Murder of a Sweet Old Lady (29 page)

“Really? When did the rec club start that?”

Victoria laughed. “Not the rec club, the country club in Kankakee.”

Ginger frowned. “Wow, that must cost a pretty penny. How long have you and Hugo belonged?”

“Since just after we were married. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Gillian finished off her fifth mimosa. “Hugo must do pretty well selling cars. Or have you taken a job, Victoria?”

Victoria drained her glass. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

As she refilled everyone’s drink, Skye wondered if she would have to drive them all home. “Where are you working, Victoria?”

“That’s the wonderful thing about this job and really the only reason I agreed to take it, even though he begged me to.”

Skye put steaming pieces of quiche on everyone’s plate. “Don’t keep us in suspense. Tell us about this wonderful position.”

“I’m going to be the hostess for the new Castleview housing development.” Victoria stuck out her hand. “Mr. Castleview gave me this ring as a welcome aboard present.” She indicated the ruby Skye had noticed at her grandmother’s wake.

“The one over by the McDonald’s?” Ginger took a bite of her quiche.

“No, the brand new one. The one he’s going to build.” Victoria dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

“Where’s that one going to be?” Skye sat down to eat her own meal.

Victoria giggled. “I’m not allowed to tell.”

Skye raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment and they each dug into their food. No one spoke until they’d finished.

Finally, her words slurred, Ginger said, “What’s the big secret?”

They all looked at Victoria, who gazed back with a puzzled expression.

Skye rose and cleared the table. She came back with the lemon silk sherbet and dream bars. Conversation was suspended once again while Skye served dessert.

When she finished she took her place next to Victoria and patted her hand. “Victoria, we want to know why you can’t tell us the location of Castleview’s next housing development.”

“ ’Cause I’m not supposed to tell.”

“Why?”

Her brows drew together and she nibbled on a thumb-nail. “I’m not sure, but Hugo and Mr. Castleview said not to, and you can’t make me.”

Seven, Eight, It’s Too Late

It was nearly five o’clock by the time Skye finished driving her tipsy cousins home and helping their husbands fetch the cars in which they had arrived. She couldn’t stop wondering just where the new Castleview development was going to be. Hugo had refused to comment, saying that Victoria tended to imagine things.

Skye had released Bingo from his confinement, cleared the great room, and was up to her elbows in soapy water when her phone rang.

After wiping her hands off with the kitchen towel, she grabbed the receiver. “Hello.”

“What took you so long to answer?” the voice at the other end demanded.

“Who is this?” Skye asked.

“It’s Aunt Mona.”

“Oh, hi. Is everything okay?”

Mona’s tone changed. “Everything is fine. I know it’s short notice, but Uncle Neal and I were wondering if you could come to dinner tomorrow night. We really haven’t had a chance to chat since you’ve been home.”

Dinner with her Aunt Mona and Uncle Neal—there was an appealing scenario. But it was a chance to ask them some questions about Grandma.

“Gee, Aunt Mona, that would be lovely. Can I bring anything?” Skye cradled the handset and went back to washing dishes.

“No, we’re just having a simple meal. How’s six o’clock for you?”

“Fine. You sure I can’t bring anything?”

“No, just yourself. We’ll see you at six then. Bye.”

There was something odd about the conversation. What was wrong with that picture?

Skye finished up at the sink and dried the counter with the towel. She glanced at the clock, and noticed she had less than fifteen minutes to freshen up and drive to Trixie’s.

Settling for a quick brush of her hair and some lipstick, Skye made it to her friend’s house with a minute to spare. Trixie was waiting on the front steps, and hopped into the car before it finished gliding to a stop.

Trixie and Skye talked about the brunch and what Victoria had revealed until they reached the drugstore.

“What’s your cousin’s name?” Skye asked as she pushed open the glass door.

The sleigh bells that warned the pharmacist of incoming customers almost drowned out Trixie’s answer. “Amy.”

A young woman in her late teens stood behind the drug counter in the back of the store. She waved at Trixie, who took Skye’s arm and guided her down the aisle.

“Good timing. Mr. Bates just left and there’s no one in the store.” Amy smiled at Trixie.

“This is my friend Skye. Skye, this is my cousin Amy,” Trixie said while fingering the products on the counter.

Skye held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Amy. I really appreciate this.”

Amy took three of Skye’s fingers for a brief shake. “No problem. Trixie explained everything.” Skye hated it when women didn’t know how to properly shake hands, but she swallowed the temptation to teach Amy the correct form and instead said, “My aunt’s name is Minnie Overby. Can you see if she filled a prescription for any type of tranquilizer or sleeping pill within the last month or so?”

“Easy as pie, now that we’re finally using the computer.” Amy tapped a few keys and waited.

Skye held her breath.

“No, no medication of any kind for Minnie Overby within the last six months.” Amy patted the machine. “That’s as far back as the records go.”

“Thanks.” That had been a waste. What did it prove? Nothing, except Minnie didn’t get her prescription filled in town. Skye’s shoulders drooped.

Suddenly she straightened. “Would you mind checking one more name for me?”

“Not at all.”

“Try the last name Leofanti and see what you get.” Skye wasn’t sure what she expected to find.

After a minute or two, Amy looked up from the screen. “I’ve got lots of Leofantis but only one with a tranq or sleeping pill.”

“Who?” Skye tried to see the monitor.

“Just an initial.” Amy frowned. “That’s unusual. We’re not supposed to accept anything but full names. No initials, no nicknames.”

“What letter?” Skye tried to keep the impatience from her voice.

“That explains it.” Amy went on as if she didn’t hear Skye. “This was filled on a day I was out sick, and Mr. Bates’s mother helped out.”

Trixie broke in. “Amy, honey, we’re dying of curiosity. What is the initial?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s M.”

 

Skye turned onto her back, trying desperately to fall asleep, but disturbing thoughts kept drifting through her subconscious. Was M. Leofanti the same as Minnie Overby? Where was Castleview building his next development, which was such a secret? What was she going to tell the superintendent?

When her alarm went off, Skye gratefully climbed out of bed and into the shower. She mentally reviewed her wardrobe. What was the appropriate clothing in which to be fired?

She finally threw on a pair of white slacks, striped T-shirt, and a navy blazer. After preparing breakfast for Bingo and herself, she grabbed the atlas and wrote out the directions to Miss Prynn’s while she drank her tea. Skye felt a little uneasy to be going there alone, but she could think of no one else who was available. Simon was certainly out of the question. A sense of loss suddenly nipped through her. Fighting that feeling, she forced herself to move from the table and prepare to leave.

The stack of tens and twenties made only a small bulge in the envelope Skye had tucked them in, but between this money and the check for Victoria’s ruined dress, her budget was destroyed for the summer.

It was nearly ten by the time Skye turned onto Avenue D. Narrowing her eyes against the glare, she carefully read the numbers. As she neared Miss Prynn’s house, she noticed a police car parked in front.

Skye pulled the Buick a few spaces behind the squad car and hurried up the steps.

Before she could ring the bell, a young police officer thrust open the door. “What’s your business here?”

“It’s about my aunt,” Skye answered without thinking and then could have bitten her tongue.

“You’re her niece?”

Skye was confused, but had a feeling if she said no, that would be the end of the conversation. The only reason the police would be answering Miss Prynn’s door was if something was terribly wrong. “Yes, her niece.”

The officer opened the door wider and gestured Skye inside. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that your aunt passed away sometime between noon yesterday and eight this morning. A friend who dropped her off from church stopped this morning to return a handkerchief that had been left in her car and found Miss Prynn dead. We’ve been looking for next of kin.”

“But Mi . . . Aunt Esther hadn’t been ill. Do you know the cause of death?” She could feel her heart accelerating. This whole thing reminded Skye of her grandmother’s murder.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to discuss that, ma’am. Ah . . . let me ask Officer Spratt.” He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his belt. “He’s checking with the neighbors.”

She looked at the officer a little more closely. There was something odd about his attire. For one thing he didn’t seem to have a gun. “Are you a Chicago policeman? Your uniform looks different.”

His face reddened. “Well, ah, no. I’m a citizen volunteer. But I’ll be going to the academy as soon as I pass the test.”

Skye thought fast. If she handled this the right way she could get information the police would never share with her. “How wonderful,” she gushed. “That’s just what our city needs, more officers like you. Maybe then I’ll feel safe walking down the streets again.”

His chest puffed out. “No need to worry once I’m on duty, ma’am.”

“You’re so brave.” She forced out a tear. “I’m so upset about my aunt’s death. I feel like it must be my fault for not taking better care of her. But I saw her on Saturday and she looked healthy. How did you say she died?” Skye held her breath, wondering if he’d fall for it.

“She was found in the bathroom. She must have had a bad case of the flu.” Color crept up from his collar. “You know, lots of older people die that way. There’s nothing you could have done, ma’am.”

It was obvious the young man was waiting for her to speak. “How terrible.” She forced out a few more tears. “Would it be all right if I made a call?”

He frowned and she hurried to explain. “To my grandmother, Aunt Esther’s sister.”

“Sorry, the phone’s not working. It looks like maybe she tripped and yanked the jack from the wall. Would you like to come to the station to make the call?”

“Could I take a quick look around? Aunt Esther was getting some . . . ah . . . family papers together for me and I really need them right away.” Skye couldn’t believe she was this calm and thinking so clearly.

“Well, I shouldn’t . . .”

Skye moved closer and looked at him through her eyelashes. “I understand. You don’t really have the authority to make decisions . . . it’s just that I need those papers for a scholarship. If I don’t turn in my application by tomorrow I’ll lose my chance.”

“Oh . . . go ahead. As long as I see whatever you want to remove.”

She smiled gratefully and headed to the room Miss Prynn had indicated yesterday was where she kept her records. Several rows of filing cabinets lined the wall of what was intended to be a bedroom. A cursory glance told Skye that the system appeared to be alphabetical. She went straight to the L’s. The drawers weren’t locked and the files were all neatly arranged.

Skye took a tissue from her pocket and used it to rifle past Leanardo, Lemons, and stop at Levins. Where was Leofanti? She quickly checked for a misfile but found nothing. Taking a breath, she looked once again, this time noticing an empty hanging file where Leofanti would go.

Did that mean Miss Prynn had been murdered? But by whom? Simon and Doc Zello were the only ones who knew of Skye’s interest in finding her. Did Doc have something to hide? Skye shook her head. No, that was silly. He wouldn’t have given out her address. And Simon had no motive at all.

The officer was clearing his throat and Skye swiftly closed the drawer and joined him in the living room. “Guess she didn’t have a chance to get what I needed together. I don’t suppose I could look around for the papers.”

The young man shook his head. “Sorry, we have to go to the station now.”

“Thanks anyway.”

“Sorry. Do you want to follow me to the station or would you rather ride along with me? I’ll make sure you get a lift back to your car.”

“I’ll follow you.” Skye hoped she could slip away without his noticing. “But give me the address just in case we get separated.”

He took out his card and jotted the information on the back. “I’ve got to lock up. I’ll meet you by the steps.”

Skye waited for the officer to turn away from the front door. She ran to her car, dove inside, and made an illegal U-turn. Taking a right at the next corner, she prayed the young man hadn’t noticed the make and license plate of her vehicle.

 

As soon as Skye was sure she wasn’t being followed, she stopped at the first working public phone. Using the card the police officer had given her, she placed an anonymous call telling him to look for jatropha curcas poisoning in Miss Prynn’s death.

It took her a long time to drive back to Scumble River. She’d gotten thoroughly lost trying to escape from the police. When she glanced at her watch as she pulled into her driveway she was startled to see that it was ten to one. She had five minutes to prepare to meet with the superintendent.