“It’s the law of dinner-table attendance.” Wally chuckled. “Cats must be present at any meal where there is anything even remotely appetizing being served.”
“Well, Bingo’s not getting any scraps.” Skye shook her finger at the beseeching feline. “His vet says he’s gaining weight again and somebody must be feeding him extra.” She tilted her head at Wally. “Either it’s you or Dorothy, because it isn’t me.”
“I plead the Fifth.” Wally kept his eyes focused on his plate.
“Tell that to the veterinarian at Bingo’s next checkup.” Skye ate a couple of bites, then asked, “Did Blair’s folks ever return your call?”
“Yes. Just as I was leaving the station, which is why I was late.”
“When are they flying out here to pick up their daughter’s body?” Skye asked.
“They aren’t.” Wally shook his head. “It seems they were estranged from Blair. Once the ME releases her, they’ll arrange her burial, but that’s it.”
“Oh.” Skye put down her fork. The polenta had formed a lump in her stomach. “Did they say what happened to make them feel that way?”
“They refused to discuss it. All they would say was that her actions had forced them to disown her.”
CHAPTER 10
TMI—Too Much Information
After they’d eaten, Wally went upstairs to change out of his uniform, and now, as he entered the sunroom where Skye was sitting, she asked, “What in the world did she do?”
“Who?” While they cleaned up the kitchen, their conversation had turned to family and household matters, so at her abrupt question, Wally looked puzzled.
“Blair.” Skye chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’ve been trying to think of what I could possibly do that would make my parents not only disown me, but refuse to bring my body back home.”
“All Mr. Hucksford would say was that his daughter’s behavior was unacceptable to them.”
“Hmm.” Skye thought about all that statement could imply. “What do Mr. and Mrs. Hucksford do for a living?”
When Wally headed for his recliner, Skye tugged him down onto the settee and cuddled against the soft fabric of his T-shirt, inhaling the scent of Downy.
“He’s the principal of Hucksford Christian Academy and she’s the kindergarten teacher,” Wally said. “Blair’s sister, Bernadette, is the school secretary, and her husband is the PE instructor.”
“So it’s a family endeavor.” Skye pursed her lips. “Maybe the estrangement was because Blair took a job at a different school.”
“That would be a fairly extreme reaction to a career choice.”
“Maybe not.” Skye held up her index finger. “First, taking the Scumble River job meant she lived thousands of miles away from home.” Skye added another finger. “Second, she chose to work in a secular versus religious school, which, depending on her parents’ beliefs, might be reason enough to shun her.” Skye wiggled three fingers at him. “And last, she . . . ah, fine, I don’t have a third reason, but I still think her teaching at Scumble River High versus Hucksford Christian Academy is important.”
“Possibly,” Wally conceded, but he sounded far from convinced. “Would you be up to calling Blair’s sister, Bernadette, to see if you can get her to tell you why her parents renounced Blair?”
“Sure.” Skye laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you have her number?”
“It’s upstairs in my shirt pocket.” Wally put his arm around Skye. “I’ll put it in your purse before we go to bed tonight.”
“Was there anything in the medical examiner’s preliminary report that might help the investigation?” Skye had held off discussing the case until Wally was fed and had had a chance to relax, but he appeared okay now.
“Not that I could see right off.” Wally scraped his hand over his face, clearly discouraged. “The ME concurs with Reid’s estimation that the vic died Monday night sometime between eleven and midnight—give or take a little on either end, since we aren’t sure how fast the pool cooled off after the power outage.”
“That reminds me of something I wanted to ask you but forgot to mention when I called you after school,” Skye said. “Did Homer tell you that ConEd claimed there were no problems on their end?”
“No.” Wally frowned. “Knapik never spoke to me at all. As far as I know, he didn’t have any contact with the police or the techs.”
“Even though he said he would, I was afraid he wouldn’t bother to inform you since, when I brought it up to him, he insisted the information wasn’t important. But it made me wonder if the killer somehow monkeyed with the electricity, hoping that would interfere with any investigation.”
“Son of a buck! Homer Knapik is a useless piece of crap. That could be a vital piece of the puzzle.” Wally leaned forward and searched around the coffee table until he found a pen among the clutter scattered across the glass top. He rummaged through the flotsam and jetsam until Skye reached into a magazine rack by her side of the love seat and handed him a legal pad. Flipping to a clean page, he smiled and said, “Thanks for checking up on Knapik, darlin’. You always know exactly what I need.”
“I try.” Skye smiled fondly at the man she loved more each day that she was married to him. She was so fortunate to have made the right choice of husbands.
Wally scribbled, then said, “The problem with finding any forensics in the gym/locker room/pool area is that unless the murderer is someone who has no business in the school, their prints and DNA have a legitimate reason for being in those places.”
“But only the custodian has any reason to be in the boiler room.”
“Exactly.” Wally nodded. “I need to call the crime-scene techs and get them over to the school ASAP, before any evidence that might be there is lost.” He got up to use the telephone in the kitchen. Cell reception was poor in the big old house. “I’ll be right back. Do you want anything?”
“No.” Skye shook her head. “I’m still full from supper.” She hesitated. “Well, maybe some ice cream.” As he took a couple of steps, she added, “With some caramel sauce . . . and whipped cream.”
His laughter floated back toward her as he walked away. While she waited for her dessert, she thought about how lucky she was. She’d never expected to find such a wonderful guy or to be this happy.
Picking up the remote, she turned on the television to see tomorrow’s weather forecast. Just as the meteorologist appeared on the screen, Bingo leaped onto the TV stand. Skye got up and nudged him, but the big black cat refused to budge. She tried to push him aside, but he dug his back claws into the wood.
She was still trying to shove the cat out of the way when Wally returned with two dishes of ice cream. He grinned at her efforts and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Bingo is blocking the television.” Skye gave up, clicked off the TV, and took a seat next to her husband.
Wally handed Skye her bowl, then dug into his. As he ate, he looked from where the unperturbed feline was sitting with his hind leg extended straight into the air while he washed his nether regions and said, “Darlin’, I’m pretty dang sure that Mr. Cat doesn’t think he’s blocking the view. He thinks he is the view.”
“You’re probably right.” Skye laughed, then asked, “Anything else from the ME’s report? Trixie didn’t have any specifics, or at least none she admitted to knowing.”
“Cause of death is drowning, but the chlorine would have washed away any other physical evidence, so there wasn’t much to go on.” Wally blew out a frustrated breath. “There were some gouges in the vic’s scalp. The ME’s working theory is that at some point after being Tasered, Blair regained some muscle control, at least enough for her to make her way to the surface of the pool. And at that point, the killer held her head under the water until she stopped struggling.”
“Was she raped?” Skye’s stomach clenched at the thought, but she had to ask
. “Or would the chlorine make it impossible to tell?”
“You’re thinking because she was there so late that she was with someone,” Wally said.
“Yes.” Skye wrinkled her brow. “Maybe a date that went wrong.”
“There were no signs of forced sex. No tearing or bruising,” Wally said in a clinical tone. “And any evidence of consensual intercourse would have been lost because she was in the water so long. First thing tomorrow I’ll be checking to see if the boyfriend has an alibi and if their relationship was exclusive.”
“Today at school, Thor seemed worried about her.” Skye told Wally what the physical education teacher had said about Blair’s absence.
“Did he seem sincere?” Wally put down his empty ice cream bowl and made another note, then looked at Skye and asked, “Or did the guy seem more like he was trying to establish his innocence?”
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin. “He seemed sincere at the time.”
“Anything else you overheard or noticed at the school today?”
“Not today.” Skye savored the last bite of caramel-covered ice cream. “But according to Trixie, Blair wasn’t very popular with most of the other staff. Some of the faculty disliked her because she poached kids from their sports teams, and others weren’t fond of her because of her abrasive personality.” Skye hesitated, then added, “Again, according to Trixie, some parents had problems with Blair, too. And she never ate lunch in the teachers’ lounge.”
“That’s good info. Since we wanted to keep the victim’s identity a secret, we weren’t able to question the teachers today about Blair. I’m sure tomorrow, when we start interviewing her colleagues, we’ll get an earful.” Wally smiled as he wrote down Skye’s observations. “Any idea what the parents’ issues with the vic might have been?”
“When I stopped at the Clean Bee,” Skye said, tilting her head, “I had an interesting conversation about that with the man in front of me in line. His daughter’s the captain of the volleyball team, and he gave me an earful about Blair and the other parents.”
“Seriously?” Wally chuckled. “You really have to love a small town.”
“Well, I’m not sure how helpful this will be, but the man mentioned that Blair had really turned the volleyball team around.” Skye’s face lit up. “It was nice hearing something positive about Blair, since my own experience with her was so negative.”
“What did this guy say about the parents who didn’t like her?” Wally asked.
“All he said was that even though she’d improved the team’s performance, some folks were unhappy with her methods because she demanded so much of the girls’ time.” Skye twitched her shoulders. “But my guess is that in addition to that issue, there were parents whose daughters got cut from the team who were unhappy with her decisions. Especially since I sincerely doubt she was nice when she informed the girls they hadn’t made the squad.”
“Sounds a lot like my experience playing baseball and football in high school.” Wally rolled his eyes. “Parents can be extremely competitive about their kids’ participation in sports.”
“So I hear.” Skye made a face, then used her finger to get the last of the whipped cream from the bottom of her dish. Catching Wally’s amused look, she blushed and put the empty bowl next to his.
“It’s really helpful having you in the school, where you can gather information. What you’ve told me tonight might be the lead we need to find the killer.” Wally went back to making notes. “At least now we have somewhere to start the investigation.”
This was it. Skye needed to talk to him about her worries. She cleared her throat and said, “I’ve been thinking about whether or not I should change some things now that I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” Wally put down the notepad he’d been using, turned toward her, and kissed her on the cheek. “What kind of changes are you thinking about making?”
“Like maybe I should take a leave of absence from the PD until after I have the baby.” She rested her palm on her stomach. “I don’t want to do anything that might be a risk for Juniorette.”
“Of course not. And I don’t want you to either.” He stroked her belly with his fingers. “You need to do whatever makes you comfortable.”
“I called my doctor this afternoon,” Skye confessed. “She said that bringing up Blair’s body from the pool and doing CPR didn’t endanger the baby. She said it was okay for me to continue with all my normal activities.”
“That’s great.” Wally caressed her jaw with his thumb. “Calling her was a good idea.”
“Do you think I shouldn’t take part in this investigation?” Skye looked at him from under her lashes, trying to gauge his reaction. “It’s your baby, too, so you should have an equal vote.”
“Pregnant or not pregnant, I never want to see you in danger.”
“I know.” Skye kept her face down so he couldn’t read the uncertainty in her eyes. “And I appreciate how you’ve always tried to keep me safe, without smothering me or being overprotective.”
“But I don’t think it’s in your nature to be indifferent to others’ problems.” Wally cupped her cheek. “You need to help people. To be involved in life. Neither of us wants to go down that slippery slope of becoming a helicopter parent or turning into your mother. We’ll just make sure that you have plenty of help with the baby. Maybe hire a nanny.”
“Maybe, but I’m not ready to think about that yet. Once we announce that I’m pregnant, we can figure out the rest.” Skye turned her face and kissed his palm. This was a big part of why she knew she loved Wally and not Simon and why she had married him. Simon’s insistence that she be as coldly logical as he was drove her nuts. Wally accepted her for who she was, with no desire to change her, and that made her feel cherished.
When she didn’t speak, Wally continued. “Regarding your role as psych consultant to the PD, how about we play it by ear? Do only what you’re comfortable with on this case. Take a pass on anything that makes you nervous without any feelings of guilt.”
“That sounds good.” She could barely force the words past the lump in her throat. Wally was so sweet. He always knew what to say and how to say it to comfort her. She smiled and tried to lighten the moment. “But I’m Catholic, so I always feel guilty.”
“Not a totally bad thing.” Wally grinned. “Keeps you on the right path.”
“You are so not funny.” Skye whacked him on the arm, then turned serious and said, “Making calls and keeping my ears open at school is no problem. I just don’t want to get into a situation with a suspect that might turn physical or get out of control.”
“We’ll just make sure to do any suspect interviews I’d like your help with at the PD.” Wally nestled Skye against his side.
“Good.” Skye let out the breath she’d been holding. “I may not have liked Blair very much, but no one should be able to get away with murder.”
CHAPTER 11
FYEO—For Your Eyes Only
Seven a.m. the next morning, Skye slid into her Bel Air and pulled out of the garage. Worst luck, the Chevy’s faulty lights had been easy to fix. Darn! It had taken her father only a couple of hours to find the short and repair it, so she was once again forced to use her own car. After tooling around in Wally’s cool T-bird, driving the ’57 Bel Air felt like she was maneuvering a float down Fifth Avenue in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
On the bright side, she didn’t feel nauseated. When she’d woken up, it had taken her a few minutes to realize she wasn’t queasy. But after getting out of bed, and for the first time in a couple of months not having to race to the bathroom, she’d felt as if she’d won the lottery. And not a puny scratch-off—the multimillion-dollar Powerball.
Skye wiggled happily on the roomy bench seat of the Bel Air. Maybe the morning sickness was over and she was finally into the glowing part of the pregnancy that she’d read so much about in ro
mance novels.
It was good to have something encouraging happen at the beginning of what would be a tough day. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensation for a few seconds; then her monkey mind whirled into action and she thumped her hand on the steering wheel. Hell’s bells! She’d forgotten to order the rubber duckies for Trixie’s race.
Okay. She’d do it as soon as she got to her office. What else had she overlooked in the aftermath of yesterday’s turmoil? Let’s see . . . She had an after-school meeting with the student newspaper staff to rope them into helping with the race, but that was it. There wasn’t anything more that she’d promised to do for the fund-raiser. Right?
She certainly hoped not. Today was already going to be a busy one without adding any more items to her to-do list. After talking to Blair’s parents, Wally had released the identity of the victim and given a brief statement to Kathy Steel, who had hurriedly squeezed the breaking news into today’s Scumble River Star.
Just their luck that the weekly newspaper came out on Wednesdays and Kathy had been able to get the item in before the issue went to press. Everyone with a subscription would read about the murder over breakfast. Those folks would immediately phone any friends who didn’t get the paper delivered to their doorstep and fill them in on the latest gossip. That meant by now most townspeople knew that Blair was dead and that foul play was suspected.
Thankfully, after a student’s death a few years ago, Skye had written up a crisis-intervention procedure. Since before Skye had been hired, neither a social worker nor a psychologist had ever remained in the employment of the Scumble River school district for more than a year, no one had ever bothered to create an emergency plan. At the time of that earlier sad incident, Skye’d had to make it up on the fly. At least now she had a strategy in place to handle the shock and grief of the staff and students.
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