“Mom?” Skye called.
Silence except for the ringing phone.
She tried again. “Is anyone here? Should I answer the phone?”
Afraid it was Loretta trying to reach her, Skye picked up the receiver. “Scumble River Police Department. May I help you?”
“May, is that you?” Mayor Clapp’s distinguishing whine came through the handset.
“No, sir, it’s her daughter. May’s not feeling well at the moment,” Skye said. I’m sure Mom really is sick. I know I feel like throwing up.
“Uh, well, uh, you tell whoever’s on duty that dog is back in my yard raising a ruckus. I want them to drop what they’re doing and get over here right now. Do you hear me, girl?”
“Certainly, sir. I’ll relay your message. Have a good night.”
Walking into the hall and to the bottom of a flight of stairs, Skye yelled as loud as she could, “Mom, Dad, where are you?”
Chief Boyd came hurrying down the stairs. “Boy, I’m glad to see you, Skye.”
She interrupted him. “Why have you arrested my brother?”
“He’s not under arrest. We just brought him in for questioning.”
“At this time of night? What’s he got to do with Mrs. Gumtree’s murder?”
He moved closer. “Look, I can’t discuss this with you. Could you just come up here and convince May that she doesn’t have to sit with Vince? Really, I’m not trying to railroad him. I just want to ask him some questions. The rest of the men have gone home.”
“Sorry, Chief, I was the one who told her to do what she’s doing. His attorney should be here soon, and she’ll straighten things out.”
“Well, at least tell your dad he doesn’t have to wait. He keeps dozing off. I’m afraid he’s going to fall off his chair. ”
“Fine, I’ll get Dad to go home. Don’t you try anything funny with Vince.” As she climbed the stairs, Skye added over her shoulder, “By the way, Mayor Clapp called to request your services. It seems there’s some dog that’s keeping him from getting his beauty sleep, and he’d like your assistance in removing it, ASAP.”
Sitting at the dispatcher’s station, Skye waited for Loretta to arrive. The chair was armless and covered in shiny green vinyl. She thought it served more to keep the dispatchers alert during the long stretches of time when nothing was happening than to make them comfortable.
Although she’d persuaded her father to go home and rest, she decided that May was the best protection Vince could have, next to a lawyer. Skye had been waiting there for over an hour, and now she expected the attorney at any minute. In the meantime, she had been instructed by May to answer the phone. So far, that wasn’t a problem. It hadn’t rung.
Chief Boyd had called one of his men at home and ordered him to take care of the mayor’s dog problem. He’d been less successful in finding a substitute for May.
The Scumble River Police, Fire, and Emergency Departments shared a common dispatcher. Four middle-aged women each worked thirty-two hours a week, rotating between the afternoon and midnight shifts. One woman worked straight days during the week. They covered the phones and radios, as well as doing paperwork for the officers. None was willing to climb out of bed at midnight and come down to the station, although all wanted to know what was wrong with May.
Despite the uncomfortable chair, Skye was starting to doze off when the buzzer on the police station door sounded and Loretta Steiner marched in. Six feet tall and well muscled, she was even more impressive than Skye remembered. Everything about her was genuine, from her coal-black hair to her dark-brown skin.
Loretta didn’t bother with preliminaries. “Where’s my client?”
Matching the lawyer’s demeanor, Skye opened the door between them and motioned Loretta through. “He’s in the interrogation room at the top of the stairs. My mother and the chief of police are with him.”
“What’s your mother doing there?”
“Seeing that the chief doesn’t question him. She was the best protection I could think of until you got here.” Skye led her toward the stairs.
“Where’s everyone else?” Loretta looked around the empty room.
“This is a small town. There’s not much personnel available at any one time. My mom’s the dispatcher on this shift, and Chief Boyd couldn’t get anyone else to come in, so I’m answering phones. By the way, when you get up there, tell my mom to come down and take over.”
Striding past Skye and up the stairs, Loretta muttered about small towns and not liking to leave Chicago. Halfway up the stairs she turned and called down, “Skye, they ever see a black woman lawyer here before?”
Skye smiled for the first time since her mother’s phone call. “No. There are no blacks in town, and there sure aren’t any women lawyers.”
Loretta whooped. “Well, we’re going to have us a good time tonight.”
CHAPTER 9
Maybe Baby
Six o’clock Tuesday morning came too early for Skye. She had never enjoyed rising at the crack of dawn, and having had less than four hours of sleep did not improve her disposition. Her first thought when the alarm went off was to wonder if she could get away with calling in sick. After a brief consideration, she decided that doing so might be frowned upon after having worked only six days.
At almost the same moment, the idea that maybe she’d better save her personal and emergency days for Vince’s trial popped into her head. She firmly shoved that thought back down into her subconscious, refusing to even contemplate Vince’s being treated as a criminal.
Sitting on the side of her bed with her head in her hands, Skye tried to gather the energy required to take the next step and get into the shower.
Abruptly the hypnotizing music coming over her clock radio was interrupted by the WCCQ weather announcer’s voice. “Well, folks, you’d better sit yourself down in a big tub of ice, because we’re going to break all records for heat and humidity set on this day in history.”
Groaning, she began to search her mind for something to wear. Some of the rooms at school were air-conditioned and some were not. It depended on when that particular addition had been added and how much money had been in the budget at the time.
Following a quick shower and a cup of Earl Grey tea, she dressed in a short-sleeved empire-waist cotton-knit dress. Remembering the problem she’d had keeping up with Lloyd Stark on Thursday, Skye chose to wear white flats instead of the heels that matched the dress. She hoped the Midwest fashion police would forgive her lapse. She was undecided about panty hose, so she stuffed a pair in her white canvas tote, just in case there was some school rule about bare legs. But since her dress’s hemline reached almost to her ankles, she hoped no one would even notice. At the last instant she wove her hair into a French braid to keep it out of her face.
It was tough knowing what to wear on any given day. In the morning she might be sitting on the floor with the kindergartners, and the afternoon could find her at a meeting with the superintendent. Her wardrobe had to be more versatile than a one-man band playing Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.
The drive to Scumble River Junior High took less than five minutes, allowing Skye to be in her makeshift office by seven-thirty. With her first Pupil Personnel Services meeting not until eleven-thirty, she would have plenty of time to prepare a list for the PPS team of students who needed reevaluations or counseling.
She worked steadily until her door burst open and Ursula Nelson, the school secretary, flew in. “Come on. Mr. Stark wants to see you.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” She started to put the folders she was working on back together.
Ursula’s beetle-brown eyes bored into Skye. “Mr. Stark does not like to be kept waiting.”
“I’ll come to the office as soon as I’ve secured these files.”
Ursula turned without another word and rushed out of the room.
Skye inserted the loose papers back into the various records and placed them in the file cabinet. She then conscientiousl
y pushed in the metal bolt and made sure the drawer was locked. Smoothing her hair and dress, she grabbed paper and a pen and set off for the principal’s office.
Lloyd was pacing in front of the doorway when she arrived. Without saying a word, he hurried inside, apparently expecting her to follow. Once they were both past the threshold, he shut the door. “We have a problem.”
“Yes?”
“One of our students, Travis Idell, an eighth grader, spent the summer having parties while both his parents were at work.”
So far Skye was unimpressed. “Yes?”
“They were pretty wild parties.” Lloyd seemed to think Skye should understand without him having to go into detail.
“And this is our problem in what way . . .”
“The other kids were all from this school or the elementary.” Lloyd clarified, “They were mostly eleven and twelve, but some were only ten.”
Skye was starting to have a bad feeling about where this was leading. “What did they do at these parties, get drunk?”
“I wish it were as simple as that. They did disgusting things.”
“Like what?”
Lloyd turned red and muttered, “They played games, sex games.”
She took a few steps and sat. Lloyd must have thought this was a good idea because he sank into the adjoining chair.
“This is terrible, of course, and I’m sure many of those kids will need to see a counselor, but I’m still not clear on how this relates to school.” Skye crossed her legs. “You’re aware that the school is required to provide counseling services only if the emotional problem directly impacts a child’s ability to learn?”
He sighed. “Yes, I know, and so far it hasn’t impaired their learning, if we strictly interpret the law. On the other hand, word has gotten out about this, and since school has started, Travis has been beaten up every day by angry brothers and cousins of the girls involved.”
“Let me see if I have a correct picture of what’s been occurring.” Skye jotted a few notes on her pad. “Travis’s parents no doubt are denying that anything took place this summer, while demanding we do something to protect their poor innocent baby boy. Right?”
Lloyd nodded.
“Calls are coming in from the other parents wanting to know why we haven’t expelled this demon from hell.” Skye looked at Lloyd for confirmation.
He nodded once again.
“So—we need to think of something that will satisfy both sides.”
“Precisely. What do you suggest?”
“Has DCFS been called? We have to report any suspicion of abuse or neglect, and it sounds as if Travis may have abused the other children or the Idells may be guilty of neglect by not having provided adequate supervision for Travis. Although, I must admit, I’ve never quite understood what criteria the Department of Children and Family Services uses. Regardless, we are mandated to report.”
“The parents of one of the girls involved called DCFS a couple of days ago. Her mother got suspicious when the girl cried every time she was made to undress. Her parents finally got her to tell them what was wrong. That’s how this all got started. Once the DCFS started interviewing the various kids, everyone in town knew something was up. News around here spreads like a heat rash in summer.” Lloyd’s leg jiggled like a Slinky.
Skye considered their options until Lloyd’s fidgeting drove her to speak. “Okay, I have a recommendation, but it’s going to cost the school some money.”
Lloyd grimaced. “Let’s hear it.”
“We make arrangements to home-teach young Mr. Idell until either the excitement dies down or DCFS makes some kind of move.” Skye persisted before Lloyd could interrupt her. “By providing a home teacher we kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. We satisfy the Idells that we’re protecting Travis from the children who are beating him up, and we appease the other parents by removing him, temporarily, from his alleged victims.”
After a moment of thought, Lloyd got up. “This could work. How long do you think we’ll have to pay for a home teacher?”
“That depends on a lot of things. Such as what DCFS decides to do and on what time schedule. I don’t think I know the Idells. When did they move to Scumble River? Are they fairly affluent?”
“They relocated here about five or six years ago. I’d say they’re comfortable. Both parents work in Chicago. With the ninety-minute commute each way they’re hardly ever home. I think they do something with the stock exchange, and Travis is their only child.”
“One of two things could happen. They may eventually become convinced that Travis did the things he’s accused of and get him some professional help. Or they might remain in denial, decide the whole town is against them, and put Travis in a private school.” Skye underlined something she had written.
“So, how long do you think this will take?” Lloyd bounced from one foot to the other.
It was Skye’s turn to sigh. “This is only a guess, but I’d say a semester would be the longest these circumstances could last without something happening to change the situation.”
Abruptly Lloyd ushered her out the door. “Fine. I’ll check with the superintendent and get back to you if we need another option.”
Finding herself staring at the closed door, she noticed it was oak with a small black nameplate on it: LLOYD STARK, PRINCIPAL.
She thought, Principal what? Boor?
Skye wasn’t able to leave school until after five, having once again missed lunch. If this continued she’d have to find some sort of food she could eat during the five minutes it took to walk from one appointment to the next. The PPS meeting had lasted past three, and before she could get out of the room, the Idells had arrived. She’d spent two hours trying to work through the issues surrounding Travis’s behavior but made little progress.
During a brief break in the conference, she had stolen a few minutes and telephoned her mother to ask if Vince planned on closing the shop for the day. May told Skye that Vince had said he’d be at work the next morning, whether he still had customers or not.
Pulling into Great Expectations about five-fifteen, Skye found the parking lot empty.
Vince was sitting on a stool behind the counter drinking a Coke and reading the Chicago Tribune when Skye came through the door.
He got up and came around to hug her. “Sis, I didn’t kill her.”
“I know.” Skye fought the lump gathering in the back of her throat. “Let’s sit down.”
They settled once again in the plastic-covered chairs by the shampoo sinks and Skye asked gently, “Did most people show up for their appointments?”
“Yes. I was surprised, but there was just the normal number of no-shows.”
Skye crossed her legs. “Good. Maybe that means the town’s behind you. I suppose they all wanted to ask you questions, though.”
“Oh, yeah, but that’s pretty normal in this business. I told everyone I wasn’t allowed to discuss it.”
“That was a good idea.”
“I was thinking of changing our double date to Friday. Both Mike and Abby said that was okay. Can you make it then?” Trailing his fingers along the basin, Vince avoided looking Skye in the eye.
“Sure, but maybe we should wait until this is all over.”
“No. I want to go out. It will help take my mind off things.” Vince continued to appear fascinated with the sink’s enamel finish.
“When’s your next customer scheduled?”
“Not until six, and that’s the last appointment of the day,” Vince said, relief evident in his voice.
“Then we have time to talk. What did you think of Loretta?”
“She was amazing, but then so were you and Mom. How did you know what to do?”
“I’m not sure, but ever since all this happened I’ve been relying on my memories of old TV shows to tell me how to act. I know I watched a lot of television as a kid, but it must have made a greater impact than I ever realized. Every time I get into a jam lately I’ve done what I’ve
seen them do on TV. I think this latest one was Perry Mason.” Skye had had little time for television since she’d left Scumble River, so her points of reference were somewhat dated.
“You should’ve seen Mom,” Vince said. “Wally and a couple of his men showed up at my apartment around ten. The news was just coming on. They told me they had a search warrant and were bringing me in for questioning. It took them about forty-five minutes to tear my place apart, then they put me in the back of the squad car and took me to the station. Mom must have gotten to work just a little while before they brought me in, because she wasn’t even sitting down yet. She started crying right away, but that didn’t slow her down at all. She was on the phone to you before they even got me all the way upstairs.”
“Did they have time to ask you anything before Mom stopped you?” Skye posed the question she had been worried about since last night.
“No. Wally was still getting coffee when Mom pushed her way into the room and told me not to say anything.”
“If Mom was with you from the time I talked to her until Loretta appeared, how did Dad get there?”
“Mom used the phone in the interrogation room. Wally was so stunned by her actions I think she could have taken me home before he would have thought to object.” Vince grabbed a magazine from the stand and started pleating its pages.
“Why did they want to question you? What do you have to do with Mrs. Gumtree?”
“It’s a long story.” Vince looked embarrassed.
Skye looked at her watch. “Then you’d better get going.”
“Well, for starters, they found my styling shears in her neck.”
“How can they be sure they were yours?” Skye grabbed the magazine from his hands.
“They had the shop’s name engraved on them. But everybody in town gets their hair cut here. Anyone could have taken them without my noticing.”
“Wonderful.” Skye thought for a moment. “There must be something else.”
Murder of a Small-Town Honey Page 8