Murder of a Small-Town Honey

by Denise Swanson

  Roy Quirk asked, “Can you be more specific?”

  “I talked to a couple of girls she used to be friendly with last year. They seemed genuinely afraid of her—and it takes a lot to scare a teenager.”

  “Did they say why?” Chief Boyd looked up from the file he had been sifting through.

  “This boyfriend you’re investigating tried to break up with her last year. Phoebe was furious and vowed to get him back. She found out who his new girlfriend was, waited until they were out on a date, and trashed the girl’s car.”

  “Why didn’t she report it to the police?” demanded Roy.

  “Was there any proof Phoebe did it?” asked the chief.

  “It wasn’t reported to the police because the girl was terrified. She refused to have anything more to do with Phoebe’s ex-boyfriend. As to proof, yes, I’d say they had proof.”

  “You sound pretty sure. What kind of evidence did they have?” The Chief made a note in the file.

  “Phoebe didn’t give the boyfriend back his school jacket when he broke up with her. When they found the car, there was a dummy behind the wheel, wearing what was left of the jacket. It was stabbed through the chest with a butcher knife.”

  Both men looked at each other. Roy got up, excused himself, and left the office.

  “Why do I think you guys are really after Phoebe and not the boyfriend?” Skye asked, trying to get comfortable on the hard chair.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “You’re right, I don’t want to, but if the other kids are in danger I need to.”

  Chief Boyd moved from behind his desk to the chair next to Skye. He took her hand. “Do you trust me, Skye?”

  She was having trouble keeping her breathing even. His tone had changed from official to intimate. “Yes, I . . . I guess so.” Part of her wanted to jerk her fingers away, but another part of her remembered that summer when she was fifteen.

  He seemed to sense her agitation. Letting her hand go, he moved away. “We’ll make sure Phoebe doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  She would have liked to know what was going on with Phoebe Unger, but decided to let that matter drop and see what she could find out about Vince.

  “Chief?”

  “Do you think you could call me Wally? You make me feel a hundred years old calling me Chief Boyd all the time. I’m only eight years older than you, and those eight years seem a lot shorter now that you’re not fifteen anymore.”

  This was definitely not what Skye expected. She didn’t know how to react. In her confusion she wasn’t sure if he was flirting or just being friendly. The feelings she’d once had for him were resurfacing, but he was married, and she wasn’t about to forget that.

  “No, I’m far from fifteen. It seems like lots of things have changed since I’ve been gone. How’s the murder investigation going?”

  “I really can’t talk about that.”

  “Oh, I know you can’t go into detail, but it must have been quite a surprise when Mrs. Gumtree’s agent identified her as Honey Adair.” When the chief didn’t answer, Skye went on, “Or did you already have an inkling as to her real identity?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Mom says there was a lot of secret activity going on here night before last.” Skye watched him carefully. “And I find it hard to believe that no one recognized her. After all, she lived here for almost a year.”

  Wally said, “That was over sixteen years ago. And you have to remember she didn’t want to be recognized, so she stayed away from people. She only appeared outside of her trailer for storytelling on Saturday. The only ones who saw her close up were children.”

  “Still, the whole thing is very convenient for someone. You don’t seriously suspect Vince, do you?” Skye’s eyes never left his face.

  “They were his scissors.”

  “Half the town gets their hair cut at his salon. Anyone could have stolen them.”

  “True, but how many people dated Honey Adair in high school?” Chief Boyd went around his desk and sat down. The barriers were back in place.

  “Half the town, or so I’ve heard.”

  “But Vince was the last one before she disappeared. Why did she leave so mysteriously?”

  “What did Charlie Patukas say about her leaving?” Skye put both hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward.

  “This whole thing has been quite a surprise for him. He hadn’t heard from or seen Honey since she left town. I thought the guy was going to have a stroke when I told him who Mrs. Gumtree really was. And then to find out she had left him all her money—the poor old man is still in shock.”

  Skye worded her next question carefully, not wanting to arouse his suspicions. “Did Honey leave anything else to him?”

  Chief Boyd looked puzzled. “Like what?”

  “You know, property, things like that.” Skye glanced at the top papers on his pile, but found nothing interesting.

  “She owned a condo in Chicago, but besides that and her personal possessions, her estate is mainly cash and, of course, her life insurance policy.”

  “How much do you figure the total inheritance will come to?” Skye picked up a pencil from the desktop and twirled it between her palms.

  He flipped open a file. “Because she was a TV star, she had an unusually large life insurance policy. It’s worth a million dollars by itself. Add the condo and the cash and I’d say we’re talking in the neighborhood of one point five million dollars.”

  “That’s a pretty nice neighborhood for Charlie to move into,” Skye said thoughtfully. “Of course, a move into such a nice neighborhood usually comes with a pretty high price tag.”

  In this case the price had been a young woman’s life.

  CHAPTER 11

  Somewhere in the Night

  That afternoon when Skye got home from the police station, her mother’s car was in the driveway and she was washing the front windows of the house. With the temperature continuing to hover in the nineties, May’s face was an alarming shade of red, and sweat was dripping from the tip of her nose.

  Skye turned her key in the locked door and entered the centrally air-conditioned cottage. She held the door open and looked questioningly at her mother. May gave the window one more swipe, picked up her bottle of Windex, and went inside.

  Skye headed for her bedroom. “So, Mom, is the president of the United States coming to visit, or did you just have an uncontrollable urge to give yourself heatstroke?”

  May didn’t respond to Skye’s sarcasm. Instead she stood in the doorway to Skye’s bedroom and watched her change into blue chambray shorts and a plain white T-shirt. Slipping on a pair of white sandals, Skye walked past her mother into the great room and sat down in a camp chair.

  “You really need to get some more furniture. Where would your dad sit if he was here?” May looked at the other camp chair with distaste.

  Skye was not about to be distracted. “So, you came to furnish my house as well as to clean it. Fine. Don’t forget to scrub the grout around the tub, and I’d like a Queen Anne-style desk set.”

  Rubbing the wooden arm of the chair with her rag, May paused before sitting. “Vince needs your help.”

  “Oh.” Skye recognized a trap when she heard one. “Has he said he wants it, or is this all your idea? I got him a good lawyer, and I know he’s not back in jail. I was just at the police station.”

  May looked up sharply. “What were you doing there?”

  “Officer Quirk needed some information on one of the high school students, so I stopped after work to give it to him. Why shouldn’t I be there?”

  “You were always sweet on Wally, but he’s out to put your brother in jail.”

  “He didn’t seem to be on a vendetta when I spoke to him a few minutes ago. I’m sure they’re looking into other suspects too, like people she knew in Chicago.”

  “Aha, you just talked to him. I thought you said you went to talk to Roy Quirk.” May stood up and attacked the inside wind
ows.

  Skye handed her mother the bottle of Windex. “I did go to talk to Officer Quirk, but he was with the chief, and so I talked to them both.”

  “When I was dispatching last night I looked through the Honey Adair file, and Vince is their only suspect. They aren’t looking at anyone else.”

  “How did you get a chance to see that file? Don’t they keep stuff like that locked up?”

  May smiled. “I’ve changed a lot since I’ve been working at the P.D. The locks on the file cabinets are a piece of cake.”

  “Then what do you need me for?” Skye asked, unnerved to discover her mother had a dark, criminal side.

  “You need to find out who really killed her. People talk to you. At least they should after what we paid to send you to college.”

  Skye narrowed her eyes as she studied her mother. “Have you been watching Murder, She Wrote again? In real life the police solve crimes, amateurs don’t.”

  “The police think they’ve already solved the case. They’re too busy gathering evidence against Vince to look at anyone else. We can’t afford a private detective, even if I knew where to find one. As a psychologist, you know how to make people talk and you can tell if they’re lying. Plus, I can help by getting police information. I know how to use the computer at work to find out lots of stuff.” May moved over to the wall mirror and began wiping vigorously.

  Skye considered what her mother had said. I’m amazed the way people assume that because I have a degree in psychology, I also have magical powers. Would I be back in Scumble River if I were that good? She closed her eyes and sighed. On the other hand, Mom has a point. If the police aren’t looking for anyone else and Vince remains their prime suspect, something has to be done. Why do I have this sinking feeling that I’m about to get into trouble again?

  “Okay, Mom, I’ll see what I can do. I’m not sure where to start, though.”

  “You’ll have to find out about Honey. Try to discover where she’s been all these years and why someone would want her dead.” May’s eyes searched the room for something else to clean.

  “Any idea where I should begin that little task?”

  Apparently sarcasm was wasted on May. “At the beginning. Go talk to Charlie. He knows more than he’s saying.”

  The only light on at the Up A Lazy River Motor Court was in Charlie’s cabin. Even the parking lot lay in darkness. Skye glanced at her watch. It was a little past eight, not too late for a visit. Waiting on the step after ringing the doorbell, she remembered how, when she was growing up, doors weren’t locked in Scumble River and friends just walked in unannounced.

  What was taking Charlie so long? The cabin was tiny, having only a bedroom, kitchenette, living room, and bath. She was beginning to get a bad feeling when a car turned into the parking lot, its lights momentarily blinding her.

  With a sensation of relief, she saw Charlie get out of the car and heard him say, “Thanks for the ride, Eldon. See you tomorrow.”

  When Charlie spotted Skye standing on the step, he hurried toward her. “Skye, honey, what are you doing waiting out here like a door-to-door salesman? Don’t you remember where I keep the key? You should’ve let yourself in.”

  “That’s okay. I just got here. When I saw the light, I thought you were home.”

  Charlie frowned. “I don’t remember leaving a light on, but of course my memory’s not what it used to be, and after these past few days . . .”

  “Uncle Charlie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea about Honey.”

  Shrugging, Charlie unlocked the door and stood aside to let Skye enter first. She let out a gasp and stopped dead in her tracks. Charlie pushed in behind her and halted too. The cabin had been ransacked. All the cushions had been sliced open and stuffing was spilling out; the chairs were upended, their bottoms also slashed. Pictures were torn off the walls, their glass smashed and the photographs shredded into confetti. The carpet had been ripped up at the corners and dragged to the middle of the room.

  Silently they moved to the kitchen. There the cupboard doors stood agape, dishes and glasses shattered on the floor, and food smeared on the counter. A window over the sink was open, and jelly footprints indicated that this was the way the person had entered and exited the cabin.

  They found the bedroom and bath in similar shape. Charlie appeared to be in shock, all of his seventy years evident in his face. He sank down on the bed and buried his head in his hands.

  Even as Skye dialed the police, she knew she shouldn’t have touched the telephone. But no fingerprints had been found in Mrs. Gumtree’s trailer, according to her mother’s report, and she certainly wasn’t leaving Charlie there alone while she located another phone.

  Chief Boyd and Officer Quirk arrived with sirens blaring and lights flashing. Skye and Charlie were hustled out of the cabin. They climbed into Skye’s car. Charlie sat with his head leaning against the back of the seat. Skye battled her conscience. One part of her wanted to leave Charlie alone, while another part of her said this was the perfect time to get information.

  The practical side won. “Mom’s really worried about Vince being arrested for Honey’s murder.”

  Without opening his eyes, Charlie said, “So am I. Honey always did manage to stir things up. I guess now she’s doing it from the grave.”

  “I know this isn’t the time, but would you mind telling me about Honey? I only remember her a little.”

  Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, Charlie straightened. “It isn’t all that strange that you hardly remember her. To begin with, Honey was completely selfish and had no interest in other females. At fourteen you probably didn’t even exist to her. Also, your parents and I agreed that she wasn’t someone we’d have wanted you to have as a role model. You may have run into her only once or twice.”

  “But if Vince dated her, wouldn’t I have seen her more often?”

  “Vince kept his relationship with Honey pretty quiet. Your parents and I didn’t find out about it until the end.”

  Turning toward Charlie, Skye sat with one knee tucked under her, and her arm along the back of the seat. “How did she end up in Scumble River?”

  “Honey’s mother was my younger sister. There were only the two of us left from my family, so when she and her husband were killed in an auto accident there was nowhere else for Honey to go. Her father had no family at all.”

  “Is it true she was uncontrollable? Was that a reaction to her parents’ deaths?”

  Charlie shook his head. “No, as a matter of fact, her parents were looking into a military-type boarding school for Honey the day they were killed.”

  “Do you remember the details of their accident?”

  “Their brakes failed, and they were hit by a tractor-trailer truck.”

  Skye whistled. “How awful. I’m sure that losing her parents in such a dreadful way contributed to her problems here.”

  “Maybe, but Honey wouldn’t talk to the therapist I took her to, and her behavior when she lived with me sounded just like her mother had described it.”

  “People have said she was . . . ah, sexually active. Do you know the names of her partners?” Skye couldn’t meet his eyes.

  Charlie’s face turned red. “No. Back then things like that were kept more quiet.” Charlie hesitated. “Honey did spend a lot of time with Mike Young. I suspected she was getting drugs from him.”

  “Interesting. Can you think of anyone else she spent time with?”

  “No, when she first got here she behaved pretty good for the first couple of months. She got on the softball team and spent a lot of time at practices and games, which kept her out of trouble. Then, about Thanksgiving, she hooked up with Mike, and after that she seemed to run through a bunch of boys, one after the other. She started with Vince around Valentine’s Day, and her behavior improved again.”

  “Did Honey tell you she was leaving?” Noticing the sweat on Charlie’s brow, Skye leaned across him and opened the window.

  “No. I came home after the graduatio
n ceremony, and all her things were gone. She took my car and all the petty cash, about two hundred dollars.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  He looked away. “No. I was glad she was gone. It seemed a cheap price to pay, two hundred bucks and an old clunker, to get my peaceful life back.”

  Skye patted him on the arm. “You just tell me to mind my own business if I’m getting too personal here or there’s something you don’t want to answer.” She waited, but when Charlie didn’t say anything she went on. “Where did Honey go to school before she moved here?”

  “Bogart? No, Bogan High School on the south side of Chicago.”

  “What do you know about her more recent life?”

  Charlie kneaded the fingers of one hand with the other. “Only what her agent told me when she called. Honey owned a condo on the Gold Coast in the Raven Building. She spent most of her time either taping her TV show or out on the road promoting it. The agent said Honey didn’t seem to have any friends and work was her life.”

  “That’s pretty sad. Will her agent be coming down for the funeral?”

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to call her once the arrangements are made. She said Honey’s producer and publicist will be coming too.”

  Having covered everything but the inheritance, Skye found her resolve faltering. She decided to take the plunge before Chief Boyd or Officer Quirk came to talk to them and ruined the moment. Charlie might not be so forthcoming tomorrow when the shock wore off.

  “Chief Boyd mentioned that you were Honey’s beneficiary. Were you surprised?”

  Charlie gripped Skye’s knee so hard that it frightened her. “You have to believe me, I hadn’t seen or talked to Honey since the day she left here. I can’t imagine why she left me her money. My gut feeling says that that money is going to bring me nothing but pain and heartache.”

  CHAPTER 12

  A Taste of Honey