Murder of a Bookstore Babe

CHAPTER 10

Catch-22

Skye had been back inside her house for less than a minute after escorting the newly engaged couple to their car when she heard knocking. Thinking her brother had forgotten something, she ran into the foyer and flung open the door. Instead of Vince demanding his Tupperware container full of leftovers, Simon stood on her porch holding a pizza box.

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might not have had a chance to eat today,” Simon explained.

“I do keep food in the house and am able to cook.” Skye let the sarcasm roll off her tongue. Simon wasn’t here just to feed her, and he didn’t have that cute, slightly goofy look he wore when he was trying to romance her, so something was definitely up.

He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “I need to talk to you in private.”

“I live alone on a fairly deserted road.” She made a show of sticking her head out the door and gazing around. “I’m pretty sure no one is eavesdropping.”

“Can I come in?” Simon juggled the flat cardboard box. “It’s important.”

“No.” Skye gave him a speculative look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“How about we sit out here?” Simon gestured to the porch furniture. “The weather’s nice. Just flip on your outside lights.”

“Okay.” Skye tipped her head. “But this better not be about winning me back.”

“I promise it’s not.”

“You wait right there,” Skye ordered. “I’ll go get some plates and napkins. Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’d love a scotch, but I’m guessing you don’t have the bottle you used to keep for me anymore, so how about a glass of wine?” He put the pizza down on the wicker table.

She nodded, closed the door, and after a second’s thought locked it. Hurrying to the kitchen, she worried about what her ex wanted to discuss. None of the subjects that came to mind was encouraging.

Simon had made himself comfortable while she’d been gone. The citronella candle Skye kept on the table was lit, and he had taken off his suit jacket and tie and was settled in one of the pair of matching wicker armchairs with his feet up on the ottoman.

Skye put down two glasses of Zinfandel, plates, and a stack of paper napkins, then took a seat. “Go ahead. Eat while it’s still hot.”

“Thanks.” He flipped open the box. “I haven’t had anything since coffee with you. I was on my way to brunch when I got the call from Boyd.”

While Simon devoured three slices of pizza, she nibbled on one. She may have eaten a huge dinner a couple of hours ago, but who could resist Aurelio’s pepperoni and mushrooms on a crispy thin crust?

Finally, Simon wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You sure aren’t eating much.” He sneered. “Has Boyd got you on a diet for the big wedding?”

“Of course not. He likes me the way I am,” Skye snapped. “Do you really think I’d lose weight because some man told me to?” She was tired of hearing about weddings, and she was especially tired of discussing what she should look like by the time hers rolled around.

“Oops! Sorry. That was just my jealousy getting out of hand.” Simon’s expression was contrite. “Let me rephrase that. Don’t you like the pizza?”

“If you must know, Mom and the gang were waiting for me with a complete Sunday dinner ready to be served when I got home.” She made a wry face. “I wonder how many other thirty-five-year-old women have mothers who break into their houses to cook for them.”

“May is one of a kind.” Simon’s tone was fond. “If my mother broke into my house, it would be to steal the silver in order to finance some get-rich-quick scheme.”

“Bunny’s not that bad.” Skye took a sip of her wine. “She would never steal from you.”

“You’re right.” Simon picked up another piece of pizza. “She’d just try to con me out of the money.”

They both laughed; then Skye sighed and said, “I’m not going to like why you’re here, am I?”

“Probably not.”

“Shoot!” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready. Tell me your news.”

“The medical examiner’s preliminary findings are that Kayla’s death was not an accident.”

“Because the rare-book cabinet was deliberately pushed over?”

“Not only that.” Simon finished chewing and swallowed. “Because it appears she was hit over the head before the cabinet was yanked on top of her.”

“How can he know that so soon?”

“Her skull was smashed in, but the bookcase only hit her from below the shoulder blades.”

“Still.” Skye’s chair squeaked as she leaned forward. “It was most likely a crime of circumstances. The thief didn’t realize Kayla was there, and when she caught him, he hit her, shoved the cabinet over, and ran.”

“Maybe.” Simon twisted a gold signet ring on his right hand. “But I’m concerned about Xavier.”

“His investment?”

“That, although I don’t think that poor girl’s death will keep business away for long—people have short memories.” Simon struggled to explain his reasoning. “More, I have a bad feeling that this wasn’t—how did you put it?—a crime of circumstances.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Something isn’t adding up.” Simon adjusted the crease on his trousers, then picked up his glass. “Xavier was really upset when he first came into the store and he thought Risé was the woman under the bookshelf, and he rarely expresses any emotion.”

“I can see why he’d be distressed. After all, he, Orlando, and Risé have been friends for years.” Skye wasn’t sure what Simon was trying to say. “Not to mention that Xavier doesn’t have many people he’s close to. He’s always struck me as an extremely lonely man.”

“That’s true.” Simon stared at his black wingtips, wiping a smudge from the toe with his napkin before continuing. “But I think it has something to do with what he’s hiding.”

“Then you’d better find out what his secret is.” Skye sipped her wine. “Not to be mean, but what does any of this have to do with me? If Xavier’s going to open up to anyone, it would be you.”

“True.” Simon tented his fingers under his chin and spoke over the tips. “But if Boyd is going to confide in anyone, it’s you.”

“Are you afraid that Xavier is somehow involved in that girl’s death?” Skye’s tone was incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I don’t think he killed her.” Simon leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his flat abdomen. “But he might know who did.”

Standing on the sidewalk watching Simon get into his car, Skye blew out an exasperated breath. What a day. She’d stumbled across a dead body, muddled the victim’s identity, handled Chase’s meltdown, learned the missing Orlando was actually in the drunk tank, and helped Wally notify Kayla’s parents of her death. Then she’d faced her family’s interrogation, Vince and Loretta’s demands, and finally Simon’s request.

Skye had agreed not to inform the police about Xavier’s investment in the bookstore, but she’d cautioned Simon that if Kayla’s death was anything other than the result of a burglary gone wrong, she would tell Wally. Skye also had assured Simon that she would keep her ears open for anything that might reveal what Xavier was hiding. Before he left, she’d made him promise not to show up at her house uninvited again—no matter what wonderful food he brought.

She climbed the steps to her porch, stopping midway to stare at Simon’s Lexus disappearing down her driveway. She was relieved to see him go. She really needed some time alone to process the events of the day and get ready for work tomorrow. A distracted school psychologist was a careless school psychologist, and that never ended well.

Before claiming her well-earned solitude, Skye reached a hand inside the front door and flicked on the halogen light that was mounted on a pole in her yard. It took her only a moment to clear up the debris of the impromptu pizza party, and as she balanced the box stacked with plates, wineglasses, and used napkins, she glimpsed a flash of yellow behind her garage. What in the world was back there? The only thing she could think of that might be that particular shade was a piece of Caterpillar equipment. But what would an earthmover be doing on her property? Surely, her father hadn’t bought her a backhoe.

Skye was stumped for a second until she remembered the VW she’d helped Xenia Craughwell purchase. But why would the girl be hiding on Skye’s land? Had she heard about Kayla’s death? And if so, how would she react to the news? Xenia’s response to any given situation was a crapshoot, and Skye had long ago given up betting on it.

Before Skye could stash her armload of trash and go investigate, the VW zoomed out from in back of the garage and screeched to a stop at the foot of Skye’s steps. Xenia jumped out and ran up to the porch.

“Seriously. You have more people in and out of here than a crack house.”

“And how would you know that?” Skye arched an eyebrow. “It had better be from TV.”

“Don’t freak.” Xenia opened the front door and gestured for Skye to go inside. “It’s just an expression.”

“Good.” Skye led Xenia down the hall toward the kitchen. “How long have you been spying on me?”

“I wasn’t spying.” Xenia crossed her arms, her expression more embarrassed than defiant. “I had just driven into your driveway when the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade arrived, so I pulled behind the garage to wait. I wanted to talk to you in private.”

“I see.” Skye put the dishes and glasses in the sink and, after scraping off the dried cheese and scraps, threw the box in the recycle bin.

“What was Mr. Reid doing here?” Xenia pursed her lips disapprovingly. “I thought you were hooked up with that buff police chief.” She shrugged, answering her own question. “I guess I should know by now that everyone cheats and there is no happily ever after.”

“That’s not true. Simon was just—” Skye heard herself stammering and closed her mouth in order to gather her thoughts. “Mr. Reid had some information he needed to share with me.”

“Over dinner?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Mr. Reid is the county coroner, and—”

Xenia cut her off. “Kayla’s dead, isn’t she?”

“I’m so sorry—”

“I knew it. I just knew Kayla was dead.”

“Did you hear it from someone in town?” Skye asked, but wondered why Xenia would have come to her for the information if she’d already been told.

“People were talking, but I didn’t want to believe what they were saying.” Xenia bit back a sob. “When Kayla didn’t show up at my house last night to work on her project and she didn’t answer her cell and her boyfriend kept calling me, I knew something was wrong.”

“Did you go looking for her?” Skye had a sinking feeling. “Xenia, did you go to Tales and Treats trying to find her?”

“Yes,” Xenia whispered, then sobbed, “It’s my fault. Kayla’s dead because of me.”

“Shh.” Skye put her arms around the girl. “Tell me all about it.” Ay-yi-yi! What had Xenia done? Had her anger issues finally resulted in her killing someone?

“If only I had gone inside.” Xenia leaned into Skye and whimpered, “Why did I just drive away? Why do I always do the wrong thing?”

Phew! That was a relief. Xenia’s crime was one of omission, not commission. “When were you there?” Skye asked, pulling out a chair from the table and easing the girl into it. She didn’t know whether the ME had been able to pinpoint the time of death, but Xenia’s information might help narrow it down if he hadn’t.

“Around eleven.”

“Did you see anything or anyone?”

“No. The window was dark and no one was around, so I figured they were closed and Kayla had already left. So I did, too.” Xenia drew an unsteady breath. “What if she was still alive and if I had gone in I could have saved her?”

“You mustn’t beat yourself up for acting in a reasonable manner.” Skye felt her heart break for the girl. When she’d moved to Scumble River, Xenia had had difficulty fitting in, and Kayla was the first real friend she had made. “It was after hours, the lights were off, and there was no sign of trouble. Why would you try to go in?”

“Because Kayla was missing.” Xenia’s voice cracked. “I should have done a better job looking out for her.”

“In those circumstances, there was no reason to have gone inside.” Skye scooted her chair closer to Xenia and took her hand in both of hers. “Was Kayla really missing? Did she tell you that she was coming to your house for sure?” Chase had made it seem like Kayla often decided at the last minute where she was spending the night.

“Not exactly.” Xenia brushed a long black pigtail back over her shoulder. “I just figured she’d be over since she had a big project due Monday and I have better equipment than she does.”

“And did she always answer her cell phone?” Skye probed, determined to alleviate the girl’s guilt.

“Well . . .” It was clear from Xenia’s expression that she wasn’t sure whether to tell the truth. “No, not always.” She added grudgingly, “Especially when she was with Chase. Kayla liked to keep her love life separate from her school life.”

“So there’s no way you really could have known she was in trouble.”

“I guess not.” Xenia looked relieved for a moment, then stiffened. “But with Chase calling and calling, I should have known.”

“He’d never done that before?”

“Not in a long time.” Xenia stubbornly held on to her feelings of culpability. “He knows I don’t like him, so I should have realized that he’d only call me if he’d tried every other way to find Kayla.”

“I respect the fact that you’re taking responsibility for your actions, but in this instance, there is no way you could have guessed Kayla was in trouble unless you’re clairvoyant.” Skye stood. “The only guilty one in this case is the person who committed the crime.”

“I suppose.” Xenia slumped further in her seat and picked at a hole in her fishnet gloves.

The good hostess in Skye kicked in. “Would you like some tea or hot chocolate?”

“I’d rather have coffee.”

“Okay.” Skye shrugged mentally. Xenia was eighteen, and it wasn’t as if she was asking for a shot of bourbon. “I have some wonderful pumpkin cake. My mother made it. Would you like a piece?”

“Sure.” Xenia reached down to stroke Bingo, who was sniffing her Doc Martens. “I’m sorry to burst in on you like that, but I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“I’m happy to talk to you anytime, but”—Skye finished preparing the coffee maker and toggled the switch to the ON position—“how about your mom?”

Xenia thrust out her jaw. “You’ve met my mother. She can barely manage to focus on me long enough to order takeout for dinner. She usually just gives me a twenty and tells me to get what I want.”

Skye nodded reluctantly. Raette Craughwell was extremely young and, from what Skye had heard, maintained an active social life. Xenia was left pretty much on her own. The only time Raette paid attention was when Xenia got into trouble, which was one of the reasons Xenia got into trouble so often.

There was a moment of silence while Skye tried to think of something comforting to say, but Xenia was too sharp for platitudes, so after a second, Skye put a slice of cake and a cup in front of the girl and asked her, “Do you take cream or sugar?”

“I drink it black, one sugar.”

Which said a lot about Xenia, Skye thought as she took a sip of her heavily sweetened and lightened coffee. “Would you mind going over your experience at Tales and Treats? There might be a clue as to who attacked Kayla.”

“You mean killed her.” Xenia took a gulp of her coffee and stared coolly at Skye. Apparently, Xenia’s hard shell was back in place. “You don’t have to mince words with me.”

“Understood.” Skye picked up the pen and paper she had taken from a drawer. “Can you be any more exact about the time you arrived at the store?”

“Let me think.” Xenia dipped a finger in the cream cheese frosting and licked it clean. “The clock on the bank sign read eleven eleven when I drove past. I remember thinking my grandma used to say that seeing a number like that was good luck and telling me to make a wish.”

“Good.” Skye made a note. “I take it you drove there in your Beetle?” When Xenia nodded, she went on. “Did you pass anyone on your way, either walking or driving?”

“Not after I went through the stoplight at Basin and Maryland.” Xenia forked a bite of cake into her mouth, then mumbled, “That end of the street was deserted.”

“Were there any vehicles parked along there that you recognized?”

“There were all those used cars from the Better Than New dealership.”

“Hmm.” Skye chewed the end of her pen. A memory was tickling at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite scratch the itch yet.

“I stopped my VW in front of the store, saw the lights were off, and drove away.”

“You didn’t get out and try the door?”

“No.” Xenia’s voice was bitter. “For once I was worried about getting in trouble, and I didn’t want to leave my car double-parked.”

“Was there a police cruiser anywhere in sight?” Skye was happy the girl was becoming more law-abiding but curious as to why.

“No. But those security cameras Risé installed Saturday morning were aimed right at me.”

Eureka! Skye shot out of her chair. The security cameras. That was what she had been trying to remember. Had Wally noticed them? It wasn’t as if it was common for Scumble River businesses to have them.

“Chief Boyd is going to want to talk to you about all this. I’d be happy to come with you to the police station.”

“That sucks!” Xenia jumped up and headed for the door.

Skye blocked her exit and said with a straight face, “Gravity sucks, too, but we’d be in trouble without it.”