“You’re not coming in?” May asked, her tone conveying her surprise.
Wally walked to the fridge, grabbed a Sam Adams and a bottle of wine. “I have every confidence that the sergeant can handle this without me.” He opened the beer and poured a glass of the zinfandel for Skye. “Quirk knows to call me if he has any questions.”
When Wally disconnected, he sat down, took a swig of beer, and as if he hadn’t just been informed that a murder victim’s car had been found, he commented, “This salad looks great.”
“Thanks.” While Skye had listened to the exchange, she’d placed the pasta in the boiling water and put the bowl on the table. “It’s spring greens, red onion, cherry tomatoes, and Italian dressing with some freshly grated parmesan cheese and some sliced pepperoncini peppers on top to give it a little bite.”
Wally helped himself, then forked some into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “It’s terrific.”
She waited for Wally to say something about the phone call, and when he didn’t, she said, “I’m glad you didn’t have to go to the scene.”
“I was tempted, and I’ll check it out tomorrow morning, but let’s face it, there won’t be any useable evidence. And if by some miracle there is, the crime techs will find it before I would.”
“True.” Skye thought about the situation while she ate her salad. “I appreciate you keeping the promise you made to limit your work hours, but I don’t want to stand in the way of your duty.”
“Darlin’.” Wally’s warm brown eyes met hers. “You and the babies are my duty.” He took her hand. “If there were a body in the car or if one of my less experienced people were on shift, I’d go. But the car was stolen the day before the homicide and Quirk’s a seasoned officer.”
“You’re right.” Skye got up, drained the pasta, and mixed it into the veggie-laden sauce. This was a more nutritious, but she hoped just as enjoyable, version of spaghetti. “How about so I don’t feel guilty, we go over the evidence you do have for Dr. Wraige’s murder?”
“That’s a good idea.” Wally rose to his feet. “I’ll get the file and a couple of legal pads and pens while you put the food on the table.”
By the time he returned, Skye had their plates full of pasta and a basket of garlic bread between them. While she was waiting, she’d tried a bite of the entrée and was pleased with the results of the new recipe. She was willing to eat healthier, but it had to taste as good as the original dish. An added plus, there was more than enough for a second meal. She’d tell Frannie and Justin to help themselves tomorrow night while they were babysitting.
Wally resumed his seat and told her what he and Zelda had found at the Wraige house, then read her the results of Doris Ann’s autopsy.
“Nicotine,” Skye muttered. “I would never have guessed that in a million years. Is there any chance he ingested the tobacco by accident?”
“That’s extremely doubtful.” Wally forked pasta into his mouth and chewed. Then after swallowing, he explained, “The lab found traces of nicotine in the crumbs on the paper muffin cups, so it’s a good bet that was how the vic was ingesting the stuff. They also found only Nanette’s fingerprints on the tampons.”
“So if we agree that Nanette was deliberately feeding her husband the tobacco from the stash you found in her tampon box, how did she make sure no one else ate those muffins?” While she mulled over the scenario, Skye took a sip of her wine, then thunked the glass down on the table and said, “Unless they were all in on it.”
“That’s certainly a possibility.” Wally pursed his lips, then shook his head. “But Doris Ann informed me that the nicotine would have made him feel ill, but it wouldn’t have killed him.”
“Interesting.” Skye tilted her head, then asked, “Have you received anything else from the forensics at the scene?”
“I got the lab report a few minutes before I left the station.” Wally flipped through pages. “It contained the info on the muffin wrapper and also that the fingerprints on the coffee cups in the master suite sitting room were the vic’s, Nanette’s, and Colleen’s.”
“That’s strange.” Skye took another sip of wine. “Considering that the bus driver told you he overheard a shouting match between Nanette and Dr. Wraige about him coming on to her friend.”
“Exactly.” Wally continued, “The only fingerprints on the sex photos of Colleen and the baggie with the marijuana dregs were the vic’s.”
“That’s even stranger.” Skye ate a few bites of her meal. “It could mean that Colleen never even knew they were in the nightstand’s false bottom.” Skye chewed thoughtfully. “But why would Dr. Wraige have them, and why would he put them in her room?”
“Another good point.” Wally smiled. “Although from everything that I’ve learned about him, he was a manipulative son of a bull snot. So the question might be what would he gain by planting those in her room?”
“Not to mention”—Skye narrowed her eyes—“how did they get in his possession?”
Wally shrugged. “My best guest would be a private investigator.”
“Or…” Skye straightened. “Maybe he had his son do it as sort of a preemployment test.” Before Wally could comment, she continued, “And maybe Dr. Wraige put them in the guest room, so Nanette wouldn’t find them. Also, if Colleen was aware of the pictures and searching for them, her own room would be the last place she’d look.”
Wally continued to eat, then said, “We need to figure out when the snapshots were taken and how long Tavish has been out of the service.”
Skye nodded, then said, “Let’s put that aside for now and discuss the spate of break-ins at the Wraiges’ house. I’m convinced that the burglaries somehow have to be a part of the whole scenario.”
“Why is that?” Wally took a long pull from his bottle of beer.
“First, only Dr. Wraige’s stuff was stolen.” Skye waited for Wally’s nod, then continued, “Second, he seemed to be the only one getting the tobacco muffins. And third, he’s the one who ended up dead.”
“Okay,” Wally said slowly. “We also should take into consideration that everything that was stolen was discarded, even the car, and the only fingerprints found on any of the items were the vic’s and his son’s.”
“What were Tavish’s prints on?” Skye asked.
Wally flipped through a few sheets of paper in the file. “The jewelry box and its contents, minus the pocket watch, which were left on the steps of the pawnshop, were wiped clean.”
“Okay.” Skye tapped her nails on the tabletop. “But that’s not what I asked.”
Wally continued, evidently unperturbed by her impatience. “However, the watch that was found either tossed away or dropped by trees near the cemetery had Tavish’s thumbprint inside the back lid.”
“Back lid?”
“Yes,” Wally explained. “You might not have noticed, but not only did the front open up to reveal the watch face, the back also was hinged to expose the mechanical movements.”
“Interesting that Tavish’s print was on it,” Skye mused.
“The ties were never found,” Wally continued. “But if I had to guess, whoever took those just burned them or threw them in the trash. The coin collection abandoned at that dealer in Joliet was also wiped clean.”
“Hmm.” Skye bit her lip. “And the car could have easily been sold to a chop shop for a pretty penny, but instead it was driven into the river, where it was probably supposed to sink out of sight and be gone forever.”
Wally ran his hands through his hair. “The thief never tried to sell any of it. So why would someone go to the trouble of staging a break-in and stealing stuff, and then just get rid of it?”
“The same reason someone would poison a person with a nonlethal substance.” Skye tapped her chin. “To make the victim miserable.”
“The way Wraige died suggests that whoever murdered him might not hav
e intended to kill him.” Wally spread out his hands. “The vic and the murderer got into a tussle and the murderer pushed him. Then, in his weakened state from the nicotine poisoning, Wraige stumbled back and was pierced by cupid’s arrow.”
“The murder never seemed premediated to me.” Skye pushed away her empty plate. “If we take into consideration that all the stolen items were basically thrown away, and you told me that the security cameras were always disabled or obscured, I just can’t see the thief being an outsider.”
“I agree.” Wally got up and began to clear away the dirty dishes.
“Which means that the killer and the burglar has to be one of the three people living in his house.” Skye joined Wally at the sink. “But which one?”
Wally turned around, leaned back against the counter, and crossed his arms. “I have no idea. I’m as confused as a chameleon in a bag of M&Ms.”
“Well, even if we knew who it was, we’d still have to prove it.” Skye turned on the water and started rinsing the plates as she said to Wally, “You might as well make some coffee because I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.”
Chapter 25
Silly Love Songs
The next morning, Skye checked to see if the twins were still sleeping, thankfully they were, then walked into the kitchen and headed straight to the Keurig. She and Wally had discussed the various scenarios on and off all evening. When they’d finally given up and went to bed, they still hadn’t come up with a definitive answer as to who murdered the superintendent.
“We have to figure out which of the three suspects have the most motive to want Wraige dead,” Wally said as Skye popped a K-Cup into place, positioned her mug on the tray, and pushed the button.
Staring at the machine, Skye pushed her hair out of her face and asked, “But if it was an accident, then what does motive have to do with it?”
She was attempting to follow the conversation Wally had started as soon as she opened her eyes. Unlike her annoying rise-and-shine husband who leaped out of bed running on all cylinders, she needed a little jump start before she could think straight.
“It may have been an accident.” Wally poured cereal into his bowl and doused it with milk. “But Doris Ann said that if whoever pushed him had called an ambulance, he might have been saved.”
Skye frowned. “So either they left him to die or watched him bleed out.”
The Keurig gave one last gurgle and Skye snatched up her cup. After adding her favorite French vanilla creamer and two packets of sugar substitute, she took a healthy sip and tried to get her brain to work.
“Yep.” Wally ate his Cap’n Crunch, then said, “Who can we get to watch the twins? I’ll need you at the station for the interviews.”
One thing they had decided last night was that they needed to get all three suspects down to the station and interrogate them until one of them confessed. But Dorothy was off on the weekends and one of Skye’s biggest no-nos was asking the housekeeper to work on Saturday or Sunday.
“Everyone’s busy. Mom and Trixie are getting gussied up for the big dance.” Skye toasted an English muffin and joined Wally at the table. “They booked a spa day over in Laurel.”
“How about Judy?” Wally asked. “She’s watched the twins a few times.”
“She’s going to Naperville to have the final fitting on her bridal gown.” Skye scrunched up her face in thought. “That leaves your dad, but we asked him to sit for the kids once already this week.”
“Dad’s got a business meeting in Chicago.” Wally finished his cereal and drank the remaining milk.
“Frannie and Justin have appointments with florists and DJs. While they’re home, they want to get a lot of details finalized for their wedding.” Skye spread marmalade on her muffin and licked her fingers. “They’re coming over at four.” Before Wally could speak, Skye pointed her finger at him and said, “Don’t even think about it, mister. I need every second of those two hours to get ready before we leave for the dance.”
“You really don’t.” Wally leaned across the table and gave her a sweet kiss. “You’re beautiful without all that makeup and hairspray.” Skye narrowed her eyes and he hurriedly added, “But if that makes you happy, we should get the interviews going as soon as possible so you won’t feel rushed and you’ll have time to relax.”
“Then I guess the kids are coming with us.” Skye got up and walked over to the sink. “How about Dr. Wraige’s car? Did they get it towed last night?”
“They did, and the crime tech I spoke to said there was no evidence on shore or in the car.” Wally rubbed his chin. “The interior was wiped clean.”
“Shoot!” Skye rinsed her cup and plate and put them in the dishwasher, then returned to the table with a damp cloth to wipe up the crumbs.
“I’m going to start calling our suspects and getting them lined up to come into the police station.” Wally took his cell phone from the case hanging off his utility belt.
Wally was already wearing his uniform. Another difference between her husband and Skye was that if she wasn’t leaving the house, she’d be happy to stay in her jammies all day. He, on the other hand, immediately showered and put on clothes.
Wally opened the file he had sitting near his coffee mug, but Skye held out a finger to stop him, then said, “What would you think about interviewing the three of them together?” She narrowed her eyes. “It might be interesting to see how they respond to each other’s answers, and one might throw the others under the bus.”
“I like your idea, but let’s talk to them each individually first, then bring them together.” Wally flipped through the folder’s contents and muttered, “Where in the heck did I put their phone numbers? Ah. There they are.”
Before he could start dialing, she asked, “How can you be sure they’ll come into the station this morning?” She wasn’t getting dressed until she knew they were really going into work.
“Generally, innocent people want to help catch the bad guys.” Wally grinned. “And the one who did it is usually worried that if they fail to cooperate with the police, he or she will look guilty.”
Skye watched as her gorgeous husband tapped the numbers into his phone. She was still awed at how wonderful everything had turned out for her after her mortifying return to Scumble River. Coming back to her hometown broke and broken, she would have never believed that she could be this happy. And she was always secretly a tiny bit terrified that it might all disappear before her very eyes.
She and Wally had been through so much to be with each other, and one of her strongest wishes was that they would be able to grow old together. She never forgot for a single solitary moment how blessed she was to have him and the babies in her life.
While she’d been lost in thought, evidently Wally’s call had been answered because she heard him identify himself and say, “Mrs. Wraige, I’d like to bring you up to speed on your husband’s murder investigation. Would you be able to meet me at the Scumble River Police Department?” He paused for her answer, then said, “Say in about an hour?” Another pause. “Okay, two hours is fine. See you then.”
After Wally disconnected, Skye beamed. “It was clever that you framed the interview as a way to inform her of the case’s progress.”
He smirked. “I always use that for family members who are suspects.”
“It didn’t seem as if she was reluctant to talk to you,” Skye commented.
“Nope. In fact, she sounded eager.” He shook his head. “And it also sounds as if Colleen will be accompanying her. I could hear her friend in the background insisting that Nanette not come in alone.”
“Well played.” Skye applauded. “You reeled in two fish with one worm.” She poked his arm. “Now you just need to get Tav on the hook.”
“I’ll take care of that now.”
“Okay. I’ll throw on some clothes and comb my hair. Once I’m dressed
, we better get the twins ready.”
“Sounds good.” Wally turned his attention back to his phone, and Skye hurried toward the master suite.
When she returned wearing navy slacks and a matching twin set, Wally had already fed and gotten the twins into matching outfits. While he put on their coats and got them into their car seats, Skye packed their diaper bag.
Five minutes later, they were pulling into the police station lot. Skye parked the Mercedes and Wally jumped out. He retrieved the twin stroller frame from the SUV’s rear compartment, brought it to the back seat, detached CJ’s car seat, and clicked it into place, then did the same with Eva. Skye slung the diaper bag over her shoulders and followed Wally as he pushed the stroller toward the front entrance.
While they walked, Skye remembered she hadn’t asked about Dr. Wraige’s stepson and touched Wally’s arm. “Did Tavish agree to come in this morning?”
“Yep. Once he heard that I intended to speak to his stepmother”—Wally turned and gave Skye a wolfish grin—“wild horses couldn’t keep him away. In fact, he insisted on talking to us before she arrived.”
“Fantastic.” Skye beamed at Wally, then greeted Betty Houmas, the weekend dispatcher who was standing behind the counter.
Betty buzzed open the door leading to the back of the building, then met Skye and Wally as they stepped into the hallway and said, “Would you like me to keep an eye on those cuties while you two interview the folks you’ve got coming into the station?”
Wally stiffened. “How do you know we’re here to talk to people about the case?”
“You told Roy, and he asked me to get the break room cleaned up.”
“In that case”—Wally relaxed—“we’d be much obliged if you’d watch them.”
Body Over Troubled Waters Page 23