Murder of a Sweet Old Lady (15 page)

Vince’s hair salon, Great Expectations, was located in a stand-alone building on one of Scumble River’s busier corners. At twelve-thirty in the afternoon both the streets and the parking lot were empty. Skye grabbed the sack and paper cups from the passenger seat of the Buick, wiggled out of the car, and kicked the door closed with her foot.

As she approached the screen door at the front of the shop she yelled, “Vince, let me in. My hands are full.”

Her brother appeared, clad only in a swimming suit. He held the door open for her and took the drinks from her hands.

“Thanks.” Skye held out the sack to Vince. “Hope you haven’t eaten yet. I brought subs.”

“Nope, I was taking advantage of a lull in the action and doing some tanning.”

“That explains the trunks.” Skye headed toward the back room and Vince followed. “I was afraid they were the new uniform for your salon.”

Vince snorted. “Yeah? Well, how come your hair’s like that?”

The sun had dried her hair into a mass of curls. “I just came from swimming at the recreation club.”

“Oh. I’ll fix it for you before you leave.”

“Thanks.”

They each took a chair next to the shampoo bowls and spread napkins in their laps before opening the sandwiches. They chewed companionably for a while.

“So, who were you with the night before Grandma died?” Skye asked.

Vince choked and gasped for air. After taking a drink from his cup, he finally said, “Damn it, Skye. Isn’t a psychologist supposed to be a little more subtle than that?”

She shrugged. “Probably, but this is the first day of vacation and I’m officially off duty.”

“You might want to go back on duty if you expect to get anything out of our relatives about Grandma’s murder.”

Skye thought for a moment. “You’re right, but that still doesn’t answer my question. Who was she? And does Abby know?”

Vince finished his sub and got up to throw away the debris. He answered with his back to Skye. “Abby and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. She wanted to get married and I wasn’t ready.”

Skye could certainly sympathize with that. “So who’s your alibi?”

“Just someone I met at the gym. It was a one-night thing. I have no plans to see her again.” He looked at Skye and added before she could open her mouth, “And yes, I did use protection.”

 

Skye stood looking out the window at the vehicles filling Grandma Leofanti’s driveway. She wondered how true it was that you could tell a lot about people by what they drove.

She and her parents had come together in their white Oldsmobile, a middle-of-the-road type of car. Her brother Vince’s Jeep was parked next to Aunt Mona’s Lincoln. Those automobiles were so obvious they needed no interpretation.

The twins drove matching TranSport minivans. Again, that selection didn’t take a psychologist to figure out. Their parents, Minnie and Emmett, had come by truck, as had Uncle Dante. But while the Overbys’ pickup was old and showed years of hard work, Dante’s looked as if it had been driven off the showroom floor that morning. Skye wondered how he managed that on the income from a working farm.

Last, just pulling in, was Dante’s son, Hugo. His pearl-colored Infiniti gleamed as he parked it carefully away from the other vehicles and in the shade of the house. Skye felt lust in her heart, knowing she could never afford the thirty-five thousand dollar car her cousin drove so proudly.

The living room was crowded, and being the last to arrive, Hugo squeezed in beside his parents on the sofa. Minnie and Emmett had chosen the matching armchairs, a twin sitting on the floor at each of their feet. Mona and her husband, Neal, were on the love seat, looking too elegant for the surroundings.

Skye managed to avoid speaking to Mona and kept her distance from the couple. She was still too angry about the essay contest to be civil.

Jed, Skye, and Vince sat on chairs they had brought in from the dining room. May was ensconced in Grandma Leofanti’s La-Z-Boy.

Everyone stared at one another. No one seemed to know how to start.

Finally Skye said, “How about if we each take a moment and tell how Grandma was special to us?”

A murmur went through the crowd, but no one responded.

“I’d be glad to go first,” Skye continued.

Ginger leaned forward. “Yes, you always are, glad to be first, I mean.”

Gillian snickered.

“Fine, feel free to go ahead then.” Skye sat back and crossed her arms.

Before Ginger could respond, Dante interjected, “Don’t be asinine, Skye. Let’s just get this over with.” He turned to May. “So, what did Ma want us to do?”

May put on her glasses and leafed through a sheaf of papers. “Well, I’m not even sure if it’s legal or not, but since most of the estate is tied up in the trust, she just wrote me a letter about the other stuff.”

Hugo looked at his father. “Maybe we should talk to our lawyer and see what he says.”

“I thought of that,” May said quickly, “but he costs so much and this is really just about her burial and the disposal of the knickknacks. I guess it depends if we can agree.”

Dante narrowed his eyes. “Go ahead then and tell us what she wanted.”

“First, it seems that she already picked out her casket and prepaid for the funeral at Reid’s. Here’s the contract.” May passed a document to Dante. “She also talked to Father Burns and picked out the readings and such.”

“Well, I wonder why he’s never discussed that with me or Neal?” Mona said. “I am head of the Altar and Rosary Society and Neal is the Grand Knight of the KC.”

“So, it seems the arrangements are already made,” May said. “Unless someone has an objection.” She looked around the room.

Dante glared at Skye. “I should have known you’d manage to get the business for Reid’s.”

“Uncle Dante, Simon doesn’t need our business.” Skye paused and then smiled wickedly. “After all, people are just dying to get in.”

Vince snickered and the twins tsked.

Dante turned red and sputtered. “You . . . you have no respect—”

“As to the car,” May interrupted, “Mom wanted Skye to use it as long as she needed, but when it’s sold the money is to be divided among the great-grandchildren.”

The twins buzzed.

“Okay,” May continued, “now for the personal stuff. Mom wants us to each take what we want and then sell whatever no one claims.”

“What if more than one of us wants something?” Ginger asked.

“She’s thought of that. We’re to draw numbers and keep going around until there’s nothing left that we want.” May held up a bowl filled with slips of paper. “That’s why she requested that the grandchildren not bring their spouses or children.”

“So, whoever gets number one gets first choice?” Gillian rose to her knees.

“Right.” May mixed the chits up with her right hand.

“Who gets to draw first?” Hugo edged forward on his seat.

“Oldest to youngest. Mom had everything figured out.” May brought the dish over to Dante.

She then selected a number herself. After putting it in her pocket, May went over to Minnie. “Your turn.”

Minnie shrank back in her seat. “Let the girls go first.”

“Sorry, but that’s not how Mom wanted it.” May stood firm.

Mona was the last of the children. Hugo was the eldest grandchild, then Vince, then Skye.

“I can never remember. Which twin is older?” May asked.

“I am.” Ginger snatched one of the two remaining slips from the bowl.

To Skye Vince whispered, “Bet that’s the last time she ever admits it.”

May sat back down and glanced around the room. “Who drew number one?”

No one spoke. Everyone rechecked their chit and then looked at one another.

Eventually, Minnie raised her hand. “But I don’t know what I want.”

Ginger and Gillian began whispering furiously to their mother, who looked more bewildered as they spoke. She finally nodded.

“I want the dining room set.” Minnie sank back in her chair like a deflated balloon.

Skye hoped this didn’t bring on another of Minnie’s spells. In the past, in any kind of stressful situation, Minnie would close herself in her bedroom and read cook-books for days on end. She’d come out during the wee hours of the morning and raid the kitchen, then retreat back to the bedroom. She wouldn’t talk to anyone, and an attack could last from two or three days to a week. No one could break her out of one once it started.

“That includes the buffet and china hutch, right?” Ginger hovered over her mother.

Voices flooded the room. When they quieted, May said, “Yes, anything that is a set goes together. We aren’t doing this fork by fork.”

Dante stepped toward May. “What gives you the right to say so?”

“If we’re going by this letter, Mom asked me to settle any disputes.” May looked at Dante without blinking.

He grumbled, but having number two he took the antique sleigh-style bedroom set.

“Three?” May’s eyes searched the assembly.

Gillian flashed her paper triumphantly. “I want Grandma’s good jewelry.”

“There’s only a necklace and earrings. And it isn’t a set. You’ll have to choose one piece.” As Gillian opened her mouth to argue, May continued, “If you argue you automatically have to go last.”

“Fine, I’ll take the emerald earrings.” Gillian stuck out her lip.

Ginger shot Skye a malicious glance. “I have number four. But before we go on, I want to bring something up. Since Skye, as the oldest female grandchild, already got the Leofanti emerald ring, wouldn’t it be fairer for her to go last now?”

“No.” May’s look dared anyone to disagree. “So, what do you want, Ginger?”

“I’ll take the emerald pendant.” Ginger sank back on her heels and whispered to her twin.

“Five?”

“Me, Mom.” Skye turned the paper she had been clutching to face the room. “I’d like the oak table by the window. It was Grandma’s favorite piece. She talked about it a lot when she was telling me the family history.”

Mona was next and she took the silver. Hugo was number seven and wanted the living room set. Vince took the safe, saying he could use it in his shop, and May took the china.

By the conclusion, everyone had four or five things and little was left to be sold.

Besides the table, Skye ended up with an old trunk, an incomplete set of pink crystal wineglasses, and the everyday dishes. No one mentioned Bingo, and she didn’t remind them.

As they all got ready to leave, May cleared her throat. “I have one more announcement.”

They all looked at her expectantly.

“Chief Boyd found the body of Mrs. Jankowski yesterday in the abandoned well out back. With her, they found a pan of brownies, which they believe were poisoned. They were probably responsible for Mom and the housekeeper’s deaths.”

The room was filled with voices asking questions.

May shook her head. “That’s all I know.”

The family broke into clots, hauling away their loot and whispering about May’s announcement.

Skye walked out with her parents and Vince. They were the first to go, leaving the others still picking over the last little items.

As Vince loaded Skye’s table into the Olds, he asked her, “Why didn’t you take one of the more valuable items when it was your turn?”

“Like I said, this was Grandma’s favorite piece.” Skye paused.

“There’s something more,” Vince prodded.

Skye reddened. “Well, not that I believed her, but she used to say it was magical.”

Early To Bed

Skye sat on the closed toilet seat and watched her mother put on makeup at the counter.
Saturday night and nothing to do. Even my parents have plans. My life sucks.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go tonight. Mom only died a few days ago and it feels sort of funny to be going out.”

“The Grandma I knew wouldn’t want you to sit at home and cry. She’d be the first one to arrive at the party and the last to leave.”

Tears ran down May’s cheek. “You’re probably right, but I sure do miss her. I find myself holding the phone and dialing her number before I remember she’s gone.”

“Our after-school visits meant a lot to me.” Skye handed her mother a tissue. “More than I realized at the time. She was quite a ‘high-spirited’ young lady, as they used to say. I kind of got the feeling her family married her off to Grandpa to calm her down.”

May blotted her eyes and blew her nose. “She never would talk about that with me. She wouldn’t even tell me how Dad proposed or about their first date.”

“Grandma said that the marriage had been arranged after her original fiancé died.”

“I never knew that.” May wiped away another tear. “Will you write all this down so you don’t forget?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I taped all our conversations.”

“Good.” May took a deep breath and turned back to the mirror. After a few seconds, she held out two containers of eyeshadow. “Which do you think would look better with my dress?”

“You’re wearing the taupe silk?” Skye studied the palettes. “Go with the shades of wine; I think the brown would wash you out.”

Nodding, May began the delicate operation of applying the color to the crease of her eyelid. “You sure you don’t want to go to the wedding reception with us?”

“Mom, I wasn’t invited, remember?” Skye studied her mother’s handiwork.

“They probably forgot you were back in town.” May clicked the case shut and reached for her mascara. “You really don’t need an invitation. The announcement in the paper said all friends and relatives were welcome. It’s not like it’s a sit-down dinner.”

“No, I barely remember these people. Who are they again?”

“They’re your dad’s second cousins.” May carefully colored her lips. “What will you do while we’re gone? I don’t like the thought of you moping around here by yourself.”