Murder of a Royal Pain (6 page)

Huh?
Why did her mom think she knew that? Skye opened her mouth, then decided it was better not to prolong this conversation. If she responded, her mom would want to know what tasks Skye had accomplished that day. Merely doing her job at school would not be counted as enough of an achievement.

Hastily changing the subject, Skye asked, “What are we having?”

“Roast beef, green bean casserole, Grandma Denison’s Parker House rolls, mashed potatoes, and Waldorf salad.”

Yum.
She had picked a good night to stop by. The menu sounded more like Sunday dinner than Friday supper. “Grandma shouldn’t still be making rolls from scratch at eighty-five,” Skye said. “It’s too much for her. I thought she was going to stop.”

May dried her hands and gave Skye a pointed look. “Hard work is good for you.”

Skye was saved from responding when her father walked into the utility room. She turned to greet him. “Hi, Dad. Finished with the grass?” A silly question, since he wouldn’t have quit until he was through, but a good way to change the subject.

“Yep.” Jed hitched up his jeans, which hung low to accommodate his belly. “Supper ready, Ma?”

“In half an hour.” May stopped stirring the gravy, and ordered, “You’d better get showered and changed. We’ve got company tonight.”

Jed’s navy T-shirt was sweat-soaked and torn, evidence of his hard work. “Skye’s not company,” he protested.

Not wanting to get involved with her parents’ squabble, Skye looked for something to do. She moved the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin holder from the counter to the table, then opened the cupboard to the left of the sink. Although the plates, glasses, and flatware were where they’d been for as long as she could remember, they were all new, the old ones having been sold in the summer garage sale during May’s recent redecoration binge.

Skye had taken three dishes from the shelf and started to move toward the table when May said, “Aren’t you staying for supper?”

“Huh?”

“You only have three plates.” May held up four fingers. “There are four of us.”

“Four? I thought Vince had a date.”

“No. It’s just you, me, Dad, and Jackie.” May rolled her eyes. “Don’t you remember?”

“What?”
Crap!
Jackie was just the person Skye didn’t want to see. “How could I remember something I didn’t know?”

“But then, why are you here?”

“I stopped by to visit. You and Dad are leaving for Las Vegas in a couple of weeks, and I wanted to make sure I saw you before you left.”

“But I told Jackie to tell you about supper tonight.” May wrinkled her brow. “Didn’t you see her today?”

“Yes, but, uh . . .” Skye didn’t want to tell her mother about the argument she’d had with her colleague, so she hedged. “We had a lot to talk about; then she had to leave for another school. She must have forgotten to tell me.”

“Well, you’re here.” May nodded, appearing satisfied with Skye’s explanation. “No harm, no foul.”

“Right.” Skye frowned. Except she was now forced to spend an evening with someone she preferred to avoid. “So, how did you meet Jackie?”

“In the grocery store yesterday. She asked me to help her find something and we got to talking.” May turned back to the stove—gravy needed constant stirring or it became lumpy. “She was so sweet. She hung on my every word; then she mentioned that you and she were friends, so I thought it would be nice to have her for a home-cooked meal.”

Why had Jackie been in the grocery store? If she was living at the motor court, she didn’t have a kitchen. She must have been picking up some snacks and soda. The vending machines at Charlie’s would get expensive fast.

“She should be here soon.” May’s voice interrupted Skye’s thoughts. “Go ahead and set the table for four.” May lowered the flame on the burner, then added, “Make sure you put out the real butter for Dad. He won’t touch that Country Crock Light I use for my cholesterol.” May paused and gave Skye another sharp look. “But you’d better use the fake stuff. It looks like you’re gaining weight again.”

Was she? Skye looked down. She couldn’t tell. She refused to weigh herself constantly and worry about every pound, but she hadn’t been swimming every day as she should, and she had stuffed herself with those cookies a few hours ago at school. She guessed it was time to get back into the pool.

 

“You should have seen it. Mom did everything but spoonfeed Jackie, and Dad actually talked. She got him to tell stories from the four years he spent in the navy right after high school. He even made a joke. He said he had a commanding officer whose baler had run out of twine.”

It was late Saturday afternoon, and Skye was on the telephone with her brother. Vince had just closed up the hair salon he owned. “Well, isn’t that what a social worker is trained to do, get people to talk?” Vince asked. “And Mom feeds everyone.”

“Yes, she cooks and puts the food in front of you, but she doesn’t fork it into your mouth.”

“She did that?”

“Well . . . not exactly, but almost,” Skye admitted. “She put the cream and sugar in her coffee for her, though.”

“You sound jealous.” Vince chuckled. “Aren’t you happy to have someone to divert Mom’s attention from you for a while?”

“Yeah, but . . .” But what? Maybe she was overreacting. Time to change the subject. “So what are you and Loretta doing tonight?” Vince was dating Skye’s sorority sister, Loretta Steiner.

“Nothing.” His tone was unhappy. “She said she was going to District Days this weekend. You were an Alpha Sigma Alpha, too. Why aren’t you going?”

“It must have something to do with the alumni group Loretta belongs to in Naperville. There isn’t one close enough for me to join.”

“Oh.” Vince paused. “But you’ve heard of this weekend thing?”

“I probably read about it in the sorority magazine, but I don’t remember. Do you want me to check the back copies?”

“No.” He sighed. “I guess not, but it seems like she’s awfully busy lately.”

“Now who’s jealous?” Skye teased.

“Hey. You know I’m not the jealous type.” Vince’s voice held a forced casualness. “I’m only saying she should have asked you to go with her.”

“I’ll have to talk to her about that.” Skye was glad Vince couldn’t see her grin. It looked as if her big brother might finally be serious about a woman. Maybe May would hear wedding bells soon after all. Skye’s smile widened. And if Vince got married, maybe her mother would get off her back. “I’ve got to go. Wally’s picking me up at six. We’re going to Joliet to see
The Forgotten
at the Cinemark, then eating at Merichka’s.”

“I can taste their poor-boys now.” Vince smacked his lips. “I love how the garlic butter runs down your hands when you bite into one.”

“I love their double-baked potatoes. I think they’re the best I ever tasted.”

“Mmm.”

They both were silent a moment; then Skye said, “Well, I really do have to go. I haven’t even showered yet.”

“You could wait and invite Wally to join you.”

“Men. You all think alike.” Skye giggled and hung up the phone.

Her conversation with Vince had cheered Skye up, and she found herself singing while she got ready. She loved this time of year. Fall clothes were the best. The restaurant they were going to wasn’t dressy, so she put on brown jeans, a leopard-print blouse, and a gold suede jacket.

She was zipping up brown leather ankle boots when the doorbell rang. After taking one last look in the mirror, she added a pair of dangly citrine earrings and ran down the stairs.

When she opened the door, Wally stepped inside, swung her into his arms, and kissed her until she was breathless. As they moved farther into the foyer, Skye froze. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” He lifted his head from her neck.

“I thought I heard the back door. It has an annoying squeak I keep meaning to oil.”

“I didn’t hear anything. Isn’t it locked?”

“Yes.” Skye moved out of his arms and headed toward the kitchen. “I thought so, but I’d better check.”

“Wait a minute.” He caught up with her and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Let me go first.” He reached down and pulled the gun from his ankle holster.

Skye frowned, then shrugged and stepped out of his way. His urge to protect her was a cop instinct, not a chauvinistic impulse.

When they got to the back door, it was closed. The thumb lock was engaged, but not the dead bolt. It was Wally’s turn to frown. He turned the key that was in the dead bolt and handed it to her. “You need to keep both of these locked and the key somewhere else.”

“I do. I mean, I keep them locked.” Skye chewed her lip. “I don’t go out this door very often—it’s easier to go out the front to get to the garage. I’m sure I locked it the last time I went out this way.”

“Well, it’s locked now.” Wally bent and petted the black cat rubbing against his shins. “Does Bingo have a secret life outdoors?”

“Right. I can just see him as the leader of a gang of cat burglars. What would they steal? Cans of Fancy Feast and pots of catnip?” Skye snickered. “Maybe it’s the ghost trying to keep us apart again.” She and Wally had just about given up trying to spend any time at Skye’s house—although Wally wouldn’t admit it had anything to do with the supernatural. His excuse was that his place was more comfortable.

But whether he believed Skye’s house was possessed or not, it seemed that whenever they started to get intimate, some weird occurrence would interrupt them. Secretly—Skye had never shared this thought with anyone—she suspected the ghost of the previous owner, from whom Skye had inherited the house, was behind the mischief.

Skye had met Alma Griggs a little over a year ago. A widow who had lost her only child in a car accident, Mrs. Griggs had convinced herself that Skye was the reincarnation of her daughter. And Skye was pretty sure that Mrs. Griggs didn’t want Wally around.

Whether the deceased owner was trying to keep all men away from Skye or only Wally was unclear, since Skye had broken up with her previous boyfriend, Simon, before taking ownership of Mrs. Griggs’s eerie home.

Wally broke into her thoughts. “You don’t really believe in ghosts, do you?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, not sure what she thought. “Bizarre stuff does seem to happen to us a lot here.”

“Hey, I just thought of something. It was probably your mom. She likes to drop by and clean, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’s been here lately, at least not that I noticed.” Skye looked around the kitchen. “Although I guess she could have been here. She does tend to clean things that already look fine to me.”

“That’s it. I’ll bet it was May, and she opened the door to shake some rugs or something and didn’t reengage the dead bolt when she came back in.”

“You could be right.” Skye followed him back to the foyer. Unless it was Mrs. Griggs’s ghost, May was a reasonable guess. Besides, who else could it be?

A
s usual, I-55 was under construction, causing random lane closures and unexpected braking. Skye sneaked a peek at Wally’s profile, and noted that he was fully focused on the highway. Normally she would keep quiet, not wanting to distract him from the hazardous conditions, but this might be the perfect moment to tell him about her flat.

That morning when she had gotten her tire fixed, the repair shop had confirmed that it had been slashed. If she told Wally now, while he was concentrating on the traffic, he was less apt to fuss about her safety and Kurt’s role in helping her.

Wally was usually easygoing, but every once in a while a teeny streak of jealousy surfaced, and Skye had a feeling that Kurt Michaels might bring it out. Or maybe she felt a tad guilty for enjoying Kurt’s attentions.

It was possible Wally hadn’t met Kurt yet, and didn’t know how handsome and charming he was, but the likelihood of that in a town as small as Scumble River was practically nil.

How could she bring up the flat without setting off any alarms? She needed a good segue. Turning slightly so she could watch Wally’s body language, Skye said casually, “How have things been at the PD lately?”

“Pretty quiet.”

“That’s good.”

“How about school?” he asked without taking his gaze from the road.

“The usual.”

“How’s the new social worker working out?” Wally concentrated on passing a semi, then added, “What did you say her name was?”

“Jackie Jennings. Haven’t you met her yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Then you’re the only one.” Skye tried to keep the rancor out of her voice.

“Is there a problem with her?”

“She seems really eager to fit in and do a good job.” Skye clenched her teeth. “She’s even teaching the computer class the student newspaper is funding.”

“I bet Justin is pleased.”

“Yes. They seem to be getting along very well.” Skye pulled her seat belt away from her neck. It felt as if it were choking her.

“That’s great. It’s nice to see him doing better with adults.”

“Yeah. It’s great.”

Wally glanced at Skye. “You okay?”

“I guess.” She sighed. “I need to adjust to her being there. I was basically doing her job as well as mine for the past four years.”

“I’m sure it feels weird to have someone doing the stuff that you’re used to doing.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “In a month or so you’ll be thrilled to have the help.”

“Probably.” Skye stared out the windshield, then said as nonchalantly as she could manage, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you—I had a flat yesterday after school.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come over and fixed it for you. Did you forget your cell phone again?”

“I had my cell, but I didn’t want to bother you while you were on duty.” Skye wrinkled her nose at him. “Besides, I know how to change a tire.”