Murder of a Bookstore Babe (15 page)

“What did they do before?” Skye asked. Risé had mentioned her husband’s prior occupation but not what she had done. “I thought Orlando was a book scout, which should be pretty harmless.”

“Maybe.” Pru twitched her shoulders. “But
she
was some hotshot executive.”

“I wonder why she’d give that up,” Skye mused. “Her salary had to be a lot more than the money they can make from the store, and she’s got to be within five or six years of retirement age.”

“Exactly.” Pru’s tone was predatory. “They’re hiding something, and I won’t rest until I find out what.”

 

“So then, after I jogged out of her sight, I went and told Trixie she didn’t have to try to dig up any dirt on Pru after all.” Skye was sitting with Wally in the hall outside of Father Burns’s office at the rectory. “She seemed almost disappointed.”

They were waiting for the priest to arrive for their late Monday afternoon appointment to discuss Wally’s annulment. They’d met with him briefly once before and had been given paperwork to complete, but today he was going to discuss the entire process with them.

“That sounds like Trixie. She likes a good fight.” Wally chuckled, then asked, “What did Homer say when you told him?”

“He agreed that although Pru might still be harassing the bookstore, it didn’t sound as if she was going to pursue the petition angle.”

“I’ll bet he was relieved.”

“You sure couldn’t prove that by me.” Skye made a wry face. “He just grunted, told me to get back to work, then picked up the phone and ordered his secretary to get his wife on the line and cancel their trip.”

“Homer sounds like our mayor.” Wally ran his thumb down Skye’s cheek. “Your uncle isn’t too happy that we have another murder. The city’s in negotiations with new businesses for several of those empty storefronts on the same part of the street as Tales and Treats.”

“I wonder if Hugo knows that.” Skye leaned her head on Wally’s shoulder. She was so tired. She hadn’t slept well last night, and the stress of the last couple of days was catching up with her. “I just told you my cousin and Risé are in a big fight over parking spaces.”

Skye had been unable to reach Wally all day, so she was using this time to fill him in on what she’d forgotten to tell him the previous evening.

“Right.” Wally put an arm around her. “You mentioned she had disagreements with Flip and Kevin, too. I’d say it was odd that so many of your family members are somehow involved with that woman, except that you’re related to half the town.”

“Maybe more. Mom keeps coming up with new branches on the family tree.” Skye nestled closer. “It’s a good thing it was a burglary. If Risé was the intended victim without any other motive, a lot of my relatives would be suspects.”

“It’s pretty amazing that Risé has managed to tick off so many people in such a short time,” Wally commented.

Before Skye could respond, Father Burns walked in the front door and ushered them into his office. He was a tall, ascetic-looking man who had been the priest at St. Francis, the Scumble River Catholic church, for as long as Skye could remember. He had to be close to sixty, but he had an ageless face and a gaunt body that hid his age.

Once Skye and Wally were seated on the leather wingchairs facing Father Burns at his desk, the priest said, “As I warned you the first time we spoke, the annulment process isn’t usually smooth or quick, and I’m sorry to tell you, yours seems to have already hit a snag.”

“Oh?” Wally tensed.

“What’s the problem, Father?” Skye took Wally’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m afraid the address you furnished for your ex-wife isn’t any good.” He looked at them to see whether they understood the gravity of the situation. “Although declaration of nullity is still possible, without her input, the proceedings will be even more drawn out.”

“In other words”—Wally narrowed his eyes—“it would be best if I found her?”

“It would speed things up. Her involvement isn’t essential, but the Church does like to give both parties an opportunity to present their views of the marriage.” Father Burns sat motionlessly. “How long has it been since you’ve had contact with her?”

“A couple of years.” Wally’s hand tightened on Skye’s. “Since we didn’t have children, and the prenup she signed precluded her from claiming any of my assets or asking for alimony, or whatever it’s called nowadays, there was no need to keep in touch.”

“Fortunately, your line of work should assist you in locating her.” Father Burns smiled. “I’m sure God will guide you in your search.”

“Thank you, Father.” Skye was afraid this setback would cause Wally to try to persuade her to marry him without the process, so she asked, “Could you explain to us why the Church requires an annulment?”

“The Church’s stance is that matrimony is lifelong.” His dark, serious eyes studied them for a long moment; then he continued. “The annulment procedure is used to determine if an essential element, which prevented the sacramental union promised, was missing when the couple entered into the marriage.”

“And what are those elements?” Wally asked, glancing at Skye to see whether she knew.

“The most common is insufficiency or inadequacy of judgment,” the priest explained. “There is also psychological incapacity, and absence of proper intention to have children, be faithful, or remain together until death.”

“Since Darleen left me for another man, we should have that last one covered,” Wally said drily. “Not to mention her psychological problems, which I found out about during the divorce.”

“That will help.” Father Burns looked down at the rosary in his hands. “But the real question is, can you honestly state that you knew there was something missing, something radically wrong, right from the start? Did you have second thoughts prior to the nuptials or have serious difficulties in the early years of the marriage?”

Wally didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I knew I didn’t feel the way toward Darleen that I had toward someone previously.” He gazed into Skye’s eyes. “I wanted to back out of the wedding the night before, but I couldn’t humiliate Darleen in front of all her family and friends.” He stared at the priest. “We fought almost from the first day of our marriage. We were never a team.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Father Burns’s voice was gentle. “However, it will help your case.”

“But I should still locate Darleen.” A flicker of impatience crossed Wally’s eyes, but his voice was unruffled. “Right?”

“It would help.” A corner of the priest’s lips turned up.

“Even though Darleen and I weren’t married in a church and I’m not Catholic?” Wally wrinkled his brow.

“Yes,” Father Burns answered. “The Catholic Church views all marriages with respect and presumes that they are valid and binding. Consequently, it requires even non-Catholics to have any previous marriage annulled.”

Wally’s expression was skeptical.

“I understand that this must seem like a lot of nonsense, but without it your marriage to Skye will not be valid in the eyes of the Church. And I know Skye well enough to say without a doubt that this will trouble her greatly, now and in the future. For you to do this is a great act of self-giving love.”

Both men turned to Skye, and she nodded.

“I’ve waited a long time for her.” Wally gave Skye a loving look. “If this is what it takes to make her happy, I can wait a little longer.”

“Thank you.” Skye caught her breath at the raw emotion in his voice.

Wally squeezed her hand, then asked the priest, “Is there anything we can do in the meantime?”

“Make sure the people you’ve chosen who are familiar with your marriage to Darleen have filled out and returned the questionnaire you gave them.” Father Burns rose from his chair and ushered them to the door.

“I’m sure praying wouldn’t hurt,” Wally teased gently.

“True.” The priest nodded. “But God has three answers to your prayers, and people generally like only the first one, which is ‘yes.’ The other two—‘not yet’ and ‘I have something better in mind’—take a little more faith.”

“They certainly do,” Skye murmured.

“Just remember, the nicest thing about the future is that it always starts tomorrow.”

As they walked out to the parking lot, Skye asked Wally, “Was what you said about knowing you didn’t feel the way toward Darleen that you felt toward someone else, and wanting to back out of the wedding, true?” All that he’d told her previously was that his and Darleen’s marriage had been rocky from the start.

He stopped. “Every word.” Tugging her under a huge old oak tree that hadn’t started losing its leaves yet, he pulled her to him.

As she gazed into his warm brown eyes, Skye saw the heartrending tenderness of his gaze, and a tiny part of her blew out a sigh of relief. She had always wondered what he felt for Darleen and whether she had been his true soul mate.

“And was that person you felt more for . . . Was that me?” Skye slipped her arms between his jacket and shirt, caressing the planes of his back.

“Yes, it was you,” he whispered. “It’s always been you, since I first saw you.”

His breath was warm against her face, and her heart raced. “Is it awful of me to be glad?”

“No.” His lips brushed against hers. “Not if you love me as much as I love you.”

“Once I turned eighteen, I always wondered if you’d ask me out sometime.” She could feel the heat of his body pressed against the length of hers.

“I was twenty-four years old and you were still in high school. It wouldn’t have been right.” He rained tiny kisses all over her face. “Then after you went to college, you rarely came home.”

“A huge mistake on my part.” She raised herself on tiptoe, cradled his cheeks between her two hands, and pressed her mouth to his.

Wally gathered her closer, and his tongue stroked the soft fullness of her lips.

Skye shivered in delight, and at first she didn’t hear the sound of a throat clearing. Then abruptly she stiffened and stepped out of Wally’s embrace. He gave her a puzzled look, then blew out a sigh of resignation.

Officer Zelda Martinez stood a few feet away, her olive completion a dusty pink. “I’m sorry to bother you, Chief, but you’ve got your cell switched off and we’ve had a break in the case.”

“A
t approximately four forty-five p.m.,a Ms.Judy Martin, who claimed to be the director of the Scumble River Public Library, phoned the PD.” Zelda stood at attention and focused her gaze over Wally’s right shoulder. “Ms. Martin stated that she had important information regarding the Tales and Treats burglary but refused to give the dispatcher any details and insisted on speaking directly to the chief.”

“And when she was told I was unavailable?” Wally asked when Zelda didn’t continue.

“Ms. Martin declared that she would wait for you at the library.”

“Thank you.” Wally nodded, dismissing the officer. Once Zelda was gone, he said to Skye, “This has got to be about the stolen books. We sent out a list to other rare-book dealers in a three-hundred-mile radius and to Internet brokers, but why would a librarian be involved?”

“I don’t have a clue.” Skye put both hands up in a “who knows?” gesture. “But Judy isn’t prone to exaggeration or drama.” As a frequent patron of the library, Skye knew the librarian well. “If she says her info is important, I’d bet it is.”

“Then we best get over there and hear what she has to say.”

Since Skye and Wally had each driven from work directly to the rectory, she followed him in her own car. The library was on the second floor of city hall, in the same building as the PD. So while Skye drove around to park in the public lot, Wally pulled his squad car into the garage.

They met at the entrance and climbed the stairs together. It was almost five thirty, a half hour after the library was supposed to close, but the door was unlocked. Skye and Wally stood at the chest-high counter and looked around. There was no sign of Judy.

The library was divided into two main rooms, both of which were jam-packed with shelves. There were a few wooden chairs and a couple of study carols, but the rest of the space was crammed with books and magazines. A small office was wedged into a corner.

“Anybody here?” Wally raised his voice. “Ms. Martin, it’s Chief Boyd.”

There was no answer.

The town had needed a bigger library for years, but somehow the funds never materialized. Lack of resources also meant limited hours. Currently, on the weekend the library was open only from ten to four on Saturday and noon to three on Sunday. Judy and two high school students on a work-study plan were the sole employees, although the Friends of the Library provided a couple of volunteers.

“I’ll check the office,” Skye offered.

“Good. I’ll see if she’s anywhere among the shelves.” Wally headed into the other room.

Skye walked over to the tiny cube and stuck her head inside. It was empty. As she returned to the circulation counter, she noted how threadbare and depressing the surroundings were. With most of the budget reserved for acquisitions, the paint on the walls had faded to a sickly goldenrod, and the carpet was somewhere between a tumbleweed tan and mouse-droppings brown.

Someone, presumably Judy, had attempted to brighten the space by adding lacy green plants to the tops of the shelves and hanging colorful mobiles from the ceiling. But they just added to the clutter and highlighted the shabbiness.

Skye and Wally met back at the entrance, and he said, “No sign of her among the shelves.”

“She wasn’t in her office either.” Skye felt a prickle of concern. “I hope nothing’s happened to her. If she had some knowledge of the crime, and the criminal found out, maybe he kidnap—”

“We don’t even know what she wanted to tell me,” Wally cut her off. “Let’s not borrow trouble.”

“I’m not.” Skye’s voice had an edge to it. “But she specifically said she would wait for you here, so where is she?”