“That’s pretty much what we’ve heard about her,” Skye agreed. “I know there were probably a lot of people who disliked her for taking the moral high ground, but have you heard about anyone who was seriously threatened by or angry with her about her ethics?”
“She left me a folder with some of her concerns.” Judy bit her lip. “In fact, I just discovered it this morning in the computer files. Evidently, she had planned on e-mailing it to me at the conclusion of her employment, but she must have been killed before she had the chance to send it.” Judy sighed. “Yvonne was supposed to be on duty this week. I wasn’t scheduled to go back to work until January second.”
“The police will need a copy of that file.”
“I already printed out Yvonne’s report and dropped it off with the dispatcher.” Judy glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. It’s almost time to open up the library.”
“Was there anything she’d written in her notes that we should check into right away? Maybe somebody who frightened her?”
Judy opened the door, then turned and said, “There was one person Yvonne seemed more intimidated by than the others.” Judy gazed at the protestors. “She had somehow found out about the mayor’s plan to eliminate the police department and put up an incinerator—probably because when Dante’s talking on the phone, you can often hear him through the heating vents that connect his office to mine.”
“Oh?” Skye tucked away that piece of info in case she ever wanted to eavesdrop on her uncle. “Was the mayor aware that Yvonne knew about his scheme?”
“Yes.” Judy nodded. “She gave him an ultimatum. If he didn’t come forward and inform the townspeople about his plan before Yvonne left Scumble River, she was going to the newspaper with the information.”
“Thanks, Judy.” Skye waved as the young librarian disappeared up the stairs.
For a long time, Skye stood staring into space as her thoughts raced. Her fears had been confirmed. Dante was a viable suspect. There was no way for her to deny that her uncle had an excellent motive to murder Yvonne. Finally, she turned and walked slowly toward the police department’s door.
Skye had just stepped into the station and was thinking how awkward it would be to have Dante at the wedding if she and Wally were investigating him for murder when another thought popped into her head. Shoot! The cake topper had to be at the bakery by two thirty today.
As promised, Isla had delivered it to the PD Wednesday night and Skye had picked it up yesterday, but she hadn’t had a chance to get it to Tom Riley. And between the Dante situation and reinterviewing Neil Osborn, there was no guarantee she’d be able to make it to Laurel anytime soon.
Whom could she ask to run it over to the bakery? Skye had tried really hard not to be a demanding bride who expected her attendants to drop everything and be at her beck and call, but this was an emergency. She pulled out her cell and dialed, praying that Trixie was free.
When her friend agreed to handle the delivery, Skye heaved a sigh of relief. She quickly told Trixie where her spare house key was hidden and that the cake topper was on the dining room table, then said goodbye and went to look for Wally.
Figuring he’d be in his office, Skye made her way to the back of the station and hurried up the stairs. Pausing on the top step, she glanced uneasily to her right. A year ago, Dante had had an opening cut between the city hall and the police department, and she was always half afraid her uncle would pop out through the archway like an ax murderer in a horror flick.
When she saw that Dante’s door was closed, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. However, since there was a light coming from underneath the mayor’s door, she tiptoed past the entrance to his lair and down the hall toward Wally’s office. She knew they’d eventually have to confront her uncle, but she wasn’t ready to deal with him yet. First she needed to talk to Wally.
She found him behind his desk surrounded by his officers, all of whom were speaking at once. Skye waited a few seconds, hating to interrupt, but when they continued talking, she signaled Wally with a jerk of her head that she needed to see him alone. He nodded, murmured something to Quirk, and joined her in the hallway.
Once he closed the door, Skye launched into a blow-by-blow account of what had happened since she’d learned of her uncle’s scheme. She finished with, “And I’m so sorry that once again someone in my family is a pain in your rear end.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Wally hugged her. “None of this is your fault.” He paused. “Except for not telling me about it last night, and I understand that you didn’t want to ruin my evening.”
“I should have known better. It’s never a good idea to try and save someone from bad news.”
“Not when that person will hear about it eventually anyway.”
“Right.” Skye jerked her thumb at the closed door of Wally’s office. “I take it the whole force has heard about Dante’s plans?”
“Oh, yeah.” Wally made a face. “They all got phone calls.”
“And?” Skye asked.
“And I assured them no one will be losing their job.” Wally grinned. “Between the protestors and your mother, the mayor doesn’t stand a chance in hell of passing his proposal at the meeting tonight.”
“I sure hope not.” Skye bit her lip, still not convinced everything would be okay. “You know Uncle Dante can be pretty tricky.”
“I just got off the phone with Charlie and he said there isn’t one city council member who is voting with Dante on this matter.”
“Phew. I guess we don’t need the special edition of the Star after all. But since it is breaking news, Kathy will probably go ahead with the story anyway.” Skye exhaled loudly. “I’m glad the incinerator versus the police force issue is settled, but there’s still the fact that Dante might have murdered Yvonne to keep her quiet about the whole thing.”
“That is definitely the next problem we need to tackle.” Wally kissed Skye. “So, who should we talk to first, the vic’s ex or the mayor?”
“Dante,” Skye answered immediately. “I really don’t think I can concentrate on Neil Osborn until we hear what my uncle has to say. The light in his office is on. Shall we beard the lion in his den right now?”
“Give me a second.” Wally stuck his head into his office, shouted until he got his officers’ attention, and ordered them all back to work. Then he put his hand on Skye’s waist and said, “Shall we?”
When Wally knocked on the mayor’s door, Dante yelled, “Go away!”
“It’s Chief Boyd,” Wally called through the wood. “I need to speak to you.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Dante’s voice vibrated with outrage.
“He must be pouting because his scheme’s been exposed,” Skye said under her breath.
Wally shrugged at Skye, then announced, “Official business. Let me in.”
“Leave me alone!” Dante screeched. “You’re all out to get me.”
Wally grabbed the knob, and Skye was surprised when it turned. She’d half expected her uncle to have locked himself in. Motioning for Skye to stay behind him, Wally entered the mayor’s office.
“Get out!” Dante squawked like the penguin he resembled. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
“Calm down, Mr. Mayor.” Although Wally’s tone was relaxed, his shoulders were tense. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”
Dante shoved his chair back so hard, it hit the wall behind him, causing his skull to ricochet off the headrest. Blinking rapidly, he leaped to his feet, shaking his fist and screaming like a two-year-old having a tantrum. “Haven’t the pair of you caused enough trouble?”
Skye stepped around Wally and confronted her uncle. “We’re not the ones who tried to pull a fast one on the whole town. That would be you.”
“You ungrateful little witch.” Dante advanced on Skye. “You and your mother have never appreciated what I’ve sacrificed for our family.”
“We’re perfectly aware
of what you’ve done.” Skye put her hands on her hips. “Like stealing funds from Grandma Leofanti’s trust and trying to grab control of her estate when she passed away.”
“I never . . . That money was used for farm equipment. . . . May and Minnie understood . . .” Dante sputtered to a stop and stared into space.
Wally whispered to Skye, “Did he just have a thought, or did his brain overheat?”
Before Skye could answer, Dante clutched his chest. “I . . . I . . .” The blood drained from his face, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he toppled to the floor as if someone had yelled Timber!
CHAPTER 21
Easier Read Than Done
From the doorway, Skye watched as two paramedics shifted her uncle onto a gurney, fastened straps around his torso, and slid the side rail into position. One paramedic grabbed the foot of the stretcher and the other picked up the head, lifting in unison until the legs extended.
As the mayor was rolled feetfirst over the threshold, Skye asked, “Is he going to be okay?” A big ball of guilt had settled in her stomach. Had she really just given her uncle a coronary?
“He seems fine,” the female paramedic answered. “His heartbeat is regular, his pulse is good, and his blood pressure is high average.”
“But you’re taking him to the hospital.” Skye followed the gurney down the stairs. “If he’s all right, why are you transporting him?”
“Mayor Leofanti says he still feels light-headed,” the male paramedic explained. “And we can’t rule out a transient ischemic attack.”
“That’s a mini stroke, right?” Skye asked, a new wave of worry washing over her. “What are the signs for one of those TIA thingies?”
“Being unable to move or feel on one side of the body, speech and vision disturbances, confusion, difficulty speaking, and the inability to follow commands,” the woman answered.
“Dizziness, loss of balance and coordination, and trouble walking,” her partner added.
The paramedics started toward the rear exit, but Dante pulled down the oxygen mask that he’d insisted on having and ordered, “Go out the front.” When they hesitated, he lifted his head, narrowed his beady black eyes, and barked, “Move it, you morons!”
Wally had been calling Dante’s wife, Olive, and May, but as he joined Skye in the city hall’s lobby, he murmured in her ear, “He wants the protestors to see him and feel sorry for him. He’s going for the sympathy vote, which is probably the only way he’d be reelected at this point.”
“Ah.” Skye’s shoulders relaxed. “How did Mom take the news of Uncle Dante’s collapse?”
“I would say she’s concerned, but calm,” Wally reported. “May’s picking up Olive and driving her to the hospital in Laurel.”
“Trust Mom to be there for her brother even though he just tried to pull a fast one that would have put her out of work and forced us to leave town.” Skye’s voice held a touch of admiration. “Of course, if it turns out Dante killed Yvonne, Mom might reconsider. Even she won’t be able to forgive murder.”
“I don’t think May has to worry about that.” Wally’s expression was a cross between relieved and disgusted. “Olive told me that she and Dante were at the mall in Kankakee shopping between four and five thirty, then drove straight to your folks’ place for the family Christmas Eve party. Do you recall when they got there?”
“They were already at the house when I walked in at six.” Skye paused, searching her memory about that night. “Their Cadillac was right by the garage, with three or four cars parked behind it, so they had to have been among the first to arrive. And it’s a good half hour to drive from Kankakee to Scumble River.”
“Olive said that Dante caused a scene at Bath & Body Works because someone cut in front of them in line, so the people who work there will probably remember them.” Wally rubbed the back of his neck. “She still has her receipt, and she says the time stamp should be around five thirty. I sent Martinez to Kankakee to talk to the clerks and check the store’s security tapes.”
“Which leaves us with Neil Osborn. The only one of our suspects with a motive and no supportable alibi.”
“Yep.” Wally took Skye’s arm and steered her toward the garage. “We need to head to his development site right now. It’ll take us at least an hour to get there.”
“Okay.” Skye quickened her pace to keep up with Wally’s long strides. “Did you read that file Judy Martin dropped off with the dispatcher this morning?”
“Uh-huh.” Wally opened the squad car door. “It listed King Housley’s fake injury, Earl Doozier’s improper control of his dog, and Dante’s transgressions, as well as a few library infractions—cutting pages from books, going to forbidden Web sites, et cetera.”
“So, nothing new, huh?” Skye asked as she slid into the Caprice.
“Not a darn thing.” Wally pulled the Chevy into the street, waving at the protestors who were shouting words of encouragement and brandishing their signs in support of the police department.
Skye and Wally discussed wedding details for most of the drive—what time he’d pick her up for the rehearsal that night, when she wanted him at the church the next day, and if he should stop by Vince’s for a haircut. Then, just as they were turning off the highway, “Mama Told Me Not to Come” sounded from Skye’s tote bag.
She dug out her cell, flipped it open, and said, “Hi, Mom. How’s Uncle Dante?” She turned on the speaker so Wally could hear the conversation.
“He’s fine.” May sounded annoyed. “I think he faked the whole thing.”
“Oh?” Skye was more than half convinced her mother was right.
“The ER doctor said that for an overweight, older man with a type A personality, Dante is in remarkable shape.” May tsked. “Even as a boy, he’d pretend to be sick if Mama or Daddy caught him being bad.”
“Still, it’s a relief he didn’t have a stroke.” Skye saw a sign that read THE GREENS OF LAWNTON, AN ENVIRONMENTALLY FRIENDLY ESTATE COMMUNITY and said quickly, “Thanks for letting me know Dante’s all right, but I’ve got to go. Wally and I are about to talk to a suspect. See you tonight at the rehearsal.”
“Glad your uncle is okay.” Wally patted Skye’s knee, then gestured to the huge stone columns at the entrance. “This place looks pretty ritzy.”
“Yes, it does.” Skye gazed at the spectacular custom homes situated on one-acre lots. “I thought Tom Riley said that Neil’s original plan was to build ecofriendly housing for middle-income families.”
“But he also said that Osborn had been corrupted by the money and being environmentally responsible turned into a scam for him.” Wally stopped the Chevy in front of a construction trailer with a sign that read OSBORN & GASKIN BUILDERS. “I wonder what he meant by that.”
“My guess is that Neil no longer believes in the cause, but he’s making money off of his customers’ desire to live green.”
“Maybe.” Wally walked around to Skye’s side, and when he opened her door, he added, “But it could be something shadier.”
“True.” Skye noticed that they were parked next to the same Honda Civic that Hank Gaskin had been driving the day they saw him at Neil Osborn’s house. She touched Wally’s arm and said, “Did Neil’s partner strike you as the type of man who would drive an economy car?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” Wally shrugged. “Maybe it’s his work vehicle.”
“But—”
“Look over there,” Wally interrupted, pointing to his left. “This property is located between a golf course and a forest preserve.”
“A perfect way to ensure that nothing will be built next to the subdivision.”
“So Osborn can boast that his homes are adjacent to boating, fishing, and hiking and biking trails.” Wally whistled. “Plus, I noticed a commuter train station nearby.”
“These houses have to be going for more than a million each.” Skye looked around, then revised her estimate. “Maybe a million and a half.”
As they were chatting, t
he door to the trailer swung open and Hank Gaskin stepped out onto the metal stairs. He wore expensively tailored slacks and a cashmere sweater, and a Rolex glinted on his wrist.
Hank smiled and said, “Come on in.” Waving at them, he continued. “What kind of house are you interested in? We have several plans available that you can customize, or we can work from your architect’s diagrams. Whichever way makes you feel most at home.”
Skye slid a glance at Wally. Considering he was in uniform and they had arrived in a squad car, did Hank really think they were potential buyers? How much did the cops in Lawnton make?
Wally winked at her, then said, “I’m Chief Boyd from the Scumble River Police Department, and this is our psychological consultant, Ms. Denison. We’re here to talk to Neil Osborn. Is he inside?”
“No.” Hank jerked his thumb to the right. “He’s at the playground we’re putting in. I handle the land acquisition and sales end of things and Neil’s the construction guy.”
“Okay.” Wally nodded his thanks, then commented, “I guess it’s a good thing the winter’s been so mild. I’m a little surprised you’re still able to work this late in the year.”
“We’ve been lucky. The ground’s not even frozen yet.” Hank shuffled from foot to foot, then said over his shoulder as he scooted back inside, “Neil’s over that way. Just follow the path through those trees.”
“Got it.” Wally took Skye’s arm and said in a low voice, “I wonder why Gaskin was so anxious to get rid of us.” He chuckled and guided her over a root. “I guess because he figured out we weren’t buyers.”
“A lot of people are nervous around police officers or psychologists. Or both.”
Skye and Wally emerged onto a large expanse of lush green grass. In the center, Neil Osborn was directing a group of workers who were assembling a huge complex of slides, swings, climbing nets, and a gigantic artificial oak tree with two decks built into its fake branches.
Murder of a Stacked Librarian: A Scumble River Mystery Page 19