Murder of a Smart Cookie: A Scumble River Mystery

by Swanson, Denise

  There was a pause before Simon muttered, “I wonder if I could get a plane home tomorrow morning?”

  Skye debated whether to offer her opinion and ended up saying, “What could you do if you were here? Bunny’s a grown woman. Maybe you could stop her from using the bowling alley, but you couldn’t stop her from making the tape.”

  “You’re right.” Simon wavered. “I’ve never been able to stop Bunny from doing anything.”

  “Look, I’ll go to the party at the bowling alley and keep an eye on things. If they get too out of hand, I’ll, I’ll …” Skye hesitated. What would she do? “I’ll steal the tape from the cameraman,” she promised rashly, then added, “Of course, that means I won’t talk to you tomorrow night, since I doubt I’ll be home much before midnight.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be out late, too. Spike got us tickets for a sold-out concert tomorrow night, then we’re invited to the orchestra party afterward. But I’ll phone you Saturday evening.”

  “I should be here for your call. The church is having an ice cream social, but that should wrap up pretty early. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Skye crossed her fingers as she hung up the receiver. She was going to need all the luck she could get in order to keep Bunny in line.

  Friday’s daylight hours had been quiet. The truth about Mrs. Griggs’s death was still not widely known, and the yard sale went smoothly—only minor traffic problems, a temporarily misplaced child, and a bad case of sunburn for Skye to deal with.

  Friday evening was another issue altogether. It started off badly when Jed suggested to May at supper that they go to the party at the bowling alley, saying Bunny had given him two tickets. The fight that ensued was not a pretty sight, and Skye slunk off to her room, struggling not to get involved.

  At seven she snuck out of the house. Her father was snoring in the recliner in front of the living room TV, while her mother had shut herself in the den, blaring that TV loud enough for Grandma Leofanti to hear—and she’d been dead for more than two years.

  Since it was apparent that her parents weren’t going to be using the tickets Bunny had given Jed, Skye helped herself to one of the pair sitting on the clothes dryer along with Jed’s change, wallet, and pocketknife. She was surprised her mother hadn’t torn them up and tossed them in the trash.

  Skye parked in the bowling alley’s crowded lot and walked around to the front, noticing as she did that most of the vehicles had out-of-state plates and many had small trailers hitched to them. Bunny’s party had attracted the tourists who were staying in or near Scumble River for the yard sale.

  Skye squinted as she pushed through the glass door and handed her ticket to the young woman guarding the entrance. The overhead lights had been dimmed, and some sort of strobe flashed red, green, yellow, and blue. The music was loud, but the overall noise level was even more deafening.

  As Skye stood in the entrance area, trying to get used to the strange lights, earsplitting noise, and overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke, she heard her name being called.

  Trixie was standing next to a table down by the rail that separated the bowling lanes from the rest of the establishment. She was waving her hands above her head and jumping up and down.

  Skye waved back and headed in her friend’s direction. As she made her way through the crowd, stopping every few feet to greet people and chat, she saw that the TV crew was present, busily filming the party.

  Frowning, Skye quickly scanned the area. Everyone was fully clothed and seemed to be behaving themselves. People were mostly drinking, bowling, and talking. Nothing the Playboy Channel would find very exciting.

  Good. Since things appeared to be under control, she could use this opportunity to talk to the TV crew about the mysterious appointment they’d had to tape Mrs. Griggs’s house.

  Skye hugged Trixie, then sat down and gestured to the remaining two empty chairs. “Are we saving these for anyone?” She was hoping the answer would be Owen, but she was disappointed.

  “This is actually Bunny’s table, so one is for her. The other is for the first cute guy I see.”

  Before Skye could pursue that remark, Trixie leaned forward and hissed, “Forget about the seating arrangements. What’s this about you being arrested yesterday morning?”

  “I wasn’t arrested, just brought in to answer some questions. I wasn’t handcuffed or anything,” Skye denied, then asked, “How did you hear about it? Did the sheriff call you to verify my alibi?”

  “No. The matron who sat in on your interrogation is the second cousin of my aunt’s daughter-in-law.”

  “You’re kidding.” Skye paused to try and follow the branches of Trixie’s family tree.

  “The matron recognized your name and called her cousin, who called her mother-in-law, who called me.”

  “Wow. I think that’s a record, even for this town.”

  “Quit stalling and tell me all about it. Don’t leave anything out,” Trixie ordered.

  Skye had been through this with her parents, Dante, Simon, and Wally. The first four were furious at the sheriff and ready to recall him from office. Wally hadn’t said anything negative against Buck Peterson, but his expression had been thunderous, and Skye would have bet her yard sale bonus that there was trouble brewing between the Scumble River Police and the Stanley County Sheriff’s Department.

  Regardless of everyone’s reaction, after repeating her story four times Skye was well rehearsed, and she recounted her experience to Trixie without hesitation. She ended by saying, “At least the sheriff kept his word. He told me there were no usable fingerprints at Cookie’s murder scene, and he gave me a list of what was in the bag the lion found.”

  “So, what was in it?”

  Skye looked around, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to them—which was fairly amazing considering that Trixie was wearing a denim miniskirt and a pink lace tank top, both of which were barely bigger than doll clothes.

  Skye beckoned her friend closer and lowered her voice. “A hand towel with bloodstains, a small cardboard box with cotton batting inside, and a woman’s purple T-shirt, size extra small, also with bloodstains.”

  “Did the bloodstains match Cookie’s blood?”

  “I don’t know. It was just a list of the contents.” Skye took another scan of the room and asked, “You don’t have any cousins twice removed who work at the county lab, do you?”

  “Not that I know of.” Trixie wrinkled her brow, thinking hard. “Nope.”

  They sat in silence for a while, staring at the bowlers and occasionally cheering someone who made a spectacular seven/ten pickup.

  Finally Skye said, “I’m going to get a soda. Do you want anything?”

  “Sure, get me a Bloody Mary.”

  Skye nodded and headed toward the bar. Was it her imagination or was Trixie drinking more than usual—the mar-garitas with May in Joliet, the mudslides and margaritas on the pontoon, and now a Bloody Mary? Maybe fighting with Owen was taking its toll on her.

  As Skye pushed through the swinging door to the bar area, she admired the new sleek look. Simon had remodeled the bowling alley after he purchased it, enclosing the bar area to create a small dance floor and building a stage off to the side.

  Tonight Godly Crüe was playing, and Skye wondered how Bunny had managed to book them. They should have been long gone from the area and back home in Alabama. She shrugged, then smiled. They didn’t play the kind of music that the Playboy Channel would be interested in. So far, there didn’t seem to be anything for the TV crew to film for their audition tape. Maybe things would be okay without her assistance.

  While Skye stood in line at the bar, she spotted Bunny strolling from table to table chatting with the customers. Skye waved, and the older woman headed toward her.

  Tonight Bunny had outdone herself. She wore a black vinyl tube top and matching low-riding bell-bottoms. A cherry red mesh top and ruby stiletto sandals completed her ensemble. Clearly it was time to cancel Bunny’s subscription to the Freder
ick’s of Hollywood catalog.

  After Bunny had enveloped Skye in an Obsession-scented hug, Skye asked, “How did you get Godly Crüe to come back? Don’t they live out of state?”

  “They decided to stick around. They’ve been playing most nights up and down the yard sale. I snapped them up when I heard they were still in the area. People really like them.”

  “Great. Looks like everything is going pretty well.” Skye sent up a little prayer before asking her next question. “Did you come up with something attention-grabbing for the audition tape for the Playboy Channel?”

  “Yes. I’ve got a fantastic stunt planned.” Bunny lowered her voice. “But Kirby told me we have to wait until Faith and her producer leave before we start filming.”

  Skye closed her eyes, trying to find the words that would deter Bunny from pursuing a career as a porn star, but before she could think of anything, the redhead caught sight of two men starting to argue in the corner and teetered off, saying over her shoulder, “I gotta take care of that. See ya later.”

  Skye turned back to the bar and placed her order. Hacker, the bartender, jerked his thumb at the band. “I heard you asking about those guys. Maybe the reason they been hanging around instead of going home has something to do with their lead singer’s love life.”

  Skye raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Yeah. He’s real popular with the ladies, especially the ones with a few years on them.”

  “You don’t say? He seems so … so clean-cut.”

  “Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.” Hacker continued to mix drinks as he talked. “Last Saturday night he was in here, and he started coming on to that broad that got killed.”

  “Cookie Caldwell?”

  “That’s the one.” He poured a stream of clear liquor from a bottle into a glass without spilling a drop. “Then, when I was going home that night around midnight after I got off work, I saw him coming out of her apartment.”

  “You sure see a lot.”

  “Hey.” Hacker grinned. “The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.”

  “And who wants to eat worms, right?”

  “Right. Anyway, a couple of nights ago he was talking to that TV star.”

  Skye raised her voice to be heard over the music. “Faith Easton? But she’s not older than he is.”

  “He’s in his late twenties, tops, and she’ll never see thirty-five again.” Hacker pointed to his temples and behind his ears. “She’s had some nips and tucks.”

  “No. I can’t believe she’s over twenty-eight.”

  Hacker winked. “I’m good at my job, and one of the reasons I’m so good is that I can peg someone’s age within a year.”

  “How old am I?”

  He didn’t even stop to consider. “Thirty-three, thirty-four.”

  This guy was insulting. Correct, but insulting. “Who else did he hit on?”

  “Miss Bunny, of course.” Hacker handed Skye her drinks and took the ten-dollar bill she gave him. “Not that he got anywhere. That lady can take care of herself. He won’t get anything off of her.”

  “Except a job,” Skye murmured to herself, then told Hacker to keep the change and went back to her table.

  She kept Trixie company until Theresa Dugan, a teacher at the elementary school, and Abby Fleming, the school district nurse, joined them. After a few minutes of polite small talk, Skye excused herself to go chat with the TV crew before Faith and Nick left.

  She found the TV group, minus its star, at a table in the back. After greeting them, she pulled out an empty chair and said, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you for a bit.”

  “Sure, have a seat. The more the merrier.” Nick smiled without warmth.

  Skye sat, then said to the producer, “Having a good time?”

  “Actually, we’re working. Just taking a break while Faith changes clothes.”

  “Do you have to haul all her clothes and accessories around for the shoots?” Skye asked Jody, the star’s personal assistant.

  “Sure do. Thank goodness for my weight training.” Jody flexed her arm, showing a small muscle.

  “I’m sort of confused as to why the writer would be along.” Skye turned her attention to Kirby Tucker.

  He looked happy to be included and answered readily, “You really can’t script this kind of show, and we never know what we’ll end up taping. It depends on what hot tips we get or what we hear on the police scanner. A lot of times I’m writing lines only a few minutes before the shot.”

  “That explains why you guys just seem to show up everywhere.” Skye was tempted to mention Kirby’s plan for after the star and producer left but decided that if she did, Bunny and the writer would just make the tape later when Skye wouldn’t be around to try and stop them. Instead she said to Nick, “I’m really curious how you persuaded Mrs. Griggs to let you film at her house.”

  “Mrs. Griggs? The name doesn’t ring a bell.” Nick suddenly became interested in the bowlers.

  “Really?” Skye raised an eyebrow. “That’s odd, because Kirby said you had an appointment to film at her house the day after she died.”

  “Oh, the old lady with the house full of stuff,” Nick acknowledged. He picked up a paper from the pile in front of him and brought it to eye level. “I guess I didn’t remember her name.”

  “Sure. Hard to remember everyone you meet in a situation like this,” Skye agreed. Then she pounced. “So, how did you get her to let you shoot at her house?”

  “I’m really not sure.” Nick looked around for help, but both Kirby and Jody were staring at him. “Faith arranged it, I think. Didn’t she, guys?”

  The other two shrugged.

  “Why is it such a big deal?”

  “Because Mrs. Griggs told me after Cookie tried to cheat her that she wouldn’t let anyone inside her house until the appraiser came.”

  “Maybe the appraiser had already been there,” Nick offered.

  “Nope. He couldn’t make it until Monday.”

  Nick swung around, facing the bowling lanes and putting his back to Skye. “Well, Faith is pretty persuasive.”

  “Maybe, but I heard Mrs. Griggs turn her down earlier in the week.”

  Nick spoke without looking back at her. “People change their minds.”

  “True. Guess I need to talk to Faith.” Skye got up and moved in front of Nick, forcing him to look at her. “Where did you say she was?”

  Jody jumped up. “I’ll take you. I need to go check and make sure everything is okay anyway.”

  She led Skye toward the basement steps. “Bunny let us use one of the rooms down here.” Skye followed the young woman down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Jody turned and admitted, “I don’t think we had an appointment to film at Mrs. Griggs’s place. I think we were going to pull a Michael Moore and just show up and surprise her.”

  Before Skye could ask any questions, Jody opened the door and pushed Skye in. For a second Skye thought she had been shanghaied, but then she saw Faith sitting at a table, peering into a mirror.

  The TV star spotted Skye and swung around. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had a question, and your crew told me where to find you.” Since Jody had not followed her into the dressing room, Skye figured the assistant didn’t want to be pointed out as the snitch.

  “Well, it’s quite unsuitable.” Faith turned back to the mirror. “It’s of paramount importance that I have some time to get in touch with my muse before the next shot.”

  Skye moved closer. “Just answer this one question and I’ll go.”

  “Very well.”

  “How did you get Mrs. Griggs to agree to let you film a segment of your show in her house?”

  “Mrs. Griggs?” Faith leaned closer to the mirror and erased a smudge under her eye. “Oh, the old lady outside of town. I asked and she said yes. Mystery solved.”

  “Except I heard her say no to you.”

  “She changed her min
d.” Faith swiveled around. “Say, do you know who her next of kin is? I still fancy a look around that house.”

  “No.” Skye remembered Mrs. Griggs’s saying she had no relatives, but she wasn’t going to tell Faith that. She didn’t believe for a minute that Mrs. Griggs had changed her mind, but there didn’t seem to be any way to shake the TV star’s story. Skye turned to leave, but then she came back. “One other thing. I understand you were talking to Will Murphy.”

  Faith looked puzzled.

  “The singer from the band playing upstairs?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Are you friends?” Skye wasn’t sure what to ask.

  “Dear, a lot of people try to chat up a TV star. That doesn’t make us friends.”

  “Oh. Do you remember what he wanted?”

  This time Faith looked put out. “Yes. All he wanted to talk about was antiques and collectibles, especially Civil War swords.” She swung back to the mirror. “Now, if you’re through, I’d be ever so grateful if you’d bugger off.”

  Faith and Nick left the bowling alley at nine, and Skye rejoined Trixie, Abby, and Theresa at their table as she waited anxiously to see what Bunny had come up with. Nearly half an hour passed, and the only thing that happened was that the bowling lanes emptied one by one as people finished their games and were not allowed to start new ones.

  Trixie was telling a funny story when the PA system crackled to life.

  There was a drumroll and then Bunny’s voice ordered, “Anyone under eighteen must now leave the building.”

  Skye tensed. This had to be it. What had Bunny come up with?

  After a few minutes, while the few underage teens grudgingly exited the alley, Bunny strutted out onto the lanes. She had changed clothes and now wore only three triangles of crimson Spandex. Two were tied together between her breasts with a satin bow and the other was held in place by two ribbons that circled her hips.

  Skye groaned. Simon was going to kill his mother.

  Bunny smiled widely and spoke into the cordless microphone she held to her glistening red lips. “We have a special treat for you all tonight. Bikini bowling! Most slots have already been taken, but if anyone wishes to join us I have several bikinis in the back room for you to change into.” Bunny waited, but no one volunteered. Finally she said, “Okay, let’s get started. Bikini bowlers, take your places!”