Murder of a Pink Elephant

by Denise Swanson

  “He had many talents.” A strange look crossed Ivy’s face. “Maybe that was his curse.” Skye was dying to ask Ivy to explain, but the young woman turned away, saying over her shoulder, “I have to get back to the kitchen.”

  Skye studied the young widow as she walked away. Both her hair and eyes were a medium brown. She had on black slacks and a cornflower blue polo shirt with “Bunny Lanes” embroidered above the breast pocket. She didn’t look like the type to have been married to a rock star.

  Once Ivy was out of earshot Skye said to Simon, “I’m surprised she’s working tonight. He died less than a week ago.”

  “She said she couldn’t stand to just sit around an empty house and stare at the walls.”

  “Where did she work before here?”

  “Wal-Mart.” Simon frowned. “I almost didn’t hire her when she told me she’d been fired but couldn’t tell me why. She said all they told her was she had behaved inappropriately and she didn’t know what she had done.”

  “That’s an odd reason to give someone for firing them.”

  “Yes, and they were so evasive when I called to find out why they let her go, I decided to give her a chance.”

  Skye squeezed his hand. “That was nice of you.” Simon was getting as bad as she was about collecting strays and trying to right the wrongs of the world.

  Bunny clearly felt she had been left out of the conversation long enough. She took Skye’s hand and said, “You’ve got to see the lanes.”

  Skye allowed herself to be pulled to the back of the alley, marveling at how fast the redhead could walk on sandals that consisted of nothing more than thin soles and a single strap attached to stiletto heels.

  Simon trailed after the two women.

  When they arrived at the railing that separated the alleys from the rest of the room, Bunny swept her arm in an expansive gesture. “The lanes have all been refinished, and we have automatic score keepers and new ball returns. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Skye hugged the older woman. “It’s magnificent.” She turned to Simon. “I really like the new padded benches. Those molded plastic ones were so uncomfortable.”

  “I remember you mentioning something about that.” Simon’s grin was warm and sexy. “Maybe we can try them out after we close tonight.”

  Bunny giggled and Skye felt her face flush.

  Simon glanced at his watch and his expression turned serious. “It’s already a quarter to six, and we’re opening the doors at seven. We’d better get to work.”

  “I’ve got to make sure the bartender has the setups ready and finish putting the snacks on the tables.” Bunny winked at them. “I ordered the extra salty and spicy kinds so people would get thirsty and order more drinks. That’s where the real money is in a place like this.”

  Simon gave her a level look. “Remember, Mother, we do not serve anyone who has had too much alcohol.”

  “Sure. Gotcha.” Bunny walked off, not at all fazed by his admonishment.

  “What do you want me to do?” Skye asked.

  “There are balloons and a helium tank in the storeroom. Would you mind filling them?” Simon pointed to the door next to the grill area.

  “Sounds like fun.” Skye headed in the direction he had indicated.

  “After you get them inflated, attach a ribbon to each one, and then tie them all around the rooms.”

  “Got it.”

  An hour later Skye had just finished attaching the last balloon to the back of one of the chairs when Bunny hurried past. Skye asked, “Do you know where Simon is?”

  “He’s behind the lanes showing the machinery to your dad.”

  “My father’s here?”

  “Yeah. Your mom’s around somewhere, too.” Bunny twisted her lips. “I offered her a drink, but she said no.”

  “Mmm.” Skye made a noncommittal noise. May had not hit it off with Bunny when the redhead had first arrived at Scumble River, and clearly the relationship hadn’t improved. “It’s getting late. I’d better go find Simon and see if there’s anything else we need to do.”

  “If you see your mom, tell her the offer for a drink is still open,” Bunny called as Skye walked away. Bunny wanted to be May’s pal, but the feeling was far from mutual.

  Skye found Simon and her father coming out from behind the alleys. Jed had a streak of grease across his forehead and Simon’s hands were black. Both men were smiling.

  She hurried over to them and kissed her father’s cheek. “Hi, Dad. What are you two up to?”

  “Making sure it’s all set.” Jed was a man of few words.

  “Is it?” Skye asked.

  “Yep.” Jed looked around. “Where’s your ma?”

  “I suspect she’s hiding from Bunny.” Skye gestured toward the entrance area. “Try by the lockers.”

  Jed nodded and moseyed away.

  “Did the band show up yet?” Simon asked.

  “Yes.” Skye nodded. “I saw them come in a while ago.”

  “Good. Let’s get everyone together for a toast before we open.”

  They gathered all the helpers in the bar, but as Bunny passed out glasses of champagne Skye noticed that Ivy Wolfe wasn’t present. She was probably still trying to get the kitchen ready for action.

  Simon raised his glass. “I want to thank everyone for their help. Jed, I appreciate all the time you spent fixing all the odds and ends. May, I’ll bet that’s the cleanest the windows have ever been. And, Mother, you amazed me with your organizational skills.”

  “Thanks.” Bunny fluffed her hair. “Too bad that now I’ve finally gotten my head together, my body’s falling apart.”

  “Then you must be using some terrific glue,” the bartender interjected, “because it looks pretty darn good to me.

  After the laughter died down, Simon continued, “Skye, well, what can I say. You kept me going when I thought the project would never get done. Here’s to you all.”

  Everyone drank.

  He added, “And to a successful grand opening.”

  Even though she realized this wasn’t Fantasy Island, Skye was a little disappointed that Simon didn’t say, “Places, everyone.”

  Bunny led the way to the front doors and Simon and Skye followed. Bunny looked at Simon, who nodded, then reached over and turned the key. She flung the doors wide, and people started streaming in.

  Two hours later, Skye looked around smiling. There were at least three hundred people crowded into the various areas of the bowling alley. All twenty-five lanes were occupied, the stools in the grill were full, as were the tables in the bar, and small groups stood everywhere. The only noticeable absentees were Trixie and her husband. Skye was sad to see them missing out on this good time, but she understood they probably weren’t in the mood to socialize.

  Simon and Bunny had hardly been able to move all evening as wave after wave of people surrounded them, asking questions and offering congratulations. Bunny glowed under all the attention, but Simon looked like he could use a break. Skye had just started over to him when a commotion by the bar entrance drew her attention. She quickly changed course and hurried over there instead. What was going on?

  As she neared the bar, she could see half a dozen teenagers squared off against several adult men in front of the glass doors, Skye groaned. This couldn’t be good.

  She groaned again when she spotted Arlen Yoder. First the false fire alarm, now this. What had gotten into that young man? She sure hoped it wasn’t methamphetamine.

  Skye knew all the kids present from previous dealings with them at school and in the community. They weren’t bad, just impulsive, and not too bright, or as her grandmother used to say, “all wax and no wick.” Unfortunately, the combination of recklessness and foolishness made it easy to steer them astray.

  At the end of September, their leader had been removed from the high school, and Skye had thought she had gotten the rest of the group on the straight and narrow, but it looked as if they had drifted from the path once again.

&nb
sp; Skye watched in alarm as the smallest of the teens drew himself into a boxing position and hollered, “Get your dukes up. I can whup all of you.”

  The men looked bewildered, glancing at each other to see if anyone else would make a move, clearly not knowing what to do. The boy wasn’t even five feet tall and didn’t weigh a hundred pounds. Thank goodness no one seemed willing to be the first to beat up a munchkin.

  Skye pushed her way to the front of the crowd and yelled, “Elvis Doozier, you stop that right now and get over here.” She had dealt with most of the Doozier clan in the years she had been the Scumble River school psychologist, and poor Elvis wasn’t even the sharpest thorn on a family tree full of stunted branches. Although he was nearly sixteen, physically he resembled a twelve-year-old and mentally he functioned a year or so below that.

  Elvis’s quick glance at Skye indicated no recognition, which was strange, and he continued to try to punch the man blocking the door to the bar. “Get outta the way. Me and my buddies come to hear the music, and nobody’s gonna stop us.”

  Usually he responded to Skye’s directions, and she was concerned by how overly agitated he appeared to be. She tried to step closer but several hands held her back.

  “What’s the matter with you?” One of the men Elvis was confronting thumped a sign to the right of the entrance with the back of his hand. “It says no one under eighteen admitted. Can’t you read? Are you some kind of dummy?”

  Elvis took a wild swing and missed. His face was red and his eyes were glassy. “Who you callin’ a dummy? I ain’t no retard.”

  Skye frantically searched for something to say or do before one of the kids got hurt or hurt someone else. Maybe one of the other teens would listen to reason. She raised her voice above the noise and shouted, “Arlen Yoder, make Elvis stop.” Arlen still owed her for getting him off the hook for pulling the fire alarm.

  Arlen was another kid who wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the cup, but generally he respected adults and did as he was told. Tonight he wasn’t listening either.

  What was up with these kids? Were they high on meth? Skye had no idea what to do next. Although she knew the other teens, they were even less likely than Elvis and Arlen to do as she asked. Things were turning ugly fast. She had no choice. She had to call the police.

  The kids were crowding the bar door, and several more men had joined those defending the entrance. Both groups were shoving and pushing. In a few seconds a punch would connect or a knife would appear in someone’s hand, and that would be it. Once violence erupted there would be no going back.

  Skye had turned to go for a telephone when without warning all the lights went out. The music died, the mechanical sounds of the lanes ceased, and there was a moment of complete silence before everyone started talking at once. Just as abruptly a dazzling beam of light appeared between the teens and the men.

  Skye took advantage of the situation by moving through the crowd, hauling Elvis to her side, and whispering furiously into his ear, “Do you want me to call your brother Earl and have him come down here, or will you leave on your own?”

  He tried to wiggle out of her grasp, but she had several inches and more than a few pounds on him. He wasn’t getting away that easily.

  Finally, he focused on her face. “Aw, Miz D., we were just havin’ some fun. No need to go ape-shit.”

  Skye tightened her grip, prepared to drag him out of the building if she had to, when a voice behind the high-powered flashlight spoke. It was Bunny, and she sounded seriously ticked off. “What’s the problem here?”

  One man managed to be heard through the babble. “These kids were trying to go into the bar, and we pointed out they weren’t allowed.”

  Bunny aimed the beam of light at the teens. “Is that what happened?”

  One of them whined, “That’s bogus. We just wanted to hear the band.”

  “Sorry, boys. We can’t take a chance with our liquor license.”

  Angry teen voices rose in protest and Bunny directed the light into their eyes. They squinted and put up their arms up against the glare.

  Bunny moved past the teenagers, leaned casually against the bar door, and said, “Here are your choices. Come with me, sit at the grill where you can hear the music and I’ll treat you to free sodas and French fries, or continue to try and push your way past all these men.” She paused dramatically before continuing. “Of course, I should probably mention that I called the police just before the lights went out. They’ll be arriving any second.”

  The sound of sirens getting closer bore out her statement.

  “What’s it going to be, boys? Me or the cops?” The kids muttered but followed Bunny to the grill.

  Unwilling to let Elvis go, Skye trailed the older woman and the rest of the teenagers.

  Bunny turned to Skye. “Keep an eye on our guests while I turn the lights back on and talk to the police.”

  Skye nodded mutely. She had never seen Bunny so together and in charge. The redhead must have learned crowd control when she worked the Las Vegas casinos.

  The lights went on within moments of Bunny’s departure. Next the music started back up and within seconds, it was as if there had never been a problem.

  After supplying the kids with sodas and asking Ivy to give them each a basket of fries, Skye went down the line trying to find out what had stirred the teens up, but no one was keen on chatting.

  When Simon finally arrived in the grill area, Skye pulled him to the side and demanded, “Where were you?”

  His hair stood on end, his shirttail was hanging out of his pants, and he was sweating. “I was in the bathroom.”

  “Did you get locked in or something?”

  “Something. Nate Turner was in there too, and when the lights went out he completely lost control.”

  “How?” Skye knew Nate Turner, an obnoxious, pushy, Neanderthal whose son Nathan was the boy who had decided to take a shower during the dance. She couldn’t imagine Nate being afraid of the dark. “What do you mean?”

  “Turns out he has a phobia about the dark.”

  “You’re kidding.” Skye was amazed. Who would have thought that someone as pugnacious as Nate Turner would be afraid of anything, let alone something as harmless as the dark?

  “I wish I were.” Simon smoothed down his hair. “As soon as the lights went out he grabbed me and said he couldn’t breathe and was having a heart attack.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, he’s too big for me to carry so I had him lie down on the floor. I kept trying to go for help, but every time I’d go to stand up, he’d grab my arm.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I had just found my cell phone and was getting ready to call 911 when the lights came back on.” Simon retucked his shirt. “Turner jumped up as if the floor was electrified, pushed me out of the way, and raced out the door.”

  “He is certainly an odd duck.” Skye gestured with her thumb at the kids sitting at the counter. “Then you missed the whole hullabaloo with the teenagers?”

  “Right. I ran into Bunny as I was coming out of the bathroom and she told me about the problem.” Simon frowned. “I didn’t think of it before, but I guess I should hire someone to work security.”

  “Might be a good idea.” Skye took his arm and squeezed. “But Bunny was amazing.”

  “She has a lot of hidden talents.” Simon’s expression was inscrutable.

  Skye tipped her head. “I just noticed. The music’s stopped again. They’re probably just taking a break, but maybe we should check and make sure everything’s okay.”

  “I suppose we’d better.” Simon put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the door to the basement. They climbed down the concrete steps. “I told Vince and his group that they could use one of the rooms in the basement. If they’re on break, they’re most likely down here.”

  Simon and Skye found the band members sprawled on chairs guzzling the beverages of their choice from a cooler of beer and soda
s.

  “Everything okay?” Simon asked.

  Two voices answered variations of yes, but Rod said, “Any chance of some food?”

  “There was supposed to be a tray of sandwiches and chips down here.” Simon turned to Skye. “Ivy must have forgotten with all the commotion. I’ll be right back.”

  After Simon left, Skye sat next to her brother. “How’s it going?”

  “Good.” Vince stretched and yawned.

  “Heather’s really a good vocalist.” Skye shot a glance at the girl singer, who sat a little apart, filing her nails. “How’s that arrangement working out?”

  “Okay.” Vince scratched his head. “It’s funny, but now that she’s singing with us she’s stopped trying to get us all to … uh, you know, uh …”

  “Sleep with her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, did you ever think maybe she only wanted to boink you guys so you’d let her in the band?” Skye rolled her eyes. Men could be so dense.

  “Yeah, but …”

  “But what?”

  Vince smiled. “But Macho Law prohibits me from admitting I might have been used.”

  Skye socked him in the shoulder and then looked up when she heard a voice saying, “Hi, guys. Sorry I forgot your snacks.”

  Ivy Logan was picking her way carefully down the stairs, carrying a huge serving dish of sandwiches and chips. As she reached the bottom, she glanced up and caught sight of Heather. Brown eyes locked with blue, and everyone held their breath.

  Ivy broke off the stare-down, turned to the men, and her voice dripping acid, asked, “What is she doing here?”

  Clearly, she had not been at Wally’s campaign rally, and no one had told her that Heather had joined Pink Elephant.

  When they didn’t answer her, she repeated her question.

  Vince, his face a dull red, mumbled, “Singing with the band.”

  Ivy flung the tray at Vince’s head and lunged at the younger woman, screaming, “You bitch! You killed my husband!”

  Heather tried to evade the enraged woman, but Ivy landed squarely on Heather. For a second it looked as if Ivy was giving Heather a lap dance, but then the chair toppled backward and both women landed on the floor.