Authors: Denise Swanson

Murder of a Sleeping Beauty (7 page)

BOOK: Murder of a Sleeping Beauty

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“Better let people know because Wally will no doubt return any minute.” Skye waved and backed out of the door. Without warning, she felt icy fingers grab her arm. She yelped and spun around.

Kent Walker’s pale blue eyes stared into hers.

“Oh my gosh, Kent, you scared me to death.” She shook off his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you aware that the police chief is interrogating some of the students right here in school? I tried to sit in with the kids as he questioned them, but one of his storm troopers threw me out.”

One thing she had liked about Kent was his high level of involvement with the students. So why didn’t what he had just said sound right? She didn’t have time to think about it now. “Show me where they are.”

Kent guided her down the hall to the Home Ec room. The space was divided into two. The half nearest the door was filled with sewing machines, several teens, all of whom avoided looking at each other, and the police officers who were guarding them.

The other half of the room was set up as the cooking area, and Wally had confiscated this section for his interviews. The heavy stoves and refrigerators that formed a wall between the two areas filtered out most of the conversation.

Skye marched through the sewing area before the police could stop her. The officers were quicker where Kent was concerned, and nabbed him as he tried to follow her into the interrogation section.

As he was escorted away, he yelled, “Tell the kids they don’t have to say anything.”

She yelled back, “I’ll take care of the students; you tell Homer to start calling their parents.”

Wally was speaking as she entered the kitchen. “We’re just trying to figure out what happened to your friend. There’s no need to be afraid.” He leaned casually against the counter.

The blonde sitting at the aqua Formica kitchen table did not look frightened. The girl’s cold blue eyes sparkled with disdain as she turned them toward Skye. “You’re that shrink that talked to us this morning.”

Skye nodded. “I’m Ms. Denison, the school psychologist. And you’re Zoë VanHorn, Lorelei’s best friend.”

“Right on the first try.” Zoë examined her long purple nails. “I don’t have to talk to the cops, correct?”

Before Skye could answer, Wally moved from the counter to her side and ordered in a low voice, “Get out.”

“No.” Skye wrinkled her brow. Darn, this whole business was so much harder with Wally still mad at her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had betrayed his trust by investigating alone last summer, but she had apologized repeatedly. What more could she do to make things right between them? She had never dreamed he would be this hurt.

Wally took her arm and tried to lead her away.

She refused to budge. “Have you called Zoë’s parents?”

Wally released his grip. “Get out, or I’ll have you removed by force.”

“A school representative must be present if a minor is to be interrogated without a parent in attendance.”

“That’s not the law.”

“No? Well, it’s in the school handbook, which I’m obligated to follow, and the school attorney has advised us to handle things this way.” Good thing she had actually read the manual when she was first hired.

“Tough. Get out.” Wally turned his back on her.

Zoë waved her hand. “I want her to stay.”

“No.” Wally’s face was beginning to turn red.

The teen shrugged. “Then I want a lawyer.”

Wally’s face went from cherry to maroon. “Have a seat, Ms. Denison.”

“Thank you, Chief Boyd.” Skye settled herself in a chrome kitchen chair and studied Wally. Once his face had returned to its natural tan hue, he was a handsome man. He had recently turned forty, but except for a few gray threads in his curly black hair, and a couple of lines radiating from his brown eyes, there were few signs of his age.

Skye shook her head. She had been half in love with him since she was fifteen. When she first met him he was fresh out of the police academy. Everyone liked him, especially the teens. He was fair and honest with them. She had developed a huge crush on the young officer, and he had handled it kindly without ever embarrassing her or taking advantage of the situation.

In the ensuing years she had moved away, he had gotten married, she had moved back, and they had become friends. But last summer she had destroyed that friendship by going behind his back. That betrayal, and his wife’s leaving him for another man, had changed Wally. Skye kept hoping it was a temporary situation and that he would return to his old self, given enough time.

Skye suddenly noticed that both the chief and the teen were staring at her, waiting for her to speak. “So, what were you and Zoë discussing?”

“I had asked Zoë to tell me a little about Lorelei’s movements yesterday.”

The girl ran her fingers through her short curls and wet her already-glossy lips. “Let’s see. It was pretty much same old, same old.”

Wally drew up a chair and sat opposite the females. “Start at the beginning. When was the first time you saw Lorelei yesterday?”

“I picked her up at her house around seven, and we buzzed the gut for a half hour or so.”

Wally and Skye’s eyes met. “Buzzing the gut” was what the teens called driving down Basin Street, Scumble River’s main drag, and circling back by cutting through the McDonald’s parking lot on one end and Mayor Clapp’s used-car lot on the other. It was also called “shooting the loop,” and it was technically illegal, although that law was not often enforced.

Skye spoke, earning a glare from Wally. “What did you girls talk about?”

“Stuff.” Her bony shoulders under a tight-ribbed sweater moved up and down. “You know, whose clothes are so ‘last year,’ who’s a trendoid wannabe, who was slipping who the tongue at the party last night.”

“Did you pick up anyone else?”

“Well, no, I drive a Miata.” Zoë looked at the adults, who appeared clueless. “No backseat.”

“Nice wheels,” Skye murmured. It was pretty pathetic that a teenager owned the car that she could only dream of buying. It was clear that Skye had taken a wrong turn somewhere on life’s highway.

“Yeah, right.” Wally tried to regain control of the interview. “So you arrived at school at approximately seven-thirty, but classes don’t start until eight.”

“We had a cheerleader meeting.” Zoë bent down and adjusted the ankle strap on her black sandals.

“Who was there?” Wally asked, taking out his notebook.

Skye itched to do the same.

“Mrs. Frayne, me, Lorelei, Caresse, and Farrah. Tara was on vacation, and we’re down a girl since DiDi moved away. That’s what the meeting was about. Picking a new Black Widow.”

“What the he—ck is a Black Widow?” Wally asked.

Zoë rolled her eyes. “The name of the cheerleading squad, of course. The baseball and football teams are the Scorpions, so we’re the Black Widows. Get it?”

The chief nodded wearily. “What are the other girls’ last names?”

“Farrah Miles and Caresse Wren.”

“Next, you went to your first-period class, right?”

The teen nodded. “We have all our classes together.”

“Lorelei wasn’t out of your sight all day?” The chief frowned.

“Well, except for seventh and eighth hour.”

“What happened during those periods?”

“Since there was no PE, and Lorelei and Chase had back-to-back study hall, Mr. Walker called a rehearsal for
Sleeping Beauty
.” Zoë pulled a mirror out of her purse.

“You aren’t in the play?” Skye’s question earned her another scowl from the chief.

“Of course I am.” A tiny line appeared between the teen’s perfect eyebrows. “But Lorelei and Chase were the leads.”

“What is Chase’s last name?” Wally slid back his chair.

“Wren. He’s Caresse’s twin.” Zoë spread another coat of scarlet gloss on her lips.

Wally looked at Skye. “Ms. Denison, is Mr. Walker the disappearing teacher you dragged me over to meet yesterday?”

“Yes.” Skye thought a moment. There was someone missing. “How about Troy Yates? I thought he was her boyfriend. Wasn’t she with him at all yesterday?”

Zoë shrugged. “Probably. Who knows?”

The chief nodded thoughtfully as the three sat in silence.

Finally, Zoë asked, “Is everything Crystal Light-clear now?”

Wally didn’t look up from his notebook. “Clear as mud.”

CHAPTER 5

Mind Your Ps and Clues

A
fter Zoë left, Wally said to Skye, “She didn’t seem overly grief-stricken, did she?” “One of the first stages of grief is denial. Maybe it hasn’t hit her yet. So many adolescents have no concept of mortality.” Skye felt she had to support the girl, but in her heart she agreed with the chief. Zoë had not come across as sad.

“That girl’s period of mourning is about as short as her skirt.”

Skye didn’t want to argue, so instead she changed the subject. “Have you talked to Elvira Doozier yet?”

“She’s not at school today. I sent someone out to her house.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“The Dooziers just don’t like talking to the police.”

“Too bad she’s not here today. I’d like to be with her when you question her.”

Wally slumped in his chair. “I suppose you plan on sitting here for all the interviews?”

“Until their parents arrive.”

“You called the parents? That was a mistake.”

“I told you if you tried to see the kids alone, we had to contact the parents.”

Wally shook his head. Before he could speak, the PA system crackled. “Ms. Denison, line one.”

Now what? Skye shot out of her seat and hurried toward the office. They would never page her for a phone call if it weren’t extremely urgent. Most of the time, she was lucky to get a message slip stuck in her mailbox.

She rounded the corner and grabbed the receiver. “Skye Denison, may I help you?”

“Skye, it’s Caroline Greer. Thank goodness I found you. We need you right away.”

“What’s up?” Skye couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard the elementary-school principal so shaken up. Caroline Greer was famous for her calm demeanor.

“Linette Ingels.”

Shit!
Skye had forgotten that Lorelei had a sister. She should have had a crisis team at the elementary school, too. “She’s not at school, is she?”

“No, but she was on the phone last night with her friends. They’re all upset, and the hysteria is spreading through the school faster than lice.” Caroline’s tone showed her strain. “How soon can you get here?”

Caroline was a great principal. If she said she needed help, things must be really bad. Skye looked at the clock. It was a little past twelve-thirty. The kids must have just gotten in from lunch recess. “I’ll be right over. Just let me tie up some loose ends.” Skye could hear excited voices in the background.

“Hurry.”

The line went dead in Skye’s hand. Opal was still busy answering phones. Through the open door to the health room, Skye could see the coach with a receiver in one hand and an aggrieved expression on his face as he grunted into the mouthpiece. It made her whole day to see that man actually work.

Homer was still with the co-op coordinator when Skye entered his office. She explained the situation at the grade school and suggested that the principal sit in on the rest of the chief’s interviews with their students.

As Skye talked, the coordinator stood and picked up his briefcase. “Well, Homer,” he said, “looks like things here are under control. I’ve got to get going.”

“Since you’re leaving, could you drop me at the elementary school on your way?” Skye asked.

A look of annoyance crossed the man’s face. “Are you ready to leave now? I’ve got an important meeting at one.”

“Just let me grab my purse. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. What kind of car do you drive?”

“A red Corvette.”

Somehow his answer didn’t surprise her.

After a brief stop in the grade school’s office, Skye went directly to Linette Ingels’s fifth-grade classroom. The teacher and principal were each surrounded by several students. Other kids were wandering around the room. The children were talking excitedly in loud, high-pitched voices.

Skye whispered in the principal’s ear, “Shall I take over?”

Caroline nodded, and eased out of the grasp of several girls. The teacher took the signal and followed suit.

Skye raised her voice. “Hi, I’m Ms. Denison, and I work at this school. One of my jobs is to help kids who are feeling bad. Anybody here feeling sort of bad or sad?” She knew she had to build some rapport with this age level before talking directly about Lorelei’s death.

Two-thirds of the students raised their hands, as did their teacher, who smiled wearily.

“Okay. Let’s sit on the carpet in a circle.” Skye eased onto the floor. “I know many of you talked to Linette last night. A lot of times when something happens that makes us feel sad, it helps to talk to other people about it. I’ll bet that’s why Linette called you.”

A girl with long red curls bounced up onto her knees. “Linette said her sister died, but we don’t believe it.”

Skye saw several nodding heads. Good. The little girl had given her the opening she needed to talk about Lorelei’s death. “Why don’t you believe Linette?”

“She tells stories,” the redhead answered.

“I see.” Skye tucked that info away for later examination. “Well, I’m sorry to say she’s telling the truth this time. Lorelei did die yesterday.”

A timid voice asked, “At school?”

“Yes, but that is very unusual. You don’t have to worry about that happening to you, or anyone else you know.” Skye said a silent prayer that she was telling the truth.

The kids fell quiet.

“How many of you knew Lorelei?” Skye asked.

BOOK: Murder of a Sleeping Beauty

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