguin-shaped dragon.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Hizzoner demanded, tapping his watch.

  “Gathering information regarding yesterday’s homicide.” Wally sat behind his desk, put down the papers he’d been carrying, and took a leisurely sip from his travel mug. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Yes. You can wrap up this case toot sweet.” Dante scowled. “Kathryn Steele had the nerve to call me last night to demand a statement. And since you hadn’t bothered to inform me that our beloved school superintendent had been murdered, I sounded like a fool.”

  “Hmm.” Wally refrained from mentioning that Hizzoner was perfectly capable of sounding like a fool even when he was fully up-to-date and instead explained, “You told me never to bother you at home unless Scumble River was about to be invaded by terrorists or aliens.” Wally calmly continued to savor his coffee. “By the time we finished with the next-of-kin notifications, I would have had to interrupt your dinner to ad
vise you on the case. I figured this morning was soon enough.”

  “You figured wrong.” Dante glared, then seeming to realize he was standing while Wally was comfortably ensconced behind his desk, he plopped down in one of the visitor chairs and ordered, “Fill me in.”

  Wally summarized finding the body and the missing coins. He gave the mayor the minimum amount of information that he could get away with revealing and wasn’t surprised when Dante demanded more.

  At Wally’s silence, Hizzoner narrowed his beady eyes and said, “If there are burglars in my town who aren’t afraid to kill people, I need to know about it.”

  “I’m not completely convinced that the homicide was committed by some random thief.” Wally leaned forward. “And by keeping the details quiet, you won’t have to face concerned citizens afraid they’re about to be murdered in their beds.”

  Dante sagged back in his chair. “Why can’t things ever be simple with you or your nosy wife?”

  Wally narrowed his eyes. Insulting Skye was a hot button for him. But he’d learned that the first step in staying calm was recognizing that the person you were upset with was born an idiot and couldn’t help himself.

  Dante fidgeted under Wally’s lethal stare and flinched when the telephone rang. On the second ring, when Wally made no move to answer it, Dante jumped to his feet and scurried to the door.

  Just before exiting, he leveled his finger at Wally and commanded, “From now on keep me informed. Even if it is after hours.”

  Wally gave Hizzoner a curt nod, then deliberately turned his head away and scooped up the receiver. “Chief Boyd speaking.”

  “Chief, we got the warrant for the school administration office. I’m sending a copy to your phone.” Neal Boulder, the city attorney, had initially sounded jubilant, but now his tone changed. “The judge wouldn’t okay the residence though.”

  Neal’s high-pitched voice grated on Wally’s ear and he quickly asked, “Anything we can do to change that decision?”