“I don’t know anything about that.” Charlie shrugged. “He must have gotten some kind of dispensation.”
“Who else, Uncle Charlie?” Vince’s green eyes gleamed with interest, and he absentmindedly smoothed back the sides of his butterscotch blond hair. He was an extremely handsome man who had dated most of the single women in Scumble River and its surrounding counties at least once.
“Tomi over to the Feed Bag’s not too happy at the prospect of them siphoning off her morning-coffee-and-donut crowd.” Charlie forked a piece of beef into his mouth, then spoke around it. “That, and people stopping in the afternoon for a piece of pie, is a good chunk of change for her. With Erwin baking fresh stuff all day, folks might go to Tales and Treats instead.”
Skye wondered whether Charlie was aware of Hugo’s and Pru’s grudges against the store owners, so she asked, “Anyone else you can think of?”
“Your cousin Kevin Denison had a run-in with them about their insurance.” Charlie gestured with his knife. “They gave him a hard time about the premium he quoted being different from the actual amount they had to pay.”
Great! Another cousin was unhappy with the bookstore owners—that made two from the Denison side and one from the Leofantis. “But why do you think they’d want Risé dead versus Orlando?” Skye asked.
“Because she’s a bi—witch.” Charlie finished eating and wiped his mouth. “Her husband is just an idiot.”
“Why do you think she’s a bitch?” Loretta asked. She ignored Charlie’s and May’s frowns when she uttered the b word, and continued, “Was it because she was assertive? If her husband had been the one acting that way, would you have called him a bastard or admired his grit?”
“I don’t know what you’re implying, little lady—”
Trixie cut Charlie off. “Of course you do.” She smiled at Loretta before telling him, “She’s implying you’re a chauvinist, and you have to admit you are.”
Charlie’s face turned magenta, and Skye was worried he might go into cardiac arrest. He was a prime candidate for a stroke since he was over seventy-five, drank, smoked, and didn’t exercise at all. “Uncle Charlie was born in a different time.” Skye explained. “Besides, he’s just not a warm and fuzzy kind of guy. Actually, he pretty much treats everyone the same.”
“Okay.” Loretta nodded. “But I still want to know what Risé did to make you think she’s so bad.”
“I can’t rightly put my finger on it.” Charlie ran his hands through his thick white hair. “It’s mostly an impression she made, that whatever she did before opening that bookstore, she was the boss, and no one messed with her. Once she gets something up her butt, she never lets it go.” He narrowed his bright blue eyes. “Take Hugo and those dang used cars of his, for instance. She is bound and determined to make him move them, or die trying.”
Skye gulped at Charlie’s words and sent a silent prayer to the heavens. Please, please, God, let Kayla’s death be a burglary gone wrong.
After everyone had finished, the dishes were done, and the leftovers were distributed among them all, everyone got up to leave. As the group made its way to the foyer, Skye noticed that Vince and Loretta hung back, bringing up the rear. She crossed her fingers that there was a good, not bad, reason for their wanting to talk to her alone.
Just before walking out the door, Vince said, “One second, Loretta; I need to use the john.” The others hesitated, but he waved them off.
Once May, Jed, Charlie, and Trixie had gone, Skye asked Loretta, “What’s up?”
“Let’s wait for Vince to get back.” Loretta’s face was glowing.
“I think I can guess, but why the secrecy?”
Vince emerged from the hall bathroom and came up behind the two women in the foyer. He put an arm around each and beamed. “Because we wanted you to be the first to know, Sis. Loretta and I are engaged.”
“That’s wonderful!” Skye’s voice bubbled with pleasure. “I’m so happy for you both.”
Loretta reached into her pocket and slipped a large emerald-cut diamond set in platinum on her left ring finger, then held out her hand. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It’s gorgeous,” Skye assured her friend. “Did you pick it out by yourself, Vince, or did you help him, Loretta?”
“He completely surprised me.” Loretta clung to Vince’s arm. “He proposed last night.”
“You done good, bro.” Skye hugged Vince, then embraced her friend. “This is so wonderful.”
“It is,” Loretta exulted. “Now we’ll be both Alpha Sigma Alpha sisters and sisters-in-law.”
“I’m flattered you wanted me to be the first to know, but why do I think there’s a catch?” Skye looked from Vince to Loretta.
“Let’s sit down.” Vince led them toward the back of the house and into the sunroom. “So, do you remember the promise you made to me last June?”
“Yes,” Skye answered cautiously, taking a seat on the wicker chair. “I said I’d run interference with Mom next time you were in trouble.”
Vince and Loretta snuggled together on the matching love seat, and he said, “I’m calling in that marker.”
“Why?” Skye became instantly wary. “Mom will be happy about you getting married. Won’t she?”
“The marriage part, yes.” Vince picked up one of Bingo’s catnip toys and tossed it from hand to hand. “The wedding part, not so much.”
“What kind of wedding are you planning?” Skye didn’t hide her look of consternation.
“Small.” Loretta took the felt mouse from Vince and gave it to Bingo, who was pawing at his knee.
The cat immediately dropped it and sauntered away.
“Oh.” Skye felt relieved. Yes, May would prefer a huge affair, but she’d be okay with a small wedding for her son. Now, if it were Skye, it would be a different story. “She’ll be fine, as long as the family’s included.”
“That’s the thing.” Vince spun the TV remote on the glass-topped coffee table. “When Loretta said small, she really meant intimate.”
“Like just Mom, Dad, me, Loretta’s parents, and her siblings?” Skye offered, thinking she could probably sell that to May without too much drama.
Vince shook his head. “Even tinier.”
Skye cringed. “What’s teenier than that?” Vince’s and Loretta’s expressions told Skye that something really bad was coming.
“Me, Loretta, you, and Wally.” Vince’s gaze slid from Skye’s.
“Oh, my God!” Skye screamed. “Please, tell me you aren’t eloping.”
“Technically, we aren’t.” Loretta gave Skye a calculating look. “Since we’re telling you and asking you and Wally to stand up for us.”
“Mom is going to kill you both.” Skye glared at them. “And I’m not going to be collateral damage.”
“You promised,” Vince insisted. “You pinkie swore.” He thumped the back of her head lightly with his thumb and forefinger.
“Shit!” It was times like this when Skye wished she used the f word.
“Yes, it’ll hit the fan, all right.” Vince made a face.
“Why? Tell me why you want to elope,” Skye demanded. She turned to Loretta. “Won’t your mother be disappointed? You’re her only daughter.”
“That’s the problem.” Loretta’s right eye gave a single twitch; then not a muscle moved in her face. “Although my parents like Vince, he’s not exactly the husband they’d choose for me.”
“What’s wrong with my brother?” Skye’s voice was knife-edged.
“Let me count the ways.” Vince spoke without rancor, but there was something in his eyes that made Skye think he was more upset than he let on. “I don’t live in Chicago. I didn’t go to college. I’m not a professional. I don’t have a lot of money. And . . .”
“And?” Skye hated to ask, afraid she already knew the answer.
“He’s Ca—”
“Caucasian, right?” Skye said half defiantly. “They want you to marry an African-American.”
; “Nope.” Loretta’s eyes glinted with equal parts amusement and irritation. “I was going to say he’s Catholic. They want me to marry a Christian.”
“Sheesh. We are, too, Christians.” Without waiting for a response, Skye went on, “Which reminds me, why is Mom okay with you marrying a non-Catholic when she’s having a hissy fit because Wally isn’t Catholic?”
“She likes me better,” Vince teased. “Seriously, I think once Wally’s annulment comes through, she’ll be all right with him.”
“Getting back to you two.” Skye pressed her fingers against her temples. “You’re really going to elope?”
“Yes.” Loretta nodded.
“Neither of us wants a big, fancy wedding.” Vince’s voice was firm. “Especially after what went on with Cousin Riley’s last June.”
Riley’s over-the-top platinum wedding had inconvenienced everyone, caused oodles of hard feelings, and ended in murder.
“You have a point,” Skye conceded. “But you don’t have to go to the other extreme.”
“Look.” Vince drummed his fingers on the coffee table. “It’ll be so much easier this way.”
“We’ll have a party at Christmastime,” Loretta joined in. “It’ll give everyone a chance to get used to each other without the pressure of a wedding.”
“Without a lot of nosy people watching our two families’ every move,” Vince added.
“Okay.” Skye held up her hands in surrender. “I give up. What do you want me to do?”
“We’d like the four of us to fly to Las Vegas the first weekend in October,” Loretta explained. “You and Wally can spend the weekend, or longer if you want, but we’ll come back the following Sunday.”
“And until then,” Vince added, “we need to keep our engagement and the arrangements for the wedding a secret from both families. Which should be easy with Loretta’s folks, probably a little harder with Mom and Dad.”
“You two do realize that if a robin falls within fifty miles of Scumble River, Mom knows about it before its wings quit fluttering?” Skye tilted her head. When they didn’t react, she sighed. “What else do you have on your evil minds?”
“Before Loretta and I come back from the trip, you need to break the news to Mom.” Vince tried to sound casual. “In person.”
“No way.” At that instant, Skye knew that she might as well rejoin the Peace Corps. The only thing that would save her from May’s fury would be living in a foreign country with poor phone service.
“Look, if Mom starts to get suspicious, just give her a whiff of Lysol and tell her your house needs cleaning.” Vince’s eyes gleamed with mischievousness. “That should throw her off the scent for a while.”
“This is so, so much bigger than the favor I had you do for me,” Skye whined.
“You agreed to the deal.”
“And you knew all along what you were going to ask in return, didn’t you?”
“Of course not.” Vince shook his head.
“Right.” Skye didn’t believe him for a second. “I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I’m getting back at you both for this.”
Vince and Loretta snickered.
“That is, if I live through the experience,” Skye muttered.
“Mom’ll get over it.” Vince patted Skye’s cheek. “You worry too much about her.”
Skye shook her head. Her brother was excellent at existing in the here and now, but he had never been very good with the concept of future consequences. This time, he might regret that. If May missed her only son’s wedding, she wouldn’t let any of them live it down for a long, long time.
CHAPTER 10
Catch-22
Skye had been back inside her house for less than a minute after escorting the newly engaged couple to their car when she heard knocking. Thinking her brother had forgotten something, she ran into the foyer and flung open the door. Instead of Vince demanding his Tupperware container full of leftovers, Simon stood on her porch holding a pizza box.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might not have had a chance to eat today,” Simon explained.
“I do keep food in the house and am able to cook.” Skye let the sarcasm roll off her tongue. Simon wasn’t here just to feed her, and he didn’t have that cute, slightly goofy look he wore when he was trying to romance her, so something was definitely up.
He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “I need to talk to you in private.”
“I live alone on a fairly deserted road.” She made a show of sticking her head out the door and gazing around. “I’m pretty sure no one is eavesdropping.”
“Can I come in?” Simon juggled the flat cardboard box. “It’s important.”
“No.” Skye gave him a speculative look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“How about we sit out here?” Simon gestured to the porch furniture. “The weather’s nice. Just flip on your outside lights.”
“Okay.” Skye tipped her head. “But this better not be about winning me back.”
“I promise it’s not.”
“You wait right there,” Skye ordered. “I’ll go get some plates and napkins. Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’d love a scotch, but I’m guessing you don’t have the bottle you used to keep for me anymore, so how about a glass of wine?” He put the pizza down on the wicker table.
She nodded, closed the door, and after a second’s thought locked it. Hurrying to the kitchen, she worried about what her ex wanted to discuss. None of the subjects that came to mind was encouraging.
Simon had made himself comfortable while she’d been gone. The citronella candle Skye kept on the table was lit, and he had taken off his suit jacket and tie and was settled in one of the pair of matching wicker armchairs with his feet up on the ottoman.
Skye put down two glasses of Zinfandel, plates, and a stack of paper napkins, then took a seat. “Go ahead. Eat while it’s still hot.”
“Thanks.” He flipped open the box. “I haven’t had anything since coffee with you. I was on my way to brunch when I got the call from Boyd.”
While Simon devoured three slices of pizza, she nibbled on one. She may have eaten a huge dinner a couple of hours ago, but who could resist Aurelio’s pepperoni and mushrooms on a crispy thin crust?
Finally, Simon wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You sure aren’t eating much.” He sneered. “Has Boyd got you on a diet for the big wedding?”
“Of course not. He likes me the way I am,” Skye snapped. “Do you really think I’d lose weight because some man told me to?” She was tired of hearing about weddings, and she was especially tired of discussing what she should look like by the time hers rolled around.
“Oops! Sorry. That was just my jealousy getting out of hand.” Simon’s expression was contrite. “Let me rephrase that. Don’t you like the pizza?”
“If you must know, Mom and the gang were waiting for me with a complete Sunday dinner ready to be served when I got home.” She made a wry face. “I wonder how many other thirty-five-year-old women have mothers who break into their houses to cook for them.”
“May is one of a kind.” Simon’s tone was fond. “If my mother broke into my house, it would be to steal the silver in order to finance some get-rich-quick scheme.”
“Bunny’s not that bad.” Skye took a sip of her wine. “She would never steal from you.”
“You’re right.” Simon picked up another piece of pizza. “She’d just try to con me out of the money.”
They both laughed; then Skye sighed and said, “I’m not going to like why you’re here, am I?”
“Probably not.”
“Shoot!” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready. Tell me your news.”
“The medical examiner’s preliminary findings are that Kayla’s death was not an accident.”
“Because the rare-book cabinet was deliberately pushed over?”
“Not only that.” Simon finished chewing and swallowed. “Because it a
ppears she was hit over the head before the cabinet was yanked on top of her.”
“How can he know that so soon?”
“Her skull was smashed in, but the bookcase only hit her from below the shoulder blades.”
“Still.” Skye’s chair squeaked as she leaned forward. “It was most likely a crime of circumstances. The thief didn’t realize Kayla was there, and when she caught him, he hit her, shoved the cabinet over, and ran.”
“Maybe.” Simon twisted a gold signet ring on his right hand. “But I’m concerned about Xavier.”
“His investment?”
“That, although I don’t think that poor girl’s death will keep business away for long—people have short memories.” Simon struggled to explain his reasoning. “More, I have a bad feeling that this wasn’t—how did you put it?—a crime of circumstances.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Something isn’t adding up.” Simon adjusted the crease on his trousers, then picked up his glass. “Xavier was really upset when he first came into the store and he thought Risé was the woman under the bookshelf, and he rarely expresses any emotion.”
“I can see why he’d be distressed. After all, he, Orlando, and Risé have been friends for years.” Skye wasn’t sure what Simon was trying to say. “Not to mention that Xavier doesn’t have many people he’s close to. He’s always struck me as an extremely lonely man.”
“That’s true.” Simon stared at his black wingtips, wiping a smudge from the toe with his napkin before continuing. “But I think it has something to do with what he’s hiding.”
“Then you’d better find out what his secret is.” Skye sipped her wine. “Not to be mean, but what does any of this have to do with me? If Xavier’s going to open up to anyone, it would be you.”
“True.” Simon tented his fingers under his chin and spoke over the tips. “But if Boyd is going to confide in anyone, it’s you.”
“Are you afraid that Xavier is somehow involved in that girl’s death?” Skye’s tone was incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I don’t think he killed her.” Simon leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his flat abdomen. “But he might know who did.”
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