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“Yes.” Skye wrinkled her brow. “Maybe a date that went wrong.”

“There were no signs of forced sex. No tearing or bruising,” Wally said in a clinical tone. “And any evidence of consensual intercourse would have been lost because she was in the water so long. First thing tomorrow I’ll be checking to see if the boyfriend has an alibi and if their relationship was exclusive.”

“Today at school, Thor seemed worried about her.” Skye told Wally what the physical education teacher had said about Blair’s absence.

“Did he seem sincere?” Wally put down his empty ice cream bowl and made another note, then looked at Skye and asked, “Or did the guy seem more like he was trying to establish his innocence?”

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin. “He seemed sincere at the time.”

“Anything else you overheard or noticed at the school today?”

“Not today.” Skye savored the last bite of caramel-covered ice cream. “But according to Trixie, Blair wasn’t very popular with most of the other staff. Some of the faculty disliked her because she poached kids from their sports teams, and others weren’t fond of her because of her abrasive personality.” Skye hesitated, then added, “Again, according to Trixie, some parents had problems with Blair, too. And she never ate lunch in the teachers’ lounge.”

“That’s good info. Since we wanted to keep the victim’s identity a secret, we weren’t able to question the teachers today about Blair. I’m sure tomorrow, when we start interviewing her colleagues, we’ll get an earful.” Wally smiled as he wrote down Skye’s observations. “Any idea what the parents’ issues with the vic might have been?”

“When I stopped at the Clean Bee,” Skye said, tilting her head, “I had an interesting conversation about that
with the man in front of me in line. His daughter’s the captain of the volleyball team, and he gave me an earful about Blair and the other parents.”

“Seriously?” Wally chuckled. “You really have to love a small town.”

“Well, I’m not sure how helpful this will be, but the man mentioned that Blair had really turned the volleyball team around.” Skye’s face lit up. “It was nice hearing something positive about Blair, since my own experience with her was so negative.”

“What did this guy say about the parents who didn’t like her?” Wally asked.

“All he said was that even though she’d improved the team’s performance, some folks were unhappy with her methods because she demanded so much of the girls’ time.” Skye twitched her shoulders. “But my guess is that in addition to that issue, there were parents whose daughters got cut from the team who were unhappy with her decisions. Especially since I sincerely doubt she was nice when she informed the girls they hadn’t made the squad.”

“Sounds a lot like my experience playing baseball and football in high school.” Wally rolled his eyes. “Parents can be extremely competitive about their kids’ participation in sports.”

“So I hear.” Skye made a face, then used her finger to get the last of the whipped cream from the bottom of her dish. Catching Wally’s amused look, she blushed and put the empty bowl next to his.

“It’s really helpful having you in the school, where you can gather information. What you’ve told me tonight might be the lead we need to find the killer.” Wally went back to making notes. “At least now we have somewhere to start the investigation.”

This was it. Skye needed to talk to him about her worries. She cleared her throat and said, “I’ve been thinking about whether or not I should change some things now that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” Wally put down the notepad he’d been using, turned toward her, and kissed her on the cheek. “What kind of changes are you thinking about making?”

“Like maybe I should take a leave of absence from the PD until after I have the baby.” She rested her palm on her stomach. “I don’t want to do anything that might be a risk for Juniorette.”

“Of course not. And I don’t want you to either.” He stroked her belly with his fingers. “You need to do whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I called my doctor this afternoon,” Skye confessed. “She said that bringing up Blair’s body from the pool and doing CPR didn’t endanger the baby. She said it was okay for me to continue with all my normal activities.”

“That’s great.” Wally caressed her jaw with his thumb. “Calling her was a good idea.”

“Do you think I shouldn’t take part in this investigation?” Skye looked at him from under her lashes, trying to gauge his reaction. “It’s your baby, too, so you should have an equal vote.”

“Pregnant or not pregnant, I never want to see you in danger.”

“I know.” Skye kept her face down so he couldn’t read the uncertainty in her eyes. “And I appreciate how you’ve always tried to keep me safe, without smothering me or being overprotective.”

“But I don’t think it’s in your nature to be indifferent to others’ problems.” Wally cupped her cheek. “You need to help people. To be involved in life. Neither of us wants to go down that slippery slope of becoming a helicopter parent or turning into your mother. We’ll just make sure that you have plenty of help with the baby. Maybe hire a nanny.”

“Maybe, but I’m not ready to think about that yet. Once we announce that I’m pregnant, we can figure out the rest.” Skye turned her face and kissed his palm. This was a big part of why she knew she loved Wally and not Simon and why she had married him. Simon’s insistence
that she be as coldly logical as he was drove her nuts. Wally accepted her for who she was, with no desire to change her, and that made her feel cherished.

When she didn’t speak, Wally continued. “Regarding your role as psych consultant to the PD, how about we play it by ear? Do only what you’re comfortable with on this case. Take a pass on anything that makes you nervous without any feelings of guilt.”

“That sounds good.” She could barely force the words past the lump in her throat. Wally was so sweet. He always knew what to say and how to say it to comfort her. She smiled and tried to lighten the moment. “But I’m Catholic, so I always feel guilty.”

“Not a totally bad thing.” Wally grinned. “Keeps you on the right path.”

“You are so not funny.” Skye whacked him on the arm, then turned serious and said, “Making calls and keeping my ears open at school is no problem. I just don’t want to get into a situation with a suspect that might turn physical or get out of control.”

“We’ll just make sure to do any suspect interviews I’d like your help with at the PD.” Wally nestled Skye against his side.

“Good.” Skye let out the breath she’d been holding. “I may not have liked Blair very much, but no one should be able to get away with murder.”

CHAPTER 11

FYEO—For Your Eyes Only

S
even a.m. the next morning, Skye slid into her Bel Air and pulled out of the garage. Worst luck, the Chevy’s faulty lights had been easy to fix.
Darn!
It had taken her father only a couple of hours to find the short and repair it, so she was once again forced to use her own car. After tooling around in Wally’s cool T-bird, driving the ’57 Bel Air felt like she was maneuvering a float down Fifth Avenue in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

On the bright side, she didn’t feel nauseated. When she’d woken up, it had taken her a few minutes to realize she wasn’t queasy. But after getting out of bed, and for the first time in a couple of months not having to race to the bathroom, she’d felt as if she’d won the lottery. And not a puny scratch-off—the multimillion-dollar Powerball.

Skye wiggled happily on the roomy bench seat of the Bel Air. Maybe the morning sickness was over and she was finally into the glowing part of the pregnancy that she’d read so much about in romance novels.

It was good to have something encouraging happen at the beginning of what would be a tough day. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensation for a few seconds; then her
monkey mind whirled into action and she thumped her hand on the steering wheel.
Hell’s bells!
She’d forgotten to order the rubber duckies for Trixie’s race.

Okay. She’d do it as soon as she got to her office. What else had she overlooked in the aftermath of yesterday’s turmoil? Let’s see . . . She had an after-school meeting with the student newspaper staff to rope them into helping with the race, but that was it. There wasn’t anything more that she’d promised to do for the fund-raiser. Right?

She certainly hoped not. Today was already going to be a busy one without adding any more items to her to-do list. After talking to Blair’s parents, Wally had released the identity of the victim and given a brief statement to Kathy Steel, who had hurriedly squeezed the breaking news into today’s
Scumble River Star
.

Just their luck that the weekly newspaper came out on Wednesdays and Kathy had been able to get the item in before the issue went to press. Everyone with a subscription would read about the murder over breakfast. Those folks would immediately phone any friends who didn’t get the paper delivered to their doorstep and fill them in on the latest gossip. That meant by now most townspeople knew that Blair was dead and that foul play was suspected.

Thankfully, after a student’s death a few years ago, Skye had written up a crisis-intervention procedure. Since before Skye had been hired, neither a social worker nor a psychologist had ever remained in the employment of the Scumble River school district for more than a year, no one had ever bothered to create an emergency plan. At the time of that earlier sad incident, Skye’d had to make it up on the fly. At least now she had a strategy in place to handle the shock and grief of the staff and students.

Both now and during that earlier crisis, Homer saw no need for such an intervention, but then again, he wouldn’t. As she had before, Skye insisted on providing services. She’d pointed out that with any deaths
associated with the school, many of the students could suffer emotional trauma.

For the majority of kids, it was their first taste of mortality. And although most of the teens would act as if the death didn’t bother them, if the situation wasn’t handled properly, studies showed that the students would be vulnerable to suicide attempts, substance abuse, and other risk-taking behaviors.

On this occasion, with the passing of a teacher rather than a fellow student, fewer of the kids might be affected by the death. But it was likely that the faculty would be more upset. Even staff members who weren’t fond of Blair would probably have a reaction to her passing. Feeling ashamed that they hadn’t liked her could be just as hard to deal with as grieving. After all, guilt was almost as powerful an emotion as affection. Maybe stronger.

Skye’s current plan was to ask the social worker from the special ed co-op to handle the faculty while she saw the students. She figured that the teachers might be less inhibited with someone they didn’t have to face in the lounge every day. And she was definitely more comfortable dealing with the kids. In order to inform anyone who hadn’t heard the news about Blair, Homer had agreed to get the teachers together at 7:20. When Skye arrived at school, she had ten minutes to get organized before the meeting, and she didn’t want to be late.

Hurrying through the front door, Skye found Risé Vaughn waiting in the lobby, balancing several bright pink-and-orange bakery boxes in her arms. She and her husband, Orlando Erwin, owned Tales and Treats, the local bookstore and café. And although the store didn’t usually deliver, Skye had called Risé and asked her as a special favor to bring over an assortment of pastries for the gathering, figuring that the sugary snacks would help offset the staff’s feelings of shock.

After paying the shopkeeper and thanking her for her help, Skye rushed to the home-ec area. The meeting was
being held in that classroom because it was one of the few spaces big enough to hold the entire faculty. The other choices were the lunchroom—but students who arrived at school early were seated in that area—and the gym. However, considering that Blair had been murdered in the PE wing, using the gymnasium hadn’t seemed like a good idea.

Skye laid out the goodies on a back table, along with the napkins she’d brought from home. Paper plates would have been better, but she didn’t have enough on hand and she hadn’t made it to the store to buy them.

A lot of the teachers were already assembled, and because she didn’t want to answer their questions or start the meeting until everyone had arrived, Skye distracted them with the pastries. She pointed out the varieties and praised Tales and Treats for providing the baked goods on such short notice.

While Skye waited for everyone to select their snack, she suddenly felt her own grief and despair fighting their way to the surface. Her experience with Blair had been negative, but the death of anyone, especially someone who had barely begun her life, was almost too much to bear. Who knew what the young woman might have accomplished or how much she might have grown and changed if she’d had the chance to live to a ripe old age?

Pushing her sorrow away, Skye stepped up to the front of the room and said, “For those of you who haven’t heard, there’s some sad news that I need to share with you. Blair Hucksford’s body was found yesterday morning at the bottom of the pool.” There was no reason to announce that she was the one who had found Blair, since that fact hadn’t been released. “It has been determined that she died under suspicious circumstances. As of this morning, the police are investigating her death.”

Skye waited for the whispers to die down, then resumed the speech she’d rehearsed in front of her bathroom mirror. “If you feel a personal sense of loss and think you can’t handle your classes, please let me know
immediately. I’ll inform Homer, and he’ll make other arrangements to cover your absence.”

Skye paused, but no one came forward. She had noticed that Thor Goodson was not present, and after Trixie’s account of Blair’s relationship with the other staff, Skye hadn’t expected anyone else to be overcome with grief. Although some of the teachers might feel the need for help dealing with their emotions later, right now there was a good chance they were still processing both the event and their feelings.

Skye continued. “Because we’re a small school, when the bell rings to signal the beginning of classes, we’ll assemble all the students in the cafeteria. I will announce Blair’s death and give the kids what little information we have regarding the circumstances surrounding it. At that point, all teachers should return to their homeroom assignments. Any students who want to talk more about Blair’s death will be asked to stay in the cafeteria. The rest will be dismissed to their classes.”