Come Homicide or High Water

by Denise Swanson

  As the girl stepped into the doorway, Skye said, “Bambi, you scared the heck out of me.”

  Bambi Doozier was Earl’s youngest child—at least as far as anyone knew. She was a sophomore, but extremely slender and petite, which made her seem a lot younger than her fifteen years. Unlike the rest of her kinfolk, Bambi was a good student and followed all the rules. She was a member of the high school’s service club, Get Involved, Value Everyone, and had even won GIVE’s first award.

  Bambi and her aunt Yolanda were the only two of the Doozier family, at least those whom Skye had met, who had ambitions beyond scamming Scumble River citizens. Both made it a point to speak Standard English instead of Doozierese, and both understood that doing well in school was their best chance to make something of their lives.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” Bambi twisted the end of her ponytail. “I was hoping you could help me with something so that I can get back to class in time for fifth period. Science is my worst subject and I need to be there from the beginning or I won’t be able to understand it.”

  “Are you sick?” Skye asked. If the girl needed to see Abby, Skye would have to abort her mission to gather a sample from Homer’s trash and go get the nurse.

  “Just…you know…” Bambi’s face blazed crimson. “That time of the month surprised me and I don’t have any…uh…with me.”

  “Oh.” Skye nodded. “That’s something I can definitely handle.” She moved into the nurse’s office and headed toward the cabinet that held Abby’s supplies. She opened the door and asked, “Tampon or pad or both?”

  “May I have a few of each?” Bambi whispered. “I’m out at home and it might be a couple days before Ma will go get some for me at the store. She’s really angry about Pa being gone and all, and I’m afraid to ask her.”

  “No problem.” As Skye took a plastic sack from the shelf, filled it, and handed the supplies to Bambi, she wondered where Earl was hiding out. “Here you go, sweetie. Let Ms. Fleming know if you want more. Do you need fresh undies right now?”

  Bambi nodded and Skye selected the smallest size available, gave the package to the girl, and said, “If you see your father, tell him to call me. Hiding is just making the situation worse.”

  “I sure will, ma’am.” Bambi bobbed her head.

  “Good. Now you clean up, then get back to class.” Skye smiled. “We wouldn’t want you getting a bad grade in science.”

  “Thank you, Ms. D.” Bambi waved as she disappeared into the bathroom.

  With Bambi taken care of, Skye left for Homer’s office. She made a mental note to give Abby a twenty to cover the cost of what Skye had given the girl. All the female staff contributed to Abby’s tampon, pad, and underwear fund since lots of girls ended up needing the supplies when their period caught them unawares.

  Easing into the principal’s office, Skye was thankful for the wall of windows behind his desk. They provided enough illumination that she didn’t have to turn on the overhead lights. The last thing she needed was Opal glancing down the hallway and seeing the fluorescents on.

  As usual, Homer’s garbage can was overflowing with snack food packages and soda cans. Along with plastic gloves, Wally had given her an evidence bag and she fished both from her tote bag. She shook the bag open, put on the gloves, and selected a peanut butter cup wrapper and the lid of a pudding cup. She figured Homer was likely to have licked both of those.

  After tucking those items safely inside the evidence bag, she removed the gloves and returned everything to her purse. Before she left, she scanned the room and noticed a crumpled ball of paper near the trash can.

  Scooping it up, she hurried back to the PPS meeting. As she walked, she smoothed out the sheet and saw that it was the top page from Jerita’s lawsuit. Slashed across it in red Sharpie, Homer had written You lose, bitch!

  Chapter 13

  She’s Leaving Home

  Wally sat in the mayor’s office waiting for Dante to get off the telephone and reveal his newest “amazing” idea. The current police contract with the village of Scumble River was ending on December 31 and the two parties were nowhere near an agreement. Although Hizzoner claimed to have come up with the solution to all their problems, Wally was skeptical.

  Still, he was willing to listen to the man’s proposal. That is, if the guy ever hung up the phone and talked to him.

  Among the most contested items were compensation, the need for additional officers, and the length of time the contract would cover. The last agreement had been for six years and Wally, as the bargaining representative for his department, wanted to shorten that span to three. In a pinch, he’d settle for four, but not a day longer.

  Tuning in to Dante’s conversation, Wally heard the mayor say, “No. I told you we need those two parcels.” He paused, then snapped, “For parking, you idiot! Basin Street is going to lose a quarter of its spots once the reconstruction starts. We can put meters in the lots and recoup our investment in no time.”

  Hmm! While Wally knew about the proposed Basin Street reconstruction project, this was the first he’d heard about buying land for parking lots. Any decent-sized footage along Scumble River’s main drag would cost well over seventy-five thousand, which meant the village board would have to spend at the very least a hundred and fifty K. Maybe that was the reason that the trustees were nickel-and-diming the police department’s contract negotiations.

  It was odd that there was no scuttlebutt about such a major purchase. The board members must have taken a vow of silence and been plotting this in their closed-door session. Otherwise, May would have said something to Wally. His mother-in-law kept her ear to the grapevine, and she hadn’t even mentioned hearing a hint of the board’s plans to him.

  As Wally squirmed trying to get comfortable on one of the pair of too-small chairs facing the mayor’s enormous oak desk, he looked around. Something was different since his last visit to Hizzoner’s lair.

  Ah! He mentally snapped his fingers. That was it. The Zen fountain that Dante had installed, hoping to lower his sky-high blood pressure, was gone. Noticing the mayor’s flushed face, Wally thought getting rid of the water feature had been a mistake. Because if anything, Hizzoner’s hypertension seemed worse than ever.

  Wally cleared his throat and Dante shot him an irritated look, then raised a finger indicating he’d be with him in a minute. Which, as Wally was distrustful of any promise made by the mayor, he seriously doubted.

  After another attempt to get comfortable, Wally reached for his phone to check on the vibration that he felt a few seconds ago. Usually, he’d wait until he was alone to look at his messages. He believed it was rude to constantly be glued to a cell phone in the presence of others.

  However, with Dante, Wally would make an exception. The mayor was the epitome of bad manners and needed a taste of his own medicine.

  Wally’s frown morphed into a smile when he saw a picture of Skye on the cell’s screen, indicating that the text was from her. He gazed at her beautiful face for a moment before he swiped to see the message.

  Skye had no idea that he had this particular photo, but he’d managed to snap it on their honeymoon. She was self-conscious about wearing the two-piece bathing suit he persuaded her to buy for the trip, but the sight of her luscious curves on display sent a jolt southward every time he looked at them.

  Getting texts from his wife warmed his heart. Her updates on Eva and CJ were the highlight of his day and the best part was that she always signed her messages with hearts and kisses.

  Wally glanced at Dante, but the mayor was still scowling at the telephone, so he thumbed his cell’s screen and saw: There are now several items from Homer’s trash and an extremely interesting piece of paper in my possession. We’re wrapping up the PPS meeting, and after I help Piper talk to a teacher and say hi to Trixie, I’ll head home. I just checked with Dorothy and she’s doing fine with the twins.

  Wa
lly quickly tapped out a reply: If you have time, drop off the evidence at the PD before returning to the RV. I’ve arranged with the crime scene techs to rush the DNA tests on the pumpkin seed hulls. We can have it in 24–72 hours from when we deliver the comparison sample.

  Dante’s voice broke into Wally’s concentration. “If you’re done playing with your cell, maybe we can get this meeting started.”

  “Seriously?” Wally raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for you. Granted, it’s less than your usual half an hour, but—”

  “Judas Priest!” Dante yelled. “Doesn’t anyone realize how busy I am?”

  “About as busy as I am with a murder and a missing person.” Wally allowed his exasperation to show in his voice.

  “I told you to quit wasting resources on that Baker woman,” Dante screeched like a buzzard thwarted from its afternoon snack of carrion. “She’s either dead at the bottom of some lake or in Las Vegas spending her husband’s money!”

  “I’ve called off the searchers, but Mrs. Baker’s disappearance is still an open case.” Wally crossed his legs and drawled, “Now what’s your grand plan?”

  Dante scowled at Wally. “I should just let you and the police department end up with the scraps you deserve on your contract.”

  “Try that and you’ll have no officers working as of New Year’s Day.” Wally tapped the arm of his chair. “Do you understand what it would look like without the police on duty when all the drunks start leaving the bars at three a.m.?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Dante thrust out his chin. “Anyway, I’ve come up with a solution for both the salary issue and the additional staffing.”

  “And this idea is what?” Wally waved his hand at Dante to continue.

  “Annual bonus payments—a thousand a year for rookies, two thousand for senior officers, and twenty-five hundred for sergeants and above,” Dante announced, then hurriedly added, “By awarding bonuses versus increases in salary, we lessen the costs of pensions.”

  “You also decrease the pensions.” Wally leaned back and crossed his legs.

  “Only slightly,” Dante wheedled. “But otherwise we would need to raise property taxes and all those citizens who supported keeping the police department rather than having the county deputies take over might reconsider.”

  Although the mayor was right, any sense of cooperation Wally had felt coming into the meeting immediately evaporated. The trustees would make sure that the Scumble Riverites never heard that the true reason for the tax hike was due to the property the board was trying to buy and not the police contract. Even if the information was made public, most people would never believe it. The trustees would manage to spin it so that the cops were the bad guys.

  “I can take your idea of the bonuses to my officers.” Wally threw Dante a warning look. “But how about the increase in uniform allowance and lifting the cap on how many hours the part-timers can work?”

  “Done.” Dante nodded. “We’ll raise the allowance to fifteen hundred and do away with the limitations on the part-timers.”

  “That sounds fair.” Wally narrowed his eyes. Dante didn’t usually give anything away without a struggle. There was a catch here somewhere. “What about the increase in staff?”

  “I saved the best for last.” Dante laced his fingers over his beer belly, rocked back in his chair, and smiled smugly. “Through one of my good friend’s generosity, we are being provided with a police dog at cost.”

  When Wally was silent, Dante continued, “You’ve stated that the main reason you want an additional cop is to have two officers on duty during the evening hours. A police dog can be that second officer. It can add a level of safety for the officer, help with drug busts, and track missing persons.”

  Wally fought to keep his voice neutral. “But officers need to be trained to work with a K-9 partner and we don’t have the budget for that.” He wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it might be workable if there was money for an officer’s education in the budget.

  “According to her résumé, that girl you hired had a dog handling course in college. We can start with that.” Dante straightened a stack of files on his desk, then not looking up he said, “It’s my best offer. You got Anthony full-time and we can’t afford another salary right now. Maybe on the next contract.”

  “Which will come up when?” Wally stared until Dante met his gaze.

  Dante fingered the gold chain that stretched across his vest. “We’re willing to drop the time span from six to five years.”

  “Three,” Wally stated, leveling a firm look at the mayor.

  “Four,” Dante countered.

  “Let me talk to the other officers.” Wally tapped his pen on his thigh.

  “You know good and well they’ll go along with your lead,” Dante sneered.

  “My officers think for themselves.” Wally was about to say more when he felt his cell phone vibrate. “I’ll get back to you as soon as there’s a decision.”

  “Fine.” The mayor turned away, snatched up the receiver, and began to dial.

  Wally stood and walked back to his own office before checking his phone. When he saw that the missed call was from Thea, he punched in his password and listened to the dispatcher’s voicemail. “Krissy Ficher is here for her one o’clock appointment with you.”

  Wally glanced at his watch. It was already five after one. He’d hoped to grab a bite to eat before the home health aide’s interview, but as usual Dante had kept him cooling his heels too long.

  Sighing, Wally headed downstairs. When he reached the station’s lobby, he found an attractive woman who appeared to be in her mid- to late twenties leaning against the counter. She was dressed in a black skirt, white blouse, and a jean jacket that looked to be more for fashion than warmth.

  The woman was chatting with Thea, but as soon as she spotted Wally, she turned and with a bright smile asked, “Chief Boyd?”

  “Yes.” Wally held out his hand. “And you must be Krissy Ficher.”

  “I am. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here last week, but as I told you, I was dealing with a family situation.” The woman shook Wally’s hand. “I had my fingers crossed that Edie would be home by the time I got back.”

  “Unfortunately not.” Wally watched the woman carefully. “I was hoping Mrs. Baker might have contacted you. Maybe sent you a note in the mail or something.”

  “No such luck. Besides, I don’t think she had my postal address.” Krissy wrinkled her brow. “I hadn’t been taking care of her that long and I can’t think of a reason that I would have given it to her.”

  “She might have seen it on your employment application since I’m sure Mr. Baker had you complete one.” Moving toward the door, Wally said, “Come on back. We can use the break room to talk.”

  “Sure.” Krissy cheerfully crossed the threshold, her ankle boots clicking on the linoleum.

  As Wally held the door for her, he caught a whiff of her perfume. He wrinkled his nose at the overpowering fragrance. Why women bathed themselves in cologne was beyond him. He preferred a lighter scent or none at all.

  Walking down the hall, Wally asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Do you have any herbal tea? Coffee really isn’t good for you.” Krissy smiled. “I try to eat and drink only organic to stay in tiptop shape.”

  “That’s an admirable goal. My wife just had twins a few months ago and as an older father, I’m doing my best to get healthier too.”

  Krissy nodded approvingly. “I think older fathers can be better than young, immature ones. They have so much wisdom to share.”

  Wally glanced at her. Her expression was open and she didn’t seem to be flirting.

  He led her into the break room, and when he flipped on the switch, the overhead lights sputtered to life. They cast a harsh fluorescent glow, which wasn’t very restful for officers grab
bing a cup of coffee but perfect for interviewing suspects.

  Gesturing to the table, Wally said, “Have a seat and I’ll see what kind of tea we have.”

  “Thanks.” Krissy settled on one of the chairs and placed her large purse on the floor. Then she folded her hands on the tabletop in front of her and said, “If you don’t have herbal, green tea would be okay.”

  Wally searched through the cabinets by the sink and found a Tupperware bowl containing assorted tea bags. After rifling through them, he held up a yellow packet and asked, “How’s this?”

  “Ah. Lemon Zinger.” The tan fedora on Krissy’s brown curls bounced as she nodded. “That’s fine.”

  Wally heated a mug of water in the microwave, then placed it and the tea bag in front of the young woman. He sat across from her and waited to see what she’d say. In his experience, people told you more when you allowed them to start the conversation.

  As the silence lengthened, Krissy tore open the packet, dunked the bag in the water, and stared at the liquid in her cup, then finally said, “I was really surprised about Edie. Mr. Baker kept a close eye on her.”

  “I imagine watching someone with memory issues 24/7 is impossible.” Wally pulled a legal pad toward himself and took a pen from his shirt pocket. “How is Mr. Baker as a boss?”

  “You know.” Krissy shrugged. “Kind of old school and strict, but at least he isn’t a letch. I hate when old guys try to grab me when I’m taking care of their wives. My fiancé would kill them if he knew.”

  “I bet.” Wally tapped his pen on the legal pad. “So you’re engaged?”

  He glanced at her bare finger and she quickly covered it, then said, “We’re waiting until we can go shopping together to get the ring.”

  “Good idea.” Wally smiled, then refocused the conversation. He didn’t want to discuss emerald cut versus pear shapes. “Can you go through a typical day with Mrs. Baker? From when you arrived to when you left.”