When he spotted her, he said, “Getting a late start today?”
“Yeah. I had a hard time waking up this morning.” Skye noted that his greeting wasn’t as warm as usual, but she figured he was preoccupied with the investigation. “I called to ask if you had heard anything about the bouquet holder yet, and Thea said you were here talking to Iris.”
“Yeah. County called the minute I walked into my office this morning.” Wally glanced around the parking lot. “Let’s sit in the squad so we’re not overheard.”
Skye barely waited until the car doors were closed before she asked, “Are you arresting Iris?”
“No.” Wally hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Damn it! Everything that connects her to the bouquet holder is circumstantial.”
“What did County find out?” Skye was torn—relieved Iris was still free to work the wedding but discouraged they weren’t making any progress on the case.
“The bouquet holder does match the wound on Belle’s head, and they even found a strand of her hair caught in the seam, but with no usable prints we don’t know who wielded the weapon.”
“I’m guessing that because the bouquet holder wasn’t on the invoice, Iris claims she has no knowledge of it.”
“Exactly.” Wally’s nostrils flared.
“How did Iris explain what she’d said about Belle being a pain?”
“She maintains that while the vic was difficult to work for, she made more money off Belle’s weddings than any three or four other planners’ events put together.”
“So why kill the golden goose?” Skye tapped her chin. “That would be true for all the vendors.”
“Maybe the California ones, but for the local businesses this is a one-shot deal.”
“True.”
“Also, the method makes it look like an unplanned murder. A heat-of-the-moment killing.”
“Right.” Skye nodded. “Whoever did this wasn’t prepared. Something Belle did or said must have set him—or her—off. Which means it could be anyone. She had a knack for finding a person’s sore spot and poking at it until they screamed.”
“What do you mean?”
“She knew Riley was intent on having the wedding in Scumble River, so Belle threatened to move it back to California if she didn’t get a local assistant. And with Iris, Belle continually questioned her creative vision just to see her squirm.”
“This last month has been tough on you.” Wally’s voice was cool.
“I’m used to handling mean people. I work in public education, remember?” What was he getting at?
“But this is your vacation. Your time to recover from being poked at.” Wally frowned. “If you’d let me help you out, you wouldn’t have to take these summer jobs. I could lend you the money to fix up your house.”
“I already have one home-improvement loan. I don’t want to get in over my head. Besides, I might not be a good investment,” Skye teased. “You could lose your shirt.”
She had no idea how much money Wally had. His father was a multimillionaire, but because Wally refused to work for his dad, she didn’t know whether he had only his chief of police salary, or some sort of trust fund. It seemed mercenary to ask him before she accepted his proposal, but the whole money issue was one of the big reasons she couldn’t decide whether to marry him or not. She’d been engaged to one wealthy guy, and that hadn’t worked out very well.
“I’m sure you’re a great investment,” Wally said flatly. “But you’re not sure if I am.”
“That’s not true,” she protested. “It’s just—”
“But I guess I shouldn’t complain, since I was the one who talked you into filling in for Belle so you could help me out.”
“Yes. You did.” Skye jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “You owe me big-time for that.”
“You’re right. I do.” Wally’s tone was thoughtful. “And I had to renege on dinner last night, too. I hope you weren’t too disappointed.”
Skye felt her heart sink. Did he know about her dinner with Simon? Should she tell Wally what he had said? Wally had enough on his mind, and he’d have a fit when he heard. He was already jealous of her ex-boyfriend.
“Skye? Are you there?”
“Sorry.” Great. She had hesitated too long, and now he was looking at her funny. “I was just thinking.”
Wally raised an eyebrow. “So, did you go right home last night?”
“Well, actually, no.” Shoot! He definitely knew something. Skye bet that the newspaperwoman had called him, told him she had seen Skye and Simon together, and offered him the details for an exclusive about the murder. Skye was pretty sure Wally wouldn’t make that deal, but she realized she’d better fess up. “Simon took me to get a bite to eat to thank me for helping his mother.”
“Was Bunny with you?”
“Uh.” Skye bit her lip. “No. She was probably too tired after all she’d been through.”
“Bunny Reid? Too tired to go out? Are we talking about the same woman? Red hair, fake boobs, about five-seven?”
“Very funny.” Skye’s swatted his biceps. “Okay, so Bunny wasn’t too tired. Maybe Simon was tired of her.”
“That’s a lot more likely, but my guess is he wanted to be alone with you.”
Skye made a noncommittal sound. She hadn’t decided if she should reveal what Simon had said.
“Where did you eat? The Feed Bag was closed. Did you go to McDonald’s?”
“No. Did you know there’s a new restaurant a few miles south of town on the river?”
“Yeah. A couple from Clay Center opened it up a few weeks ago. It’s called the Moonstone.”
“The food was good, and it has a really pretty view.” Skye tried to distract him. “We should go sometime.”
“I have reservations for us for Sunday.” Wally stared at her with angry eyes. “I thought it would be a nice place to celebrate our engagement. That is if you’re finally ready to forget the past and start our future together.”
“Oh.” Skye studied her left hand, which was bare of Wally’s ring. He had a right to be angry about her indecisiveness. “I know you’re right.”
“But I think I’ll come up with somewhere else now.” Wally’s mouth had formed a thin white line.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to go to a place you associate with Reid.”
Skye nodded, feeling terrible. Wally was a good man, and she loved him. She pressed her fingers against her temples. Should she just tell Simon it was too late and tell Wally yes right now? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
After a few seconds of silence, Wally sighed, seeming to resign himself that he’d have to wait a few more days for her decision. “Well, I should let you get to work.”
“Right. Frannie and Justin will be here any second, and there are five hundred little pink boxes with their names on them.”
“I need to go over to Laurel and put a fire under the crime tech’s butt.” Wally started the car. “He still hasn’t identified all the prints on the carton the bouquet holder was hidden behind.”
“Any other leads?”
“No. Our most credible suspects are Iris and the tent-and-rental man. I’m not convinced he wasn’t the one with Belle at the Brown Bag the night of her murder. You told me she claimed that she never went to bed alone, and a lot of women are attracted to those big, tough, tattooed guys.”
“True. At least for a one-night fling. And from what they said yesterday during the dance lesson, it doesn’t look as if any of the groomsmen were involved with her. And Riley said she never allowed Nick to be alone with Belle,” Skye reported. “Tonight at the shower I’ll ask the bridesmaids if one of Belle’s exes might have wanted to see her dead.”
“Sounds good,” Wally agreed. “That pretty much leaves the photographer, the linen consultant, and the dress-shop owner as the most viable secondary suspects. They all have obvious financial motives.”
“Now, if we could only find s
omeone who saw one of them in Scumble River late Saturday night.”
“I’ve got Quirk and Martinez showing their pictures around town, but no luck so far.” Wally shook his head. “At least the vic’s parents are due back today. There’s something funny about them not responding to any of my messages.”
“Do I see a trip to California in your future?” Skye tilted her head. “I bet you’d look good in surfer gear.”
Wally grunted. “I can just imagine trying to get the city to pay for that.”
“Yeah. The only way that would fly is if they all got to go with you.”
“And brought their wives.” Wally kissed her cheek. “I’ve got my cell on if you need me.”
“Okay.” Skye slid out of the cruiser. “I’ll put mine on, too.”
“You be careful today. We still have no idea who killed Belle or why. The feds may be convinced it was the counterfeiters, but I’m not so sure.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute. “See you tonight at five thirty.”
By the time Frannie and Justin arrived at nine, Skye had unpacked one carton of each of the favor’s four components and set up an assembly line. She showed them how to put together the gift boxes, place the wine-bottle stopper and corkscrew set inside, attach the tiny heart-shaped thank-you card to the ribbon, and tie the bows.
Once the teens were busy, she went to see how Iris was doing. Skye found her knee-deep in roses and orchids. Apparently the deliveryman had offloaded the flowers on the curb and left.
“Hi.” Skye waved. “Need a hand?”
“Please.” Iris hefted a huge white plastic bucket of long-stemmed pink roses. “These need to get into the floral refrigerator as soon as possible.”
As they went back and forth with the containers, Skye commented, “I’ve never seen this many flowers in one place before.”
“Yes.” Iris placed a pail of orchids on a shelf in the rear of the cooler. “Normally there would be half this many, maybe even a third, but your cousin and her fiancé wanted something lavish.”
“I can believe that.” Skye wiped her brow. “Scumble River will be talking about this wedding for the next fifty years.”
“Riley’s exact words were that she wanted the décor to be ‘jaw-dropping.’”
“Knowing what’s planned, I’d say Riley should be able to hear the chins hitting the floor.”
“She’d better or I’ll be in trouble.” Iris didn’t sound as if she was kidding.
“Even with Belle out of the picture?” Skye asked. When Iris shrugged, she added, “I bet this is the first event you’ve ever worked at that had the preparations interrupted by a murder.”
“Yes. Thank goodness.”
Skye glanced at the tiny woman as she said, “Although I’m sure some of the people working for Belle in the past have wanted to kill her.”
“Maybe.” Iris shrugged again.
“I know since this wedding isn’t local, Belle is using a lot of new vendors, but how about the ones she arranged to come from California?” Skye pretended to focus on a pail of greenery. “Do you think any of them got fed up with her demands?”
“Besides me, you mean?”
“Of course.”
“The other regulars aren’t arriving until Friday,” Iris answered.
“Oh.” So much for that theory. As the two women worked in companionable silence, Skye said, “I just have to ask, did your name influence your choice of profession?”
“In a way.” Iris hefted the last container onto the shelf. “My parents owned a florist shop. They named all their children after flowers.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Three. Hyacinth, Daisy, and Rose.” Iris waited for Skye to walk out of the refrigerator, then followed her. After locking the door behind them, she asked, “Is this the only key?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not good.” Iris tucked a lock of straight black hair behind her ear. “I tend to lose stuff like keys.”
“Is that why I keep finding the cabin you’re using for storage unlocked?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What do you do at home?” Skye couldn’t understand how someone so successful and seemingly organized in every other way couldn’t keep track of a small thing like a key.
“My assistant, aka husband, takes care of those issues.”
“And he isn’t arriving until Friday?” Skye confirmed, remembering the floral designer had mentioned the date yesterday.
“Yes, he’s stopping in Chicago to pick up the crew I hired and should be here by midmorning.”
“Good.” Skye smiled. “Have you ever tried wearing the key around your neck? You could put the keys to your cabin, the storage cabin, and the refrigerator all on the same chain.”
“That’s a great idea.” Iris brightened. “But I don’t have a chain that’s sturdy enough.”
This was like dealing with a first grader. “I’ll find something that will work.”
“Here, you hold on to the key.” Iris thrust the tiny piece of metal into Skye’s hand.
“I’ll be right back.” Skye ran toward the cottage where Justin and Frannie were working to get a length of the narrow favor ribbon for the keys. As she entered she heard the teens arguing.
“You tell her. She likes you better.” Justin’s voice cracked.
“I’m not telling her. I told her about the misspelling on the menus and programs. It’s your turn.” Frannie’s tone was stubborn. “And she does not like me better.”
Skye cleared her throat and the teens looked in her direction.
“Uh, hi, Ms. D.” Frannie shoved her boyfriend forward. “Justin has something to tell you.”
“I do not.” Justin backed up. “You figured it out; you tell her.”
Skye glanced at her watch. It was past ten o’clock. “Somebody tell me already. I’m late leaving for the country club as it is.”
Frannie shot Justin an evil look, then swallowed and said, “There aren’t enough pink boxes. We’re fifty short.”
“Crap!” Skye felt like hitting something. Preferably her cousin, the picky bride.
“I called the company listed on the packing order,” Frannie volunteered. “They can’t get us the rest of them until Monday at the earliest.”
“Which is useless,” Skye finished Frannie’s thought.
“I checked online, Ms. D.,” Justin offered. “But no one has the exact same ones in stock, and even with overnight shipping we wouldn’t get the boxes until Thursday or Friday.”
“Terrific.” Skye closed her eyes. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
Justin shook his head, but Frannie squealed, “A shopping trip!”
“And you know the only place around here that might have something like that?” Skye’s expression didn’t match the teenage girl’s.
“Wal-Mart!” Frannie jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “We’re going to Wal-Mart!”
Skye rolled her eyes. Just what she needed. A Wal-Mart shopping extravaganza.
CHAPTER 17
Bang for Your Buck
The Wal-Mart in Laurel was surrounded by a parking lot the size of Rhode Island. And, as usual, it was full. To most of the inhabitants of Stanley County, shopping there wasn’t a quick in-and-out trip; it was a day’s entertainment. It wasn’t just a store; it was an amusement park.
Which was exactly what Skye was worried about. Justin had agreed to remain behind to continue assembling the favors, but Frannie had begged to go with Skye. The teen had prevailed when she pointed out that they could take separate cars, and she could bring the boxes back to Scumble River while Skye went directly to the country club. Now all Skye had to do was keep Frannie from getting distracted by the merchandise.
Frannie and Skye were able to park relatively close to each other, but their walk to the entrance was interrupted at least a dozen times by folks stopping them to say hello and ask what they were there to buy—a small-town social ritual that Skye had com
e to accept. Once Skye and Frannie were inside, they were hailed by another handful of Scumble Riverites before selecting a cart, and even more as they began their search for the party-supply section of the superstore.
Skye rarely entered the behemoth structure, but Frannie confidently steered them toward the right. They turned the corner next to a rack of Father’s Day cards, zigzagged past the wrapping paper and bows, and entered the party-goods aisle.
Oh, my gosh! For a moment Skye was stunned, overwhelmed by the countless displays of Hello Kitty paper plates, Spider-Man napkins, My Pretty Pony tablecloths, and tiny toys of every description. Was anything here not designed to lure parents into overspending for little Susie’s or Billy’s birthday extravaganza?
Shaking off her amazement, Skye hoisted her purse more securely on her shoulder and scanned the shelves. “Do you see any items without logos, Frannie?”
The teen started to shake her head, then pointed to the far end. “Maybe down there.”
Skye squinted. “Where?”
Frannie took off at a jog, tossing an “I’ll go check” over her shoulder.
As Skye walked in the direction Frannie had indicated, she attempted to keep an eye on both sides of the aisle. She was in midstride when she glimpsed a patch of unadorned pink and skidded to a halt.
A nanosecond later a shopping cart rammed into the back of her knees, and a whiny female voice screamed, “Get the hell out of my way.”
Flailing her arms in an effort not to fall, Skye did an awkward pirouette and found herself staring into Glenda Doozier’s rabbitlike eyes. Skye’s heart sank. Of all the people she didn’t want to run into when she was in a hurry, Glenda and her husband, Earl, topped the list.
Skye likened the Dooziers to a pack of wild hyenas, intensely loyal to their own group but lacking the ability or desire to care about anyone else. They weren’t known for being the brightest flashlights in the woods, but they did have a talent for stumbling on, and taking advantage of, those whose bulbs were even dimmer. In a town like Scumble River, which was surrounded by railroad tracks, it was impossible to say someone lived on the wrong side of them, but the Dooziers came mighty close.
Earl was skinny, except for the small potbelly that hung over the elastic waist of his shorts, and a head shorter than his statuesque wife. His greasy brown hair formed a horseshoe around a cereal bowl–size bald spot on top of his head.
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