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Authors: Denise Swanson

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BOOK: Murder of a Sleeping Beauty
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“No, why?”
“She wants Zoë to play Sleeping Beauty.”
“Well, she was my second choice, but she makes a wonderful evil fairy.” Kent stood up. “Where is that waitress?”
“Punishing you for asking a stupid question,” Skye muttered under her breath. Aloud she said, “Speaking of Zoë, she said something that confused me.”
Kent walked over to the kitchen and stuck his head through the opening. “We’d like to order now,” he called.
Skye covered her face and considered bolting for the door. “Sit down,” she hissed.
Kent came back to their table, followed by their waitress, who said, “Frozen.”
He opened his mouth, but Skye kicked him before he could speak, and said, “We’ll both have the steak sandwich, medium rare, and fries. Iced tea for me, red wine for him.”
After the waitress left, Skye interrupted Kent again. “Did you have a rehearsal scheduled yesterday, during seventh and eighth periods?”
“Yes, for Sleeping Beauty and the Prince, but Chase didn’t show up, so I told Lorelei she could go back to study hall.”
“What did
you
do then?”
“Chief Boyd wanted to know that, too,” Kent complained. “I went back to my classroom and graded some essays.”
“Did Lorelei leave the gym while you were there?”
“No, she said she had a headache and didn’t want to go back to a noisy study hall, so I said she could lie down for a bit.” Kent looked guilty. “I know I’m not supposed to leave a student alone, but she said she’d only stay a little while.”
“Was anyone else around when you left?”
“Not that I saw. I wasn’t paying much attention. Why are you asking all these questions? Are you working for Wally?”
Skye laughed uncomfortably. “Nope, I’m just curious.”
She changed the subject to the new rules on copy-machine use at the high school. They chatted about school issues until they finished their meal. To ease her conscience, Skye insisted on paying for her half of the check.
Once they were settled in the car and headed toward her cottage, Skye ventured one more inquiry. “Why did you need to get into the gym so badly yesterday afternoon, and why did you disappear when I went to get Wally?”
Kent reddened. “I wanted to get some personal items from backstage, but then I realized how silly I was being and left.”
“What personal items?”
“That was the silly thing. Just some poetry I had been working on. I was afraid the police would make fun of it.”
“Oh, did anyone say anything?”
“No, I doubt they even noticed.”
“Wally’s pretty good about keeping things confidential.” Skye laughed. “Unless your poems were to Lorelei, he wouldn’t mention them.”
Kent’s attention seemed focused on pulling the car into her driveway. “That’s good to know.” He walked her to her door and turned to go. “Well, good night.”
“See you tomorrow.” During all the time they’d been dating he’d never once indicated a desire to accompany her inside, which now that she thought about it was a little strange. Skye stared at his retreating back. There was something odd about Kent Walker, no doubt about it.
CHAPTER 7
Finger in Every Why
 
 
 
 
T
wo eyes glowed eerily in the dark foyer as Skye opened her front door. A small shriek escaped her as she fumbled for the light switch, hit it, and saw Bingo sitting on the top of the hall table.
She scooped up the cat, bringing him nose to nose with her. “Never do that again. If you give me a heart attack, you’ll have to live with May, and you know how my mother feels about animals in the house.”
Bingo yawned, revealing needle-sharp white teeth and a tongue like a pink emery board. He wiggled out of Skye’s grasp and trotted into the kitchen.
She checked his bowls. Water and dry food were available, but Skye knew that the feline was waiting for the canned stuff he preferred. A few months ago, the vet had suggested giving Bingo only dry diet food. Bingo had refused to eat for a week and never lost an ounce. Skye eventually caved in and gave him what he wanted.
It occurred to her that perhaps Bingo’s supposed weight problem was similar to her own. Maybe, like Skye, the cat had reached his set point, and the only way he would shed pounds would be to exist on so few calories that life wouldn’t be worth living.
As she was dishing out the cat’s dinner, Skye noticed the light on her answering machine blinking like a drunken firefly. How many calls were there?
Skye resisted the urge to play the messages immediately. She needed to get out of the clothes she had put on fifteen hours ago, and wash off whatever remained of her makeup.
After a quick shower, she slipped into her robe and poured a silken pearl of lotion into her palm, smoothing it over her face. It was such a luxury to be entirely comfortable. Now she was ready for round two of the day from hell.
Skye settled at the kitchen table with a glass of Caffeine-Free Diet Coke, a pad of paper, and a pen. She pressed the play button and listened to the first message.
“This is your mother.” May didn’t believe in answering machines and had only recently been persuaded to speak into them; she drew the line at leaving any actual information.
The next few missives were from parents who had somehow gotten Skye’s unlisted number. Not a truly difficult feat in a small town, where everyone knew someone who knew the person you wanted to track down.
Skye decided to return their calls from school. They weren’t emergencies, and if she started talking to parents from home, she’d end up working twenty-four seven.
The next three messages were from May again. On the last one she actually said something besides her name. “Skye, call me at the police station. I’m working three to eleven tonight.”
Skye turned to the wall unit and dialed. Her mother hadn’t sounded like herself on the tape. She hoped another relative wasn’t under arrest, as had happened more than once before.
The phone didn’t ring even once before it was answered. “Scumble River Police Department, May speaking.”
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“Where have you been?”
“I was at school until after five, and then I grabbed a bite to eat with Kent.”
“You’re not really interested in that boy, are you?”
“Ma, he’s nearly forty. I think he qualifies as a man.” Skye wondered how they had gotten so far down this road when she didn’t even remember making the turn.
“He acts about fifteen. You need to get back together with Simon.” May paused. “Heck, now that Wally’s divorce is almost final, I’d rather see you with him than Kent ‘my shit doesn’t stink’ Walker.”
“What in heaven’s name did Kent say to you at Christmas to tick you off so badly?”
“I’m not saying. Just stop seeing him.”
Skye considered telling her mother that she was about to quit dating the English teacher, but decided it was only fair to Kent to let him be the first to know. It was highly unusual for May to take such an intense dislike to an eligible bachelor. Ordinarily she was happy with any male Skye dated, as long as he was single and breathing. She just wanted to see her daughter married with children.
“Let’s change the subject,” Skye suggested. “Why were you trying to find me?”
“I figured you’d want to know the latest on the Ingels case.”
“Why would I want to know that?” Skye hedged.
“Charlie told me he wants you to investigate, on behalf of the school. And since you’ve upset Wally and broken it off with Simon, I figured your list of informants is getting mighty short.”
Her mom had a point. This time Wally would not sit down and tell her what was going on. And even when they were dating, Simon had never revealed much. May might be the only source she had left.
“You’re right, Mom. As usual, I need your help.” Skye reached down and scratched behind Bingo’s ears as he twined around her ankles.
Skye could almost hear May purr over the phone as she said, “Did you know that Kent Walker was the last person to see her alive—if you believe his story? You see why I want you to dump him? He’s probably the killer.”
Skye took a sip of soda pop and considered how to answer that statement. Ignoring it was always a good option. “Interesting. Anything about cause of death? Time-wise there was a pretty small window of opportunity. Kent left her at the beginning of seventh period, and I found her about fifteen minutes before the end of eighth period. That leaves nearly an hour and fifteen minutes for whatever happened to take place.”
“They found fragments of pills in the bottom of a bottle that was near her body,” May answered. “The pills and bottle have been sent to the lab for analysis. No clear fingerprints, except Lorelei’s, and the label was peeled off.”
“I saw that bottle. It looked sort of familiar—it had an unusual shape.” The connection Skye was searching for wouldn’t surface.
“Wally sent officers to check both grocery stores, the liquor store, and the gas stations. They didn’t find anything like it.”
“So, they’re pretty sure it’s murder?”
“Like you pointed out with your Aunt Minnie last year, how many people crush tablets and put them in a drink if they’re going to commit suicide? I imagine the same is true for an accidental overdose, and Lorelei’s father claimed she didn’t have any trouble swallowing pills.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Wally plans to talk to some more kids tomorrow and check out where everyone was during seventh and eighth periods.”
“Are you working tomorrow?”
“No, not until Monday.”
“I’ll call this time Monday night, and you can update me.”
“Oh, before I forget, I promised Gillian you’d call her tonight, no matter how late I spoke to you.”
“What does she want?” Since this was the cousin who had abducted Skye last summer, they weren’t on casual chatting terms.
Skye could almost hear her mother’s shrug. “She didn’t say, just told me it was vital she talked to you. Maybe it’s something about the Ingelses. They’re in that beauty-pageant circuit together. Linette is in the eight-to-ten-year-old age range, same as Kristin and Ginger’s daughter, Iris.”
Ginger, Gillian’s twin, had been in on the kidnapping scheme, too.
“Okay, let me hang up and call Gillian. Bye.”
“Dad has to pick up a part tomorrow in Brooklyn, so if you can be ready by seven, he’ll give you a ride to school.”
“I’ll be ready. Bye.”
“Bye, honey.”
Skye smiled. She could tell her mother was thrilled that they were on a “case” together. May hardly ever used endearments.
After listening to the rest of her messages, Skye punched in her cousin’s number. It rang several times, and she was about to hang up when a little girl answered. “Hello. Who is this?”
“This is Skye. Can I talk to your mother?”
“She’s in the bathroom.”
“Oh. Could you tell her I—?”
Before Skye could finish her sentence, she heard the phone thunk down and a high-pitched voice scream, “Mom, it’s Aunt Skye.”
The minutes ticked by, and Skye was considering hanging up when her cousin finally said, “Skye, glad you called. Ginger and I need a huge favor. Don’t say no until you hear the whole deal.”
“I’d be glad to help you if I can,” Skye forced herself to respond. Her New Year’s resolution was to be nicer to her aunts, uncles, and cousins.
“Here’s the thing. Both Kristin and Iris are signed up for the Junior Miss Stanley County pageant this weekend. Ginger and I can take them Friday, but we need you for Saturday. We were supposed to be off work, but since the bank was turned over to its new owner last week, all vacation days have been canceled for the first month, and anyone who doesn’t show up is fired.”
“Didn’t you know this was going to happen? The bank was bought out last year sometime.”
“No, they didn’t tell us slaves when the change was going to be made. Only the big shots knew.”
“Oh.” Skye thought fast. “How about their grandmas?”
“Mom’s going back down to Carle Clinic to get her meds adjusted and you know our husbands’ mothers don’t live in town.”
“I don’t have a car and wouldn’t have any idea what I was supposed to do at the pageant.”
“You can drive our minivan. The thing is, the entry fee is nearly three hundred dollars, and we can’t afford to just flush that down the toilet. Especially since the new owners at the bank cut everyone’s salary last year.”
“I see.” Skye considered what May had told her earlier. “Is Linette Ingels in this pageant?”
“Yes, although she’ll probably have to miss because of her sister. That’s another reason I’d hate for Kristin and Iris to have to drop out. Without Linette, they both have a decent chance of winning, or at least finishing in the money.”
“Sure, I’ll take them.” Skye doodled a tiara on her yellow legal pad. “Anything special I should know?”
“We’ll drop the TransSport and the girls off at your place at seven on Saturday. You have to be at Laurel High School by eight, and ready to go on by nine. Kristin and Iris pretty much know what to do, but I’ll jot down some instructions for you.”
“Seven a.m.?” Skye squeaked. She was not a morning person.
“Sorry about that.” Gillian didn’t sound sorry. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. Thanks a million for helping out. Bye.”
 
Friday morning Skye walked through the deserted high school. Although she had arrived nearly half an hour before anyone else was due, she wouldn’t have time for a swim this morning. She headed directly to the guidance office and unlocked the door. Once inside she thumbed on the desk light, opened her appointment book, and put her purse into the right-hand drawer. Settling into the butt-softened leather chair, Skye reached for a pad of passes and started filling them out. She would give these to Opal, who would hand them out to the kids during homeroom.
BOOK: Murder of a Sleeping Beauty
8.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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