Risé held up a finger. “The first parking offense is a fifty-dollar fine—per car.” She held up another finger. “The second offense is a hundred dollars.” A final finger joined the other two. “And the third is impoundment.”
“Again, so?” Hugo sneered. “There’s no way to prove how long my cars have been parked in the same space.”
“Isn’t there?” Risé smiled thinly. “Do you really want to take that risk?”
“There’s no risk involved.” Hugo shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you know who my father is?”
“Santa Claus?” Risé shrugged. “The Easter Bunny?” Her lip curled. “What? There will be a lump of coal in my stocking or I’m not getting any chocolate eggs in my basket?”
“You’re so funny.” Hugo narrowed his cool green eyes. “My father’s the mayor of Scumble River.” He jerked his thumb at Skye. “And my cousin, here, is engaged to the chief of police.”
Skye cringed and hurriedly said, “Not that I’d try to influence him in any legal matters.” She’d been hoping she and the bookstore owner could be friends. Besides, she really didn’t want to be aligned with Hugo.
“Of course not, cuz.” Hugo glanced at his watch. “Anything else? I’ve got to move some metal.” He made an impatient face. “Some of us need to make a living from our business.”
“What do you mean by that?” Risé demanded.
“Let’s just say”—Hugo smirked—“you’re not the only one who’s done a little investigating.”
A faint line dug between the bookstore owner’s brows but was instantly smoothed away. “Scum-sucking bastard,” she declared, then turned on her heel and marched into her shop.
“What was that all about?” Skye demanded.
But before Hugo could respond, Xenia stepped out of the building and said, “Ready to deal, dude?”
While Hugo and Xenia worked out the details of her purchase of the Volkswagen, Skye sat in Hugo’s office and thought about the encounter she had witnessed between her cousin and Risé Vaughn. So far Tales and Treats was two for two. Skye had had only two encounters concerning the shop, and both times the people concerned had a problem with the new business.
All in all, it was not looking like an auspicious beginning for the bookstore.
CHAPTER 3
Remembrance of Things Past
Once the purchase of the Beetle was completed, Skye followed Xenia home, driving the Craughwell family car, which Xenia had borrowed for her trip to Better Than New Autos. Once Skye parked the Sebring in the garage and got into the Volkswagen, Xenia suggested they stop for ice cream before she dropped Skye back at the high school.
“Sounds good.” Skye fastened her seat belt. “Don’t forget to buckle up.”
“Seat belts are too confining.” Xenia put the VW into gear.
“Not as confining as a wheelchair.”
Xenia harrumphed but clicked the belt into place.
“Wasn’t the warning bell bugging you on the drive over?” Skye asked, then realized she hadn’t heard the irritating dinging when she got into the vehicle.
“Nah.” Xenia accelerated. “I disconnected it before leaving the used-car lot.”
Skye opened her mouth to ask how but realized she didn’t really want to know. Instead she changed the subject. “You were pretty rude to Hugo.”
“He got on my last nerve, and I couldn’t help myself.”
“It’s true he deserved what you said to him,” Skye allowed, “but either you control your attitude or it controls you.”
Xenia snorted but was silent for the next few minutes until they arrived at the Dairy Kastle. The local soft-serve drive-in was a hangout for kids, and the statue of a giant man holding a cone was often photographed by tourists on their Route 66 road trips. To Skye, he looked suspiciously like Paul Bunyan, and she often wondered what had happened to his ax and his blue ox, Babe.
Once they were parked, had given their order to the carhop, and the girl had skated away, Xenia patted the dash and said, “This is wicked nice.”
“Yes. It is.” Skye swept her hand in front of her. “It’s much roomier than I was expecting.”
“And I got a great price,” Xenia bragged. “A thousand under the Kelley Blue Book Web site recommendation.”
“That’s amazing.” Skye’s tone was upbeat, but she was alarmed. It wasn’t like Hugo to sell a car for one cent less than it was worth to him. She sure hoped there was nothing wrong with the VW. Not that she had believed for a minute that he really had another buyer for it.
“Like you and Mrs. Frayne used to always say”—Xenia beamed—“it pays to do your homework.”
“You did great. I’m proud of you.” Skye couldn’t remember ever seeing a genuine smile on Xenia’s face before. “You know, I’ve never actually bought a car.”
“Word?”
“Yep. My dad has always fixed up clunkers for me.” Skye shrugged. “He and my uncle found my current one rotting in someone’s barn.”
“It must have taken them a long time to make a nineteen fifty-seven Bel Air so nice.” Xenia’s smile faded. “My mom won’t even stitch on a button for me. She just hands me some money and tells me to buy a new blouse.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know how to sew.”
“That’s her excuse for everything she doesn’t want to do: clean, cook, help me fill out forms for school.” Xenia’s lips thinned. “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have a kid until you can prove you can take care of one.”
Skye silently agreed with the girl and struggled to come up with a diplomatic answer. When she couldn’t, she changed the subject. “Not that I’m not happy to do it, but what made you decide to invite me to come with you to buy a car? I sure didn’t contribute much to the process.”
“Uh.” Xenia peeled a strip of black polish off her thumbnail. “My therapist says I have to start asking for help.” She glanced at Skye out of the corner of her eye. “You know, quit trying to do everything myself.”
“Right.” Skye nodded. Xenia had been seeing a private counselor for the past couple of years. She had a lot of issues—explosiveness, impulsivity, and episodes of depression among the most serious. The psychologist seemed to be making remarkable progress with Xenia, but she still had a long way to go. “I’m glad you picked me,” Skye said.
“You and Mrs. Frayne were pretty cool with stuff that happened on the paper.” Xenia made a face. “Not that you let us get away with anything, but you didn’t automatically freak out or blame the bad kids either.”
“Well, thanks.” Skye felt a glow. One of the drawbacks of being a school psychologist was lack of feedback. It was nice to hear she’d established rapport with a student, especially one she would have bet money hadn’t felt a connection. “So—”
Skye’s next words were cut off when a tiny brunette stuck her head through Xenia’s open window and said, “Girlfriend. New wheels?”
“Got it about an hour ago.” Xenia grinned. “Now I can take my turn driving to school.”
“Awesome.” The brunette vibrated with energy.
Since it didn’t look as if Xenia planned to introduce her, Skye stuck out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Skye Denison.”
“Actually, we’ve met.” The girl shook Skye’s hand. “I’m Kayla Hines. I graduated from Scumble River High in 2004.”
“Sorry,” Skye apologized. “Which activity did we meet through?” She was pretty sure their encounter hadn’t been in her capacity as a school psychologist. She tended to remember those kids, at least their names if not all their faces.
“You gave a talk on intelligence to my advanced English class.”
“Oh.” Skye was glad to know Kayla had been part of a group and she hadn’t forgotten a student with whom she’d worked individually. “I hope I didn’t bore you to tears.”
“No. It was the first time anyone explained that there are different kinds of intelligence.” Kayla’s smile was radiant. “It totally made me appreciate the artistic side
of myself and helped me decide to become a filmmaker. Everyone was telling me I was so smart, I should be a doctor, but I knew when we had to dissect a cat in advanced biology that it wasn’t the career for me.”
“I’m glad I helped.” Skye settled back in her seat. This was turning out to be a good day after all. “So you and Xenia are attending the same college in Chicago?”
“It’s not a college,” Kayla corrected. “We’re both going to the Chicago School of Film and Photography.”
Xenia added, “Kayla’s a second-year student and is studying moviemaking. She’s over-the-top talented.”
“Xenia’s no slouch either.” Kayla hugged her friend. “This is her first year in the documentary program, and her teachers are already mega-impressed just from her portfolio.”
“Wow. Maybe you’ll both become famous and put Scumble River on the map,” Skye enthused. “And you’re both living at home?”
“Xenia is.” Kayla climbed into the backseat as she answered. “I’m sort of between gigs. Sometimes I stay at my mom and stepdad’s, sometimes I crash with my boyfriend, and sometimes I hang at Xenia’s place.”
“Oh.” Before Skye could question why Kayla didn’t have a place to call home, their ice cream arrived, so instead she asked, “Do you want to order something, Kayla?”
“No, thanks.” Kayla put her hand to her mouth. “I haven’t been too hungry lately. Nothing sounds good to me.”
Skye noticed that the girl was a bit pale and hoped she wasn’t not eating because she thought she needed to lose weight. Which certainly was far from the truth.
After the carhop left, Kayla said, “Oh, I kinda almost forgot. I have good news, too.”
“What?” Xenia took a huge bite of her banana split.
“I finally found a part-time job.”
“Where?” Skye licked a rivulet of melted vanilla dripping down the side of her cone.
“At Tales and Treats.” Kayla wiggled in her seat. “It works out perfectly since I don’t have to be in class every day.” She explained to Skye, “We do lots of work via computer.”
“That’s great,” Skye agreed.
“Ms. Vaughn said I can start tomorrow.” Kayla frowned. “That is, if they get the insurance and stuff straightened out.”
“Oh?” Skye raised brow. “What’s the problem?”
“The insurance guy told Ms. Vaughn that her policy was approved, but he stopped by this afternoon while she was interviewing me and told her that it was going to cost more than he originally said.”
“Why?” Xenia asked.
“Who knows?” Kayla shrugged. “They stepped into the back room to discuss it.”
“I’m sure they’ll get that fixed up,” Skye reassured the girl.
“Yeah.” Kayla nodded. “It’s the other guy I’m more worried about.”
“What other guy?” Skye asked.
“The one they hired to remodel the upstairs,” Kayla explained. “They’re going to live up there, you know, and use two spare rooms for a B and B.”
“Uh-huh,” Skye encouraged.
“Well, the construction guy came after the insurance man left. At first he seemed normal, but—”
“Yeah,” Xenia interrupted. “Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.”
Kayla snickered, then continued. “Anyway, this creep demanded payment in cash, or he’d make sure the rooms didn’t pass the building inspection.” Kayla chewed her lower lip. “Ms. Vaughn really schooled him. She threatened to call his union, and he got real uptight and harsh. What a loser.”
“Boy!” Xenia exclaimed. “You sure had an exciting interview.”
Kayla opened her mouth, but a honking horn interrupted her. They all looked in the direction of a black BMW SUV parked a couple spaces down. A muscular blond guy was waving in their direction. Xenia and Kayla waved back.
It took Skye a second to place the young man, but then she recognized him as Chase Wren. As a senior, he’d played the prince in Scumble River High’s 2002 production of Sleeping Beauty. Although he’d been a hotshot baseball player, he hadn’t been one of the brightest bulbs on the scoreboard, which made her wonder what kind of job Chase had gotten that paid well enough for him to buy a thirty-five-thousand-dollar car.
While Skye had been thinking, Kayla had climbed hastily out of the car, saying, “That’s my boyfriend. Gotta go. Bye.”
“I’ll see you at Tales and Treats tomorrow,” Skye called after her.
“Definitely.” Kayla waved, then added as she walked away, her ponytail swinging in time with her strides, “I just hope everything’s ready. It would kill Ms. Vaughn if something held up the grand opening.”
CHAPTER 4
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
“And then she tried to make me sign a petition against Tales and Treats.” Skye sat on a bench in front of Bates Pharmacy. It was Saturday morning, and she and Trixie were supervising the school newspaper’s bake sale.
“Is she out of her mind?” Trixie shrieked, jumping up and down in her seat as if she were a baby in a bouncy chair. The two students standing behind the folding table full of goodies glanced her way, and she lowered her voice. “Why would an English teacher want to close down a bookstore?”
“Because she’s an idiot.” Skye watched her friend fidget. As well as cosponsoring the Scoop with Skye, Trixie was the high school librarian and coached the cheerleading squad. To say Trixie’s energy level made a hyperactive squirrel look sedate was an understatement. “She’s sure it will turn our kids into vampires and porn stars.”
“Oh, my . . .” Trixie had just taken a drink of Mountain Dew, and it spewed into the air.
“Yeah.” Skye grabbed a tissue from her purse and handed it to Trixie. “That was my reaction, too.”
“What are we going to do about it?” Trixie gazed expectantly at Skye. “We won’t let her get away with it, right?”
“Well, I didn’t sign her petition.”
“Like that’ll stop Without-a-Clue Pru.” Trixie blotted the electric yellow liquid from her pale pink T-shirt. “You and I need to nip her scheme in the bud.”
“What makes you think we can stop her?”
“’Cause we’re smarter?”
“Maybe,” Skye acknowledged. “But she’s as persistent as a smoker’s cough.”
“Then we’ll have to find some way to persuade her it’s in her best interest to back off.” Trixie put her right hand over her heart. “As a librarian I’m sworn to oppose censorship of any kind.”
“Really?” Skye raised a brow. “Did you have to take an oath in library school or something?”
“Nope.” Trixie got to her feet and walked toward the bake sale table. “It’s implied.” Once she finished cajoling an older gentleman into buying a pie, two plates of cookies, and a tin of fudge, she returned to her seat. “So, what’s the plan?”
“It’s your pledge. You figure out the plan.” Skye took the last sip of her Diet Coke and tossed the empty can toward the garbage container. “And while you’re at it, you’d better figure out a way to stop my cousin Hugo, too.”
“What’s he got against the bookstore?”
As Skye got up, retrieved the can from where it had landed on the ground, and deposited it in the trash, she explained about the parking situation, ending with, “Then he said, ‘My dad’s the mayor of Scumble River and my cousin here is engaged to the chief of police.’ ”
“You know I’m still mad at you about that, right?” Trixie narrowed her brown eyes. “How could you possibly not tell me that Wally proposed?”
Skye cringed. “I said I was sorry. It’s just that I wasn’t sure I was going to accept, and it seemed cruel to tell anyone if I ended up saying no.” Wally had popped the question last November, and Skye had apologized to Trixie a hundred times since announcing their engagement three months ago, but any mention of it rekindled her friend’s hurt feelings. “I was trying to save him from being embarrassed.”
“Are you saying
I can’t keep a secret?” Trixie demanded.
“No.” Skye knew she had to tread carefully. “If I had confided in anyone, it would have been you.”
“I bet you told someone.” Trixie dug into her jeans pocket, pulled out a miniature Butterfinger, and stripped off the wrapper. “Did you tell Vince?”
“No. Considering his profession, there was no way I would have told him.” Skye’s brother owned the Great Expectations hair salon, and gossip was as much part of the service he offered as an excellent haircut. “I promise you, no one knew.”
“Including me,” Trixie muttered. “Everyone got to see your ring before me.”
“You were in Europe, and I called you the night I accepted,” Skye almost screamed in frustration. “You know, one of the things I’ve finally accepted is that no matter how good friends you are with someone, there will come a time when they hurt you, and either you keep losing friends or you learn to forgive them.”
“Fine.” Trixie drew out the word. “I’ll forgive you, but you have to tell me a secret. Something no one else knows.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” Skye protested.
“Everyone has secrets.”
“Okay.” Skye exhaled loudly. “A few months back I had to go to a lingerie shower for one of my second or third cousins. One of the games was that as the bride opened her gifts you had to write down your first impressions. Well, my cousin is extremely flat chested and someone got her a Wonderbra, so I wrote, ‘I wonder what she’s going to put into it.’”
“So, what’s the big deal about that?”
“When they read the slips out loud, the bride got hysterical and that pretty much ended the party. Luckily the comments were anonymous. If Mom knew it was me, she’d never let me hear the end of it.”
“Oh.” Trixie was well acquainted with the Wrath of May.
“Now”—Skye frowned—“can we get back to the current problem of how to stop Hugo and Pru from shutting down the bookstore?”
Trixie ran her hands through her short faun-colored hair. “I have an idea.”
“Okay,” Skye’s tone was cautious; Trixie was even more impulsive than she was. “What?”
Murder of a Bookstore Babe Page 3