Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery (30 page)

“I took them off a burglar when I was a rookie.” Wally’s voice was distracted. “My sergeant told me to keep them because they’d come in handy someday.”

“Have you used them before?” Skye was fascinated with this side of her fiancé. He was usually so persnickety about breaking the law.

He ignored her question. “Got it. Now we slip inside as fast as we can.”

With one last glance behind them to make sure they weren’t being observed, Wally eased the metal door open a few inches, waited for Skye to go through, then followed her, quickly shutting them inside. The room they had entered was windowless and pitch-black.

Wally produced his flashlight and illuminated the area in front of them. This was obviously a catchall space, full of boxes, old office equipment, and cleaning supplies. Skye felt her nose twitch at the odor of ammonia, and prayed she wouldn’t sneeze.

“See that door to our left?” Wally whispered. “I’m betting it leads into the rest of the city hall, so we have to be extremely quiet.”

Skye nodded, glad she had on her tennis shoes. She put her purse strap across her chest—a location she was beginning to think of as her fighting position—and carefully squeezed past the haphazardly piled paraphernalia blocking her path to the exit.

As they stepped through the door into a dimly lit passage, Wally extinguished his flashlight. Now they had a choice: Take the hallway in front of them or the one that veered to the right.

“Let’s each go a different way,” Skye suggested, worried that they were already too late. “What if we go the wrong way and by the time it takes us to backtrack something happens to Spike?”

Wally hesitated, then reluctantly nodded, prodding Skye toward the side corridor. She stood firm, knowing he thought the one he’d chosen for himself led to the lobby and thus the mayor’s office.

He nudged her again and she shook her head, digging in her heels.

This time he pushed her a little harder and whispered, “I’m the one with the gun.”

“Point taken,” she murmured and reluctantly allowed him to follow the more likely route.

She made her way down the hall in her assigned direction, passing offices on both sides. When the corridor took a sharp turn, she emerged into a reception area. Looking around, she spotted the words
MAYOR TODD URICK
stenciled in gold leaf on a large interior window. The blinds were drawn, but light seeped between the slats.

Skye wondered where Wally had ended up. She heard his voice inside her head telling her to wait for him, but she ignored it. What if her hesitation resulted in Spike’s death? She would never forgive herself, or be able to look Bunny or Simon in the eye again.

The whole building had an eerily deserted feeling. Skye shivered, then forced her feet to move forward. She crept toward that office, and as she neared it, she could hear a loud whirring noise and raised voices.

Skye was relieved to see that the door was slightly ajar, which meant it wasn’t locked. Either something had
made Spike nervous or luck was on their side. Skye tiptoed to the gap between the hinge and the door and peered into the office.

Once her eyes adjusted from the dim lobby to the brightly lit room, her gaze swept the area. Spike was handcuffed to the arm of the chrome chair in which she was seated. Duct tape covered her mouth and bound her ankles. A man Skye recognized from the board’s photo as one of the trustees was shoving papers into a shredder and Todd Urick stood a few feet from Spike, pointing a gun in her direction.

The man who was shredding yelled at Urick above the noise, “How did this bitch find out about the money? Did you tell that big-mouth wife of yours?”

The mayor snorted. “She didn’t know anything, Garth. Until you burst in here waving a gun, she was just guessing. She had no proof. I told you on the phone that I had everything under control. All you had to do was to sit tight and keep your cool. I would have taken care of it.”

“Like you took care of that nosy temp worker?” Garth ran his fingers through his thinning blond hair and sneered. “We told you to shut her up, not kill her.”

“If you all hadn’t insisted I give her the hundred thousand from my share, none of this would have happened,” Urick snapped. “I already bought her a new car to keep her quiet. If we’d split the cost of the blackmail, it would only have been twenty grand apiece.”

“No way. We didn’t cause the problem. Why should we pay for it?”

“Then since you caused this problem, you get rid of this chick.” Urick handed the pistol to Garth and pushed him toward Spike.

Skye felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She had to save Spike. Praying that the door wouldn’t squeak, she had just started to ease it open when a hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. Swallowing a scream, she whirled
around. Wally had his finger to his lips. He jerked his head, motioning for her to get behind him.

While Skye was trading places with Wally, Garth said in a wheedling tone, “Look, Todd, you already killed one bitch. What’s one more?”

Wally had his gun out and was poised to rush into the office, but as the men argued, he paused. He was clearly waiting for the best time to intervene.

“And who am I going to convince to confess for this murder?” Urick retorted.

“How did you get that loony guy to say he did the other one?” Garth asked. “You never said.”

“It wasn’t part of my original plan.” Urick leaned his butt on the desktop. Apparently he was a man who loved telling a good story. “I was only going to tell Alexis that blackmailing me was a dangerous way to earn a living, and that if she didn’t stop she might end up dead.”

“Which she did.”

“The bitch laughed in my face when I threatened her.” Urick shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what my next step was going to be, but then she pissed off that cuckoo bird, Jacobsen. So when he attacked her, it came to me.” The mayor snapped his fingers. “Here was my chance to get her out of my hair permanently, and throw the blame on him.”

“But how did you know he wouldn’t have an alibi?” Garth had managed to hand Urick the gun and was surreptitiously backing away from Spike.

“I drugged his soda. I always carry a few roofies in my pocket in case I want to get lucky, and I knew if the crazy guy acted strange, no one would notice.” Urick shook his head. “He barely made it into the basement before passing out.”

“But how did you get him to go to the basement?” Garth asked.

“I didn’t.” Urick’s mirthless laugh was like a seal bark.
“God did. I heard Jacobsen talking to the Man Upstairs whenever he got stressed out, so I figured it was time for the Big Kahuna to answer him. Then all I had to do was have one of the waitresses pass Alexis a message from me that said I’d reconsidered, and the money she had demanded was in the basement utility closet.”

“But, how—”

“Enough,” Urick interrupted his coconspirator. “I’m not conducting a Murder one-oh-one class.”

“So-o-o-rry.” Garth elongated the word like a teenage girl. “Anyway. I’m almost done with the documents. Then I’ll go to the storage facility and move the merchandise while you get rid of Ms. Nosy Reporter.”

“No way.” Urick’s demeanor turned belligerent. “It’s time for you to man up.”

Garth fed the last paper through the shredder. “I don’t know what you mean.” He sidled toward the door, his pear-shaped torso giving him a pregnant silhouette.

“I’m not killing her.” Urick waved the gun toward Spike. “You are.”

“Uh-uh.”

Urick advanced until he was face-to-face with the other man.

Wally put his mouth to Skye’s ear. “I’m going in. Stay here.”

Skye felt Wally tense; then, when Urick tried to shove the gun into Garth’s hand, Wally burst through the door with his weapon leveled and ordered, “Drop the gun and put your hands up.”

Urick hesitated.

“Can you run faster than twelve hundred feet per second?” Wally’s voice was conversational. “Because that’s the average speed of a nine-millimeter bullet.”

Skye held her breath. Was Urick going to refuse? She dug frantically for the fresh can of pepper spray she’d tucked into her purse earlier. Her fingers had just curled
over the cool metal when the mayor grabbed his partner and held his pistol to the other man’s temple.

“I’m leaving here and if you try to stop me, I’ll shoot him,” Urick threatened.

“Fine.” Wally shrugged. “One less criminal the county has to provide an expensive trial for.”

Urick’s shocked expression was almost funny, but Skye wasn’t laughing. She knew Wally would never let the mayor shoot the other man, but what was his plan?

There was no other entrance, so she couldn’t sneak up on the guy. She could phone for help, but as Wally had said, they didn’t know which Viderville authorities they could trust. Should she call the county cops or maybe one of the Scumble River police? Who knew how long it would take either of them to get here? Maybe she was supposed to stop Urick when he came through the door.

Skye caught a glimmer of a movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw that Spike had somehow slipped out of the handcuffs and was tearing at the duct tape binding her ankles. The two criminals had their backs to Spike, and Wally was focused on Urick’s gun. It seemed that no one except Skye had noticed that the young woman was freeing herself.

As Spike ripped the last piece of tape from around her legs, the metal cuffs, which were still attached to the chair’s arm, rattled and Urick’s head whipped toward the noise. At that moment Wally lunged toward the man, grabbed his arm, and wrested the weapon from his hand.

While Wally shoved Urick flat on the floor, Garth made a run for freedom. As he rushed through the door, Skye stepped back, took aim, and, for the second time in two days, emptied a can of pepper spray into the astonished face of a bad guy.

I
t had been a long, hectic week. Skye had had to give two police statements—one concerning the storage auction bullies and the other regarding what she had witnessed in Todd Urick’s office. She had barely seen Wally, who had been inundated with interrogations and paperwork.

Not only did he have to deal with the Scumble River homicide, but he was also a key player in two additional cases—Spike’s abduction, which had become part of Alexis’s murder, and the Viderville corruption mess. As Wally had feared, Chief Eden had been involved in the embezzlement scheme. The Viderville sergeant had been appointed acting chief, and he was leaning heavily on Wally for support and assistance.

In addition to Mayor Urick, Chief Eden, and Garth Anders, the city clerk and the comptroller were also in on the scheme to pilfer the town’s coffers. They all denied that they had any knowledge that Urick had killed Alexis, but the county prosecutor wasn’t buying their claims.

With Wally occupied and her television set broken, Skye spent her evenings making wedding plans. She’d had a stroke of good luck and been able to book an appointment at Á L’Amour Bridal Boutique in Barrington
for Saturday morning at eleven. It was a long trip from Scumble River, but according to Trixie, who had been scouring the Internet, it was
the
place in Illinois to buy a bridal gown.

Because Skye’s superrich cousin Riley was footing the bill for the wedding dress as part of the payment for Skye’s help the previous summer as a wedding planner, Skye was determined to get the dress of her dreams no matter what the cost. After all, her future in-laws were Texas multimillionaires and she didn’t want to embarrass Wally.

Skye had invited Trixie, Loretta, Frannie—whom Skye had asked to be her third bridesmaid—and her mother to accompany her. May’s invitation had come with a caveat—she was not to make any remarks regarding her daughter’s weight, dress size, or other figure flaws.

Thanks to Loretta’s speedy driving, they arrived at the upscale shop nearly a quarter of an hour early. After being shown into a private room and provided with coffee and tea, they were promised that their personal consultant would be with them in a few minutes.

As they sipped their drinks, Trixie and Frannie exchanged meaningful glances until Trixie finally asked Skye, “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about the murder while we wait?” She wrinkled her nose. “Or would you rather not talk about it today?”

“Go ahead.” Skye blew out a breath. She’d been surprised no one had brought up the subject during the hour-long ride to the store.

Most of the story had been on TV, since Spike had been recording everything that happened in the mayor’s office with a lipstick camera that she had rigged so its lens peeked through a flower pin she had on her jacket. But there was a lot that Wally hadn’t shared with the reporter. And only the night before had he given Skye permission to reveal certain details.

“How did Todd Urick convince Elijah that God was telling him what to do?” Trixie asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. “I sure wouldn’t believe something like that without a miracle or two.”

“The messages came by way of Elijah’s cell phone,” Skye explained. “He tended to pray out loud, and Urick overheard him. The mayor then used that information to persuade Elijah that the texts he sent were from God.” She combed her fingers through her hair. “You also have to realize that due to his brain injury, Elijah was much more open to suggestion than the average person.”