“One of my many character flaws,” Skye joked.
“What are you going to do about them kidnapping you?”
“Nothing. What can I do, tell their mommy?” Skye looked disgusted.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But maybe sometime, someplace you’ll get a chance to get even, and I’d love to be there.” Trixie’s grin was wicked. “Anyway, where can I take you? Home?”
“No, my car’s at school. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.” Skye examined the blister on her heel.
“Nothing. I was just taking a ride.” Trixie put the Mustang in gear.
“This is a beautiful vehicle. I can see why you’d like driving around.” Skye ran an admiring hand over the upholstery.
“I bought it for my thirtieth birthday. Owen wanted me to get a minivan.”
Both women looked at each other and said, “Men.”
The twins’ little detour had cost Skye a lot of time. It was nearly six o’clock when she turned off the Buick’s ignition and exited the car in front of her cottage. She immediately noticed something was wrong.
Broken glass littered the area around the house. The foyer and kitchen windows were shattered. Circling the house, Skye saw there was not one intact pane left on the building. She started inside, but stopped before crossing the threshold. Seizing Bingo, who had come to the door to greet her, she backed toward her car, checked the backseat for intruders, and slid inside.
After locking the doors, she sat for a moment to catch her breath. Skye was surprised to find herself shaking. Suddenly, the privacy she valued in her home’s secluded location seemed like a threatening isolation. She backed the Buick onto the road and headed toward the police station.
Skye knew her mother wasn’t working and she figured that Chief Boyd would have already left for the day, so she wasn’t sure if she’d know anyone on duty.
The dispatcher was a stranger to her. Skye couldn’t believe the woman was above the twenty-one years of age required for the job. Her name tag read “Crystal.”
Taking a deep breath and smoothing her hair, Skye spoke across the counter. “Hello, my name is Skye Denison and I need to report some vandalism to my home.”
Crystal wrinkled her forehead “Like, okay, ma’am, but the, uhm, officer is out patrolling.”
“Could you radio for him to come in? I’ll wait.” Skye frowned. Ma’am? Do I look like a ma’am? How old does she think I am? I’ll never go to bed without putting on my face lotion again.
“Uhm, well, okay, but it could be a while.” Crystal sat down in front of her console and grimaced.
Skye took a seat in the cracked vinyl bench provided for those who had business with the police.
Only a few minutes had gone by and she was rummaging in her purse for something to eat, having missed lunch and not yet had dinner, when the door was flung open.
Officer Quirk marched past her and leaned across the counter. “Crystal, how many times have you been told not to mention names on the radio?”
Crystal chewed on a nail. “Sorry, I forgot.” Her face darkened. “Like, there are too many rules and things to remember. This is way harder than my last job.”
Quirk seemed to see Skye for the first time. “Her last job was of the fast-food variety,” he said. “She told us it was too much pressure.”
Skye followed Quirk to the back of the station into a room with a table and chairs. “So why did she get hired here? She’s obviously a few fries short of a Happy Meal.”
Quirk grabbed a pen and a clipboard with a pad of forms attached, then sat at the table. “Did you catch her full name?”
Sitting across from him, Skye pursed her lips. “No. What is it?”
“Clapp, Crystal Clapp.”
“That’s awful. So she was hired out of pity?” Skye arched a brow.
“No, she was hired out of self-preservation. Eldon Clapp, our beloved mayor, is her father.” Quirk sat back, his leather utility belt squeaking. “Now what can I do for you, Ms. Denison?”
Skye explained about the windows and reminded him that earlier in the week her tires had been slashed.
“Sounds like you’ve got an enemy. Can you think of anyone who would want to harass you?” Quirk didn’t look up from the form he was filling out.
Her mind flew to the Yoders, Hap Doozier, and the Underwoods before flitting briefly to the twins and her Uncle Dante. She took a deep breath. “Would you like the list alphabetically or divided by family versus workplace?”
CHAPTER 8
Ladybug, Ladybug, Fly Away Home
After finishing with Quirk, Skye called her insurance agent, a cousin on her father’s side. “Kevin, this is Skye. How’re you doing?”
“Fine, fine. Sorry to hear about your grandma.”
“Thanks.” Skye took a deep, calming breath. It was difficult to talk about her. “I’ll really miss her.”
“Yeah, I remember you were close to Antonia. When you were gone for so many years it seemed like, besides your parents and Vince, she was the only one you kept in contact with. I think our mutual grandma was a little jealous.”
“I sent Grandma Denison a postcard every week I was away.” Skye felt guilty she hadn’t been to see that grandmother in a while. “Anyway, the reason I called is business rather than family. The cottage I’m renting was vandalized.”
Kevin’s tone became serious. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I wasn’t home at the time. On first glance it looks like they broke all the windows, but I didn’t go inside.”
“Did you report this to the police?” Kevin sounded concerned.
“I’m calling from the station. Officer Quirk is filing the necessary papers and has headed out to investigate. Can you believe he ordered me not to go with him?” Skye frowned at the memory.
“Yes, I can believe it. Especially after your adventure in investigation last fall. Let the police do the job they’re paid to do.” He paused, as if reluctant to ask the next question. “Did you ever get the check for your car?”
“Not yet, and I need it so I can give Grandma’s Buick back to the estate. Isn’t there anything you can do? The company did finally admit my car was totaled.”
“There was some hang-up because technically the damage didn’t occur due to an accident. Still, I thought they had resolved that issue. I’ll check on it tomorrow.” Kevin paused again. “Did I hear that your tires were slashed a couple days ago?”
“Yes.” She answered cautiously, wondering what his question was leading up to.
“Are you going to make a claim?” he asked.
“Shouldn’t I?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. Your premium has already been raised because of the other incidents. And you’d barely get anything after the deductible. You really need to be more careful.”
“Yeah, right. Like I go around trying to get my property destroyed.” Skye abruptly changed the subject. “So, what’s the drill for my windows?”
Kevin sighed. “Get two estimates. Have the cheapest do the work. Send us the bill and the police report. If everything is in order, we’ll cut you a check.”
“That’s it? Where am I supposed to live while all this is done?”
“You opted for the cheap policy, remember? It doesn’t provide for motel stays or rental cars.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Skye chewed her lip. “I just didn’t have the extra hundred at the time and I didn’t want to ask my parents for money.” Skye clutched the receiver. “So, that’s it, then. Anyone you can recommend to do the job?”
“We aren’t allowed to make suggestions. All we do is pay the bill. Provided you follow directions.” Kevin sounded uncomfortable.
“I see. So I’m covered with you guys as long as I don’t actually need anything.” Skye hung up the phone.
She looked around the police station. Its walls were painted a gray semigloss. Probably so they would wash down easily. The table where she sat was rectangular with a peeling wood-grained plastic top. Not exa
ctly fancy, but imparting a certain comfort.
Skye was reluctant to make the next call, but she knew it would be better to break the news herself than let the grapevine get first crack at it.
Finally, she raised the receiver and punched in the seven digits that were as familiar as her Social Security number. “Hi, Mom, it’s Skye.”
May was quiet when Skye told her about the windows, distressed when she heard that the farmhouse had been searched, and sobbing when she was told about Mrs. Jankowski. She ordered Skye home immediately.
“But, Mom, I’ve got to go back to the cottage to pick up some clothes and toiletries.” She hesitated. “And, you do realize, I’ll have to bring Bingo with me.”
“Can’t you leave the cat there? It’ll be okay overnight.” The distaste sounded thick in May’s throat.
“There’s glass all over. He could cut himself. It’s either both of us or neither. Maybe it’d be better if I got a cabin at Uncle Charlie’s motor court.”
May sighed. “No. No. I guess you can bring that animal here. Your dad will meet you at your place in fifteen minutes.”
“Dad doesn’t need to come. Quirk is checking it out.”
May went on as if she hadn’t heard Skye. “Don’t go in without him.”
“Look, it’s silly to bother Dad. I’ll be at your house in twenty minutes, tops.”
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” May’s voice thickened with tears. “Wait for your father. Just this once, do it my way.”
“Yes, Mom.”
When Skye got back to her car, she found Bingo standing with his front paws on the window ledge, peering into the darkness. Gently moving him over so she could slide in, Skye felt his sides vibrating in happy purrs. As soon as she was settled, he tried to climb onto her lap.
Shifting him to the passenger seat, Skye put the car in gear and drove off.When they arrived at the cottage, Quirk was gone and Jed hadn’t yet shown up.
Skye stroked the cat’s lush black fur and let her thoughts tumble through her mind like clothes in a dryer. She had forgotten to telephone Simon again. When he heard everything that had happened he was going to be ticked that she hadn’t called him for help.
Maybe she could go inside and call him right then, before her father arrived. Skye looked at the door. It was nearly eight and shadows were forming everywhere.
Before she could get out of the car, her father braked his old blue pickup next to her and walked toward the entrance cradling a shotgun. “Stay in back of me.” Jed was not one for idle chitchat.
Skye trailed a few steps behind her dad, feeling like a child. She shouldn’t have waited for him. The police had checked out the house and it was safe. She should be doing this by herself.
Jed held out his hand for the keys. Skye rummaged through the inside zippered section of her purse for the spare set since she had given Officer Quirk the ones she normally carried on her ring. Jed tapped his foot impatiently.
After he opened the door, Jed whispered, “Wait here until I check things out.”
“Officer Quirk was already through the place once,” Skye whispered back. “Let’s just go in, I’ll pack, and we can get out of here.”
“After I take a look.” He gave her a stern look. “Stay.”
Skye was leaning against the railing, thinking that if he spoke to his dog, Chocolate, the way he had just spoken to her, maybe he could finally train the animal. Then she heard gunshots.
Without thinking she rocketed through the door, slamming into her father in the foyer as he charged out of the living room. Both of them stumbled back. Jed sat abruptly on the hall bench and Skye fell sprawled to the wooden floor. Without speaking, Jed struggled to his feet, grabbed Skye by the back of the collar, and dragged her out the door. She felt like a crab walking backwards.
Outside, he continued to pull her behind him, not stopping until they were in his truck with the doors locked.
Skye gasped for breath. “What happened?”
“Saw someone in your front room. Came toward me and I shot ’em.” Jed snatched the mike from his CB and put in a call to the police.
“But I heard more shots. Did they shoot back?” Skye looked anxiously at her father.
“Yup. That’s when I hightailed it out of there.” Jed took a red hanky from his pocket and wiped the sweat off his face.
Only a minute or two passed before Quirk’s squad car squealed into the driveway, lights flashing and siren screaming.
Quirk and a man dressed as a sheriff’s deputy jumped out of the cruiser, conferred briefly with Jed, then approached the cottage. Skye watched them split up, the deputy going toward the back. Quirk peeked into windows and crept around corners.
He finally entered the house after shouting, “Police!”
Moments later, Quirk and the deputy emerged holding something that glinted in the headlights.
“Mr. Denison, I believe this is what you saw.” Quirk motioned to the deputy and they held the object up between them.
It had once been a bouquet of giant Mylar balloons. The brightly colored spheres now dangled, deflated and full of holes, from the small sack of sand designed to keep them from floating to the ceiling.
Skye’s brows met over her nose. “How did that get inside my house?”
Quirk looked uncomfortable. “It was delivered when I was here looking at your window damage. I let the guy put it in the living room. He set the arrangement on the floor since it was so big. The balloons floated about five feet from the ground.”
“The sound of the balloons popping when Dad shot them must have been what we thought was someone returning fire,” Skye offered. The men nodded. “What he thought was a person coming at him was probably the balloons swaying forward in a breeze from the broken windows.”
The deputy rocked on his heels. “Yup. It could have happened that way.”
They stood in silence until Skye said, “I wonder who the balloons were from. Was there a card?”
Shrugging, Quirk rested his hand on his gun. “I didn’t see one.”
“I’ll check with Simon. They were probably from him.” Skye turned to Quirk. “Is it okay to go in now? I need to pack a few things. I’m going to stay with my parents until the windows are fixed.”
The men communed silently. Finally, Quirk spoke. “I think the chief would be less likely to chew my butt off if I escorted you. Try to make it quick, all right?”
Skye readjusted the strap of her canvas briefcase over her shoulder as she climbed the steep steps to the high school’s front entrance. Her head ached from lack of sleep after having stared at the ceiling all night, trying to figure out who hated her enough to slash her tires and break her windows.
She fought waves of nausea and a headache caused by a breakfast too large, a morning too hot, and a firing squad waiting for her behind the glass doors.
May had insisted Skye eat every bite of the many dishes she had prepared. Being accustomed to only tea and toast in the morning, Skye felt as force-fed as a calf about to become veal.
Once again Skye had tried to take a day off by using a personal day, but this time she’d been told the superintendent wanted to see her at nine sharp. A parent had made a complaint against her.
Nervously clearing her throat, Skye made eye contact with the superintendent’s secretary, a tall, voluptuous woman in her late forties with wavy red hair floating over her shoulders. Everyone insisted that she was having an affair with her boss, but no one could prove it.
Skye tried smiling. “Hi, Karolyn. I understand Dr. Wraige wants to see me.”
Karolyn arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow and made a show of flipping the pages in her appointment book. “Yes, I see you’re down for nine.” She looked up at the clock and tsked. “You’re a few minutes early and he’s on the phone.”
Having not been offered a seat, Skye stood off to one side watching the minutes tick by. The outer office was old-fashioned, with dark wood paneling and matching furnishings. The computer termina
l on the back wall looked out of place.
She was about to ask to use the adjoining rest room when the phone buzzed and Karolyn rose from her desk. She unlatched the waist-high gate and allowed Skye into the inner office. Knocking once, Karolyn opened the door slightly and stood back.
As soon as Skye squeezed her way through, the door was pulled shut. The superintendent sat in a huge leather chair behind a massive walnut desk. Matching onyx in-box, pencil cup, and blotter were the only items on its smudgeless glass top.
He gestured for Skye to take a seat in one of the wing chairs facing him.
Dr. Wraige laced his fingers across his chest and stared through watery blue eyes. His gray hair, swept back in a pompadour, was the exact shade of his suit and skin. After a few moments of intimidating silence, he spoke. “Miss Denison, we seem to have a little problem.”
“Oh?” Skye knew how to play the waiting game, even if she didn’t enjoy it.
He drummed his fingers on his stomach. “It seems that one of your recent decisions has caused an upset for some parents.”
Her mind raced. Which ones? The Yoders, Mr. Doozier, the Underwoods? I can’t let on there is more than one. “I see. What exactly is the problem?”
“Don’t play coy with me. It’s Mayor Clapp’s son.” The superintendent leaned forward. “He was not happy with the results of your evaluation.”
“Why?” Skye was truly confused.
This had been a strange case all along. Cray Clapp was a senior with good grades and a top five-percent ranking in his class. When Skye had first received the referral, she had turned it down since the boy did not seem to have any characteristics that would suggest a learning disability. His IQ and achievement seemed to match, and if he had any processing problems, they weren’t interfering with his learning.
The high school principal, Homer Knapik, had ordered her to do the assessment regardless. So, she had wasted three hours of her time and the student’s. And as she’d suspected, he’d shown no sign of having a learning disability.
Dr. Wraige squirmed. “Perhaps you’re not aware of Cray’s score on the ACT.”
“No, I can’t say that I am.” Skye looked puzzled. “That’s not the type of testing I do.”
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