Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

Simon joined her on the stair, his mouth spread in a thin-lipped smile. “You told me all right, but that was nine months ago. Most couples move forward, but you’re stuck in the past.”

She ducked her head. Maybe he was right. She wasn’t being very mature or very strong. But the few times she had allowed herself to be totally swept away by love had always turned out disastrously. She was afraid of her own taste in men. “I’m sorry Simon, but I’m just not ready to go through the humiliation again.”

“You think it would be humiliating to love me?” His voice was cold.

“No, that isn’t what I mean.” Skye looked up at the stars and wished she could be different. “Whenever I become truly, deeply involved with a man I lose my common sense, my good judgment.”

Simon’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. “You mean you do worse things than breaking and entering or buying confidential medical records?”

Skye narrowed her eyes and looked at him for the first time since they had begun talking. “Comments like that just prove what I’m saying. You don’t understand my needs and ambitions, but you expect me to understand yours.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Simon stood up. “How can I understand? You’ve never told me what happened with your ex-fiancé.”

She met his accusing eyes without flinching. “There’s nothing much to tell. He was handsome, charming, rich, and held an impressive social position in New Orleans’ society. I was awed that he had any interest in me and so unsure of myself that I allowed myself to become his puppet. I agreed with things I felt strongly against. I said things I didn’t mean. And I did things I’ll regret to my dying day. All to please him.”

“You were out of your element, away from home. That wouldn’t necessarily happen again.” Simon took her hand.

She shook off his touch. “When things went wrong with my job and the threat of a scandal became known, he dumped me and never looked back.” Skye stood up and whispered, “He never even said good-bye.”

“I’m not like that. Let me prove to you that isn’t how all men are.”

Skye took a ragged breath. He was slicing open a barely healed wound. “I need more time.” Time to forget, to erase the pain. “Can’t we just go on the way we’ve been? Have fun without becoming serious?”

Simon wrapped his hands around her upper arms and forced her to look at him. Rancor sharpened his voice. “No. I want more. And if you aren’t prepared to give it to me, then I have to look elsewhere. Time is moving on. I don’t want to be sixty when my kids graduate from high school.”

He spoke so viciously that she wondered how she could have ever thought him kind. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready. I lose myself when I’m in love. I’m afraid your opinion will become more important than mine. I’m afraid I’ll become so terrified of losing you I’ll do anything to keep your love.”

“I guess that’s it, then.” He paused as if challenging her to go through with it. When the silence between them became unbearable, Simon turned on his heel and strode toward his car. Over his shoulder he said, “Don’t expect me to call. This time it’s over.”

Skye watched until the Lexus’s taillights were out of sight. What had she just done? Slowly she turned, unlocked the door, and went in. It took a few moments to register, but she finally noticed the light was on in the kitchen. She didn’t think she’d left any lights on.

After that scene with Simon, she was in no mood for another intruder or more vandalism. Skye flung up the hinged seat of the hall bench and grabbed the shotgun. She had just about had it. This time she was shooting first and asking questions later.

As she stepped into the kitchen, Skye let the gun slide to her side. The table was covered with food and there was a note in her mother’s handwriting: I was afraid you wouldn’t have enough time so I made the food for your brunch. I also cleaned up a little. Hope everything is okay. Love, Mom.

Skye shook her head. What a sweet thing to do. It was too late to call and thank her mom, but she’d do that before church tomorrow. Still, she’d have to make it clear to her mother that from now on, Skye would prepare for her own parties or she’d have to take May’s key away. It was all too much. Simon, her grandmother’s murder, her parents’ need to help—Skye curled into the corner of the sofa and buried her head.

Ginger and Gillian arrived together. This was their first visit to Skye’s cottage and curiosity shone on their identical faces. Skye guided them through the foyer and into the great room. She had placed a folding table and chairs next to the sliding glass doors, where the view of the river was best.

“Make yourselves at home. Victoria should be here any minute.” Skye gestured to the sofa.

“Victoria’s coming?” Gillian settled into the corner of the couch.

“She accepted my invitation.” Skye raised an eyebrow. “Is there some reason why she wouldn’t want to have brunch with us?”

Ginger and Gillian looked at each other. Skye could see the silent communication and was frustrated by her inability to interpret what was being conveyed.

The uneasy silence was broken by the ringing of the phone.

Skye started toward the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, “Excuse me.”

Trixie’s voice greeted Skye’s hello. “I talked to my cousin. We can see her today at six. That’s when the pharmacist goes home for his dinner break.”

“I’m surprised the drugstore is even open on Sunday, let alone so late.”

“The owner is trying to compete with the new Wal-Mart in Laurel. He can’t stay open twenty-four hours, but he is open eight a.m. to eight p.m. seven days a week,” Trixie said.

“Great. I’ll pick you up about five to. I can’t talk now. I’m entertaining my cousins.”

“What are you going to do to them? Is this the pay-back for having kidnapped you?” Trixie asked excitedly.

“Nothing and no. I’m trying to forgive and forget.”

“And pry information out of them, I bet,” Trixie guessed.

Skye didn’t comment. “See you tonight. Bye.”

As she rejoined Gillian and Ginger, the doorbell rang. Victoria entered in a miasma of Obsession and a flurry of georgette. Her lilac slip dress and high-heeled white sandals made Skye feel underdressed for her own party.

The twins tugged at their own clothes, making it clear Victoria had the same effect on them.

No one said anything until Skye remembered her manners. “So glad you could make it on such short notice. Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us some drinks.”

Victoria chose a canvas sling chair facing the sofa and sank gracefully onto its seat. “I wouldn’t have missed this chance to spend time with my dear cousins.”

“I have mimosas and Bellinis. What would you all like?” Skye stood ready to fetch the glasses from the kitchen.

After Skye explained what both drinks contained, the twins opted for mimosas and Victoria asked for a Bellini. Skye filled her own glass with orange juice and 7-UP, adding a little grenadine to disguise the fact that she wasn’t drinking any alcohol.

Skye returned to the great room carrying a tray of drinks. She had just served the last goblet when Bingo entered the room. He froze in the doorway and sniffed the air. Walking stiffly, he advanced toward Victoria and launched himself into her lap.

Victoria shrieked and held up her hands to stop him but Skye heard the chiffon of her dress rip. Skye scooped up the indignant cat, stuffed him into her bedroom, and closed the door.

She turned to Victoria. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry. He’s never behaved that way before.”

With a stunned expression Victoria examined the tears in the fabric of her dress. “This was brand-new. It cost a hundred and forty-nine dollars plus tax.”

“Maybe it could be fixed,” Skye offered weakly.

“I don’t want it fixed. I want it new!” Victoria’s face turned an unattractive shade of red and her voice screeched like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“I’ll write you a check.” Skye felt a knot in her stomach as she handed over the slip of paper.

After looking it over, Victoria tucked the check into her purse. “I’ll let you know how much the tax was.” Sitting back in her chair, she said, “I believe I’m ready for that drink now.”

Skye sat on the only vacant seat and took a sip from her glass. She searched her mind for a topic of conversation and finally said, “When are Flip and Irv going on that fishing trip?”

“They decided to skip it this year. We’re going to spend their vacations camping at the rec club,” Gillian answered for them both.

“Oh? I’m surprised. I thought I heard them say they had already made all the arrangements.” Skye kept a neutral look on her face.

“Well, with Grandma dying and Momma in the hospital we decided this wasn’t a good time.” Gillian finished her mimosa.

Skye poured her a refill from the pitcher. “That’s too bad. It sounded as if they were really looking forward to it.”

Ginger chugged the rest of her drink. “Maybe if we had got Grandma’s good jewelry, like she promised us, they could have gone, but no one seems to know anything about that.”

Victoria, who had been silent, asked, “Grandma Leofanti had good jewelry?”

“No,” Skye answered, “all she had was the emerald ring that she passed to me on my eighteenth birthday as the firstborn granddaughter, a pair of earrings, and a pendant. As it turned out, we each ended up with one piece.” Skye filled Ginger’s empty goblet.

“What about me?” Victoria pouted.

“Sorry, Hugo chose the living room set.” Skye reappeared from the kitchen with a fresh drink for Victoria. “So, how’s Aunt Minnie doing?”

Gillian looked at Ginger before speaking. “Pretty good. They’ve decided to keep her for a thirty-day observation.”

“That’s as long as most insurance companies will pay for a psychiatric stay,” Skye said.

“That explains it then.” Ginger put her empty glass down.

“Can she have visitors?” Skye asked.

“Just Ginger, Daddy, and me.” Gillian tossed back her third mimosa.

“Did you ever hear about your mom going away for a rest when she was in high school?” Skye picked her words with care.

The twins shook their heads.

Ginger leaned forward. “A rest? What do you mean?”

“Nothing, really. Someone mentioned they thought they remembered your mom going away for a while when she was in her teens.” Skye stood up. “Everyone ready to eat?”

The group moved to the table. Skye had set it with a starched linen cloth and matching napkins. The seafoam green dishes she had inherited seemed to float on the white expanse. Her everyday flatware had been polished until it looked almost like real silver. The pink crystal goblets she had chosen from her grandmother’s estate sparkled in the bright sunlight from the patio doors.

A centerpiece made up of pink roses and ferns from May’s cutting garden completed the setting. Skye brought out the cantaloupe bowls with fresh fruit and they began to eat.

“What does Prescott do for fun in the summer?” Skye asked Victoria.

“He’s taking golf and tennis lessons at the club.” Victoria spooned a melon ball into her mouth.

“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.”

CHAPTER 21

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.”

Now I’ve done it. I can’t mention Grandma’s murder without admitting I’m not Miss Prynn’s niece. Maybe she really did die of natural causes. What did that book say about the symptoms of the poison used on Grandma?

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.”

I’m really sorry for the trouble he’s going to get into for being so nice to me.

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.

She was back in the car in three minutes, having only grabbed her briefcase and checked her answering machine. There was no message from Simon.

Scumble River High School was deserted for summer vacation. This time of year it was typical for the only people in the building to be administration and custodial.

The outer office was empty when she arrived, so she knocked on the superintendent’s door.

When she got no answer, she slipped into the adjoining rest room, glad for the chance to freshen up.

A few minutes later Skye heard the thumping of people knocking into furniture and the loud laughter of the inebriated. She opened the door a crack and peered out.

Dr. Wraige and Karolyn passed by, arms around each other. Their faces were flushed and a wave of alcohol fumes rolled over Skye as they went by the rest room. Wraige whispered into the redhead’s ear before kissing her neck. She giggled in response. Skye’s mouth dropped open.

The superintendent proceeded into his office and the secretary sat down at her desk.

Great. Now how do I get out of here without Karolyn realizing I witnessed their little love scene? Skye wondered.

Minutes ticked by and Skye was keenly aware that she was now late for her appointment to be fired. She was about to push open the door and test her acting ability when she heard the phone buzz and Mr. Wraige’s voice ordering Karolyn into his office.

As soon as the secretary disappeared into the other room, Skye shot out of the bathroom and into the hall. She waited until Karolyn came back to her desk before entering again.

The secretary looked up, then ran her finger down the page of her appointment book. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, I got tied up and couldn’t get away.”

“He won’t be happy.”

Funny, he looked darn right jolly a minute ago. Skye bit back a smile.

After the secretary buzzed her boss, Skye was shown into the inner sanctum and told to sit down. Wraige had tidied up his hair and his complexion was back to its usual gray tone.

“Ms. Denison, thank you for coming in during the summer.” He glanced at his watch. “I hope we’re not keeping you from anything more important.”

“No, not at all.”

He paused, obviously waiting for her to apologize for being late. When she didn’t speak, he continued. “I hope you had a chance to review that testing we spoke of.”

She nodded, but made no move to open the file on her lap.

“And did you find anything you had overlooked before?” Wraige leaned forward, a look of annoyance on his face.

Skye smelled the mouthwash he had used in an attempt to cover the odor of alcohol. “No. As I said before, Cray Clapp is not learning disabled. He has an IQ of one hundred and twenty-nine and his achievement scores are all within the expected limit for that ability level. Furthermore, there are no signs of any processing problems.”

“The mayor is going to be very unhappy.” Wraige rose from his chair, swaying slightly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but parents are often unhappy with the outcome of my tests. That doesn’t mean I am free to change those results.” Skye leaned back and looked into his bloodshot eyes.

“Your lack of team spirit may very well influence our decision whether to keep you on for next year.”

“Perhaps you forgot, but if you aren’t going to renew my contract you need to notify me in March, according to the union agreement.” Skye held his gaze.

“There’s always a loophole for incompetence.”

“I see.”

Wraige smiled cruelly. “And with your past history, ineptitude shouldn’t be hard to prove.”

“I don’t suppose you want to hear the truth about my previous dismissal?”

“I don’t really care about the truth.”

“Your contract is up for renewal this year too, isn’t it?”

“Don’t think your Uncle Charlie can save you this time.” Wraige sat on the edge of his desk.

“Actually, I was thinking more of the other board members. Especially Mrs. Hopkins.” Skye watched his puzzled expression. “Isn’t she a close friend of your wife?”

“Yes, Roberta and Patricia are friends. What does that have to do with anything?” His brows met over his nose.

“What if I told you I wasn’t late for our meeting? That I was actually early and in the rest room?” Skye waited as he mentally reviewed the afternoon’s activities. A series of emotions played across his face.

“So?” His voice cracked.

“Well, if I were called into a board meeting to defend my job performance, I would be forced to tell about this meeting.” She noted the way his body sagged against the desk’s surface. “And, being the thorough person that I am, I would start my description with you and Karolyn’s entrance into the office.”

“You have no proof.” His face was almost purple with rage.

“Neither do you.” Skye rose and gathered her belongings. “Can I count on this being the end of the Clapp matter?”

After a long moment he nodded.

“And the end of talk about firing me?”

An even longer pause, then another nod.

“Fine.” Skye turned back before she opened the door. “Just remember, even though psychologists are trained to keep things confidential, we do keep excellent records.”

CHAPTER 22

See How They Run

Skye took a deep breath and leaned back against the headrest. It had worked! She had actually outmaneuvered the superintendent. Surprised to discover she was sweating, she took a tissue from her pocket and wiped her face. Of course, she hadn’t gained any friends in the process, and would really have to watch her back in the future.

The first thing Skye did after arriving home was to call the hospital. She confirmed that Minnie had not been released and couldn’t have been the one to poison Miss Prynn.

As she hung up the phone, the doorbell rang. Skye looked out the window and saw Junior Doozier on her front step. Junior was the nine-year-old son of Earl and Glenda. He had come to Skye’s assistance after the “accident” with her car last fall. For the rest of the year, she had made a point of dropping into his classroom to say hi.

Skye opened the door. “Junior, what a nice surprise. How did you get all the way over here?” He lived on the other side of town.

He thrust an envelope at her. “You need to see this, Miz Denison.”

“Okay.” Skye stepped aside. “Come on in. I’ll get you a soda.”

“Read that first.” Junior followed her into the kitchen.

She extracted a piece of letterhead stationery and skimmed the contents. It was from the Department of Children and Family Services and said that if Mr. Doozier continued to fail to cooperate with their caseworker, DCFS would take Cletus from him.

“Where did you get this? It’s addressed to your Uncle Hap and is very private.”

“He had me read it to him. And when I finished he grabbed his rifle and said he was coming over here to kill you.” Junior’s freckles stood out like specks of blood on his pale face.

“When was this?” Skye asked over her shoulder as she checked the locks on the door and snatched her shotgun from inside the hall bench’s seat.

“About an hour ago. I hid in the back of his pickup when he drove off. He stopped at the Brown Bag and I hitched a ride with someone coming this way.”

“You sure he said he’d kill me?” Skye dialed the phone as she talked to the boy.

“Yes, ma’am. And he weren’t foolin’. He blames you for startin’ the whole thing. He thought you’d stop DCFS after he slashed your tires and broke your windows, but you didn’t do nothing, so he gave you the last warning. Deer blood on your door.”

Why wasn’t anyone answering at the police station? “I can’t stop DCFS. Once I make a report it’s out of my hands. And I didn’t understand the warnings.”

Finally the dispatcher came on the line. “Scumble River Police Station. Can you hold?”

“No!” Skye shouted into the phone. “Is that you, Thea? It’s Skye. Put me through to Wally right now. It’s an emergency.”

“Sure, honey, just a sec.”

A moment later Wally came on the line, his voice expressionless. “Yes?”

Skye explained what Junior had told her.

Wally’s tone became immediately forceful. “Stay where you are. Keep the boy with you. We’ll pick up Doozier at the bar and then call you.”

She hung up and turned toward Junior. “Chief Boyd will take care of your uncle.”

Junior was silent for a while. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about Uncle Hap. I never thought he’d really hurt you.”

“I know. And I appreciate your telling me now. You probably saved my life.” Skye patted the boy’s shoulder. “Believe me, I know it’s hard to figure out what to do when family is involved.”

Twenty minutes later, Wally called back to say they had Hap in custody. Skye drove Junior home. He asked her not to talk to his folks, and she respected his choice, but gave him her phone number in case he changed his mind or needed her help.

Skye’s mind was preoccupied by the events of the last few hours as she arrived at her Aunt Mona and Uncle Neal’s place. They lived in a large house perched on the southern edge of their acreage, surrounded by perfectly maintained farm buildings.

Neal opened the door, his expression unreadable. “Skye, please come in.”

Cherry, their twenty-five pound Chihuahua, stood by his side. She looked like a scuba tank with legs.

He led her through the mirrored foyer and into the living room.

“Here,” Skye said. “I thought maybe you and Aunt Mona would enjoy this.” She handed him a bottle of wine.

“Thank you. I’ll put it away for a special occasion.” Neal walked out a door opposite the one they had come through.

Cherry stood and stared at Skye. She ignored the animal, having had her fingers nipped by the dog once before. Instead Skye gazed at the lavish decor. The room was done in brocade and velvet, punctuated with gleaming oak tables, stunning floral arrangements, and a selection of beautifully framed art.

Skye peered inside an imposing curio cabinet in a corner next to the windows. Nestled behind the most immense assembly of crystal and porcelain figurines this side of Marshall Field’s, she noticed a bit of black leather.

Skye had her nose pressed to the glass trying to get a better view when Mona and Neal entered.

Her aunt’s smile tightened. “Is there something of my collection I could show you, Skye?”

Skye allowed herself to be guided to a seat on the sofa. “No, just admiring the whole effect.”

“Thank you. Would you care for something to drink? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” Mona perched on the edge of a wing chair facing Skye.

“No, thank you.”

The ticking of the grandfather clock marked off the seconds as the trio sat looking at each other. Skye searched for something to say.

Mona finally spoke. “We saw you at Mass yesterday. Why didn’t you go to communion?”

Skye felt her face turn red and she opened her mouth, but at first no words came out. “You know, Aunt Mona, that’s a pretty personal question.”

“It is the duty of family to monitor the spiritual well-being of its young,” Mona said, as if reciting something she’d memorized.

“I appreciate your concern,” Skye managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Father Burns has confession on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Tomorrow it’s from nine to ten,” Mona said. “You should go.”

“Maybe I will. Thank you for the information.” Skye wondered how soon she could gracefully leave.

The sound of an oven timer allowed them to retreat to their neutral corners.

Neal looked at Mona and frowned. “Are you going to do something about that?”

Mona jumped up. “Sorry, dear. Dinner is ready.”

Conversation around the table did not improve. As Skye’s impatience grew, her discretion decreased.

When dessert was served, Skye asked, “Aunt Mona, do you remember going away with Aunt Minnie when you were in high school?”

“No.” Mona arched an eyebrow. “What was the occasion?”

“Aunt Minnie wasn’t feeling well and needed a rest.” Skye looked Mona in the eye. “A nurse from Chicago came and got you and took you somewhere.”

“Out of respect for your Aunt Minnie we won’t talk about that.” A tic was visible under Mona’s eye. “I hope you aren’t going to drag all of that out.”

Neal pushed a little away from the table and crossed his legs. “I don’t remember you ever telling me about that trip, darling. Something I should know?”

“It was nothing. Just one of Minnie’s spells. My parents panicked.” Mona rose from the table.

Skye also got to her feet. “Thank you for dinner.” She moved to the foyer. “Sorry to eat and run, but I just remembered. I left the iron on.”

When Skye looked back, Neal was shaking his finger at Mona, while the older woman stared at Skye.

It was a relief when the alarm clock rang. Skye had barely dozed all night. Every time she had managed to quit thinking of Simon, Wally’s anger popped into her mind. And when she finally forced herself to stop agonizing over the men who weren’t in her life anymore she thought of Miss Prynn. She wondered if the police had taken her anonymous call seriously, or if they’d blown it off and marked the nurse’s death as arising from natural causes. Or worse, was there an APB out with her description?

After removing Bingo from her stomach, Skye dragged herself into the shower, hoping the water would clear her mind. She pulled on a pair of denim shorts, a white T-shirt, and tennies, then went to feed Bingo. She had heard his yowls through both the closed shower and bathroom doors.

The weather matched her mood. Dark clouds rolled past, releasing sheets of rain. Occasional bangs of thunder and jolts of lightning enlivened the morning.

Skye barely choked down her toast, and could feel a headache starting to form behind her temples. She lay down on the couch.

Now that she knew that Hap Doozier was behind all the pranks, she could clear them from her mind. She was sure she had enough clues to her grandmother’s murderer, if only she could put them together in the right way. She closed her eyes and visualized a list of her relatives. Dante was a lousy farmer who liked to spend cash he didn’t have, and had been in charge of his mother’s money for a long time with no one checking up on him. He would gain little, and actually lose control of the trust, by killing Antonia.

Hugo had met with a housing developer, and his wife claimed she had a job with this same developer. He and his wife spent money like it came free in the mail. But they had no way to get at the Leofanti land except through Dante, who wasn’t selling.

Mona? She was a sanctimonious witch, at her husband’s beck and call, and so self-centered she would do anything if she thought it was in her own best interest. How would killing Antonia profit Mona?

Minnie was a prime suspect if she had really tried to kill herself. But her motive was pretty weak. If she was tired of caring for her mother, she could have stopped. No one had held a gun to her head. And if Miss Prynn was murdered by the same person, it couldn’t be Minnie.

The twins seemed to be short of money and they were disappointed with their inheritance. Nothing there to kill about.

Skye drifted between sleep and wakefulness. The twins might not be happy with what they had inherited, but Skye had gotten the table she wanted. She could still see it under the big window at the farm. Sighing, she turned on her side. Wait a minute. There was something odd under that window last time she was in the house. What was it? A brown mark on the freshly painted wall. What did that mean?

Skye had placed the table in her own cottage a few feet from her sofa. She got up to examine it more closely, kneeling to look underneath it. She ran her hands along the legs and studied the surface. Okay, this table was always under that window. How could it have made that mark on the wall? She remembered when Vince had picked it up to carry it out to her car. He hadn’t knocked it against the plaster.

She sat on the floor and rested the back of her neck on the table’s edge. Her head slipped farther backward. She straightened and turned around. The top of the table was slightly askew. Pushing the rim with her palm, she was able to nudge the top into a twenty-five degree angle from the base.

A small orifice was revealed. Skye slipped her hand into the hole. At first all she felt was the grain of the wood, but her fingertips soon closed upon something smooth.

As the object came into view she could see that it was an envelope. The stationery was pink and smelled of her grandmother’s lavender sachet. Skye slid out a single sheet. Her grandmother’s faint handwriting filled the page.

It was addressed to Annamaria Boggio, Antonia’s sister, but the stamp had never been canceled.

Dear Annamaria,

Today has been the worst day of my life. Once again I have been weak and allowed Angelo to overrule me. Will my daughter ever forgive me? Her look of panic when we told her she had to go away will remain with me always. She was not comforted by her sister’s presence as I had hoped.

The nurse he hired to do the wicked deed and take care of her afterwards seems passable, but she has no warmth and makes it clear she does what she does for money.

I hear Angelo’s key in the lock. I will have to mail this when he is not around as he has forbidden me to write of this matter. Please pray for your niece as her father forces her to get rid of her child.

Your loving sister,

Antonia

Skye’s heart pounded. This certainly put a whole new light on things! Since neither of her aunts had appeared pregnant in the photo and they had been gone for only a month, her grandmother must have been referring to an abortion. So who had the abortion, Minnie or Mona? And did the other sister know what was going on?

Skye grabbed the phone and called the hospital. She was in luck. Minnie was allowed to speak on the phone.

After polite chitchat Skye got to the point. “Ah, Aunt Minnie, please stop me if this upsets you, but I was wondering if you remember that time you and Mona stayed with a nurse in Chicago?”

“Sure,” Minnie answered readily. “Why would that upset me? Mona needed to have her appendix out. Mom and Dad sent me to keep her company.”

“But you were all right?”

“Sure.” Minnie’s voice reflected her memory of a good time. “It was sort of fun to be in the city. And Mona recovered real fast. It was almost like being on vacation. I even took some pictures . . .” Minnie’s voice trailed off. “I wonder what happened to them?”

“I’ll see if I can find them,” Skye promised. “Thanks, Aunt Minnie; get well soon.”

So Mona had had the abortion. Did that mean she had killed Antonia? After all these years, why would she kill her mother? If it wasn’t to gain something, what else was accomplished by her death?

The family history. Killing her stopped Antonia from talking about the past and thus revealing Mona’s abortion. Would her aunt kill to keep that secret?

Skye thought about her aunt and uncle’s marriage, about his position in the Knights of Columbus. Mona might kill to protect that.

Skye suddenly leaped from the couch. She reached for the phone and dialed. No one answered at her parents’ house.

She swore in frustration. She had to talk this over with someone. What if she was wrong? She tried Charlie and Trixie. No one was home.

Great, I guess I’ll have to talk to Wally. Probably should have been my first choice anyway, but he’s still so mad at me about going to the survivalist camp. Oh, well, this isn’t something I can put off.

Skye reached once again for the phone, but this time there was no dial tone. She looked out the kitchen window, but the storm had worsened and she couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead.

Shit, I suppose the electricity will be next. I’d better store some water just in case. Electrical outages in Scumble River had been known to last a long time.

After she filled the bathtub, she’d change and drive in to see Wally. Might as well get the whole thing over with. Damn, he’d be really pissed about the whole incident with the Chicago police.

Skye walked into her bathroom and leaned over the tub. Before she could straighten she felt something poke her in the back. She gasped and whirled around.

A steel barrel stared her in the face. The person holding it said, “Stand up slowly with your hands in the air.”

CHAPTER 23

Nine, Ten, Round the Bend

“ow did you get in here?” Skye asked. “I’m sure I locked all the doors.”

“I borrowed the key from your mother’s purse,” Mona answered. “I’ll slip it back in before she notices it’s gone.”

“What do you want?” Skye stared at the gun Mona held in her right hand.

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Mona prodded Skye through the bedroom and into the living room.

Skye sat down hard on the sofa. “Figured out what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t pull that innocent act on me. I knew you were closing in ever since you talked to Nurse Prynn. And you made it clear last night at dinner that you suspected me.” Mona’s mouth was bracketed by wrinkles Skye didn’t remember seeing until today.

“I’ve suspected everybody.” Skye’s hand closed over a pen wedged between the couch cushions. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was the only one available.

“Quit lying.” Mona gestured to the patio doors. “I’ve been watching you through the window, and I saw you jump up and run to the telephone.”

“Then you know I’ve already called the police.” Skye looked her aunt in the eye.

“I don’t think so. Your first inclination would be to call your mother, and I know she’s getting her hair done. Charlie isn’t home either. And I cut the wire pretty quickly, so I’ll have to take the chance you didn’t tell anyone.” Mona’s voice was firm.

“If I can figure it out, so can someone else.” Skye inched to the edge of the seat, palming the pen.

“No. You have knowledge others wouldn’t have. With Nurse Prynn gone there really is no one left who remembers.”

Skye searched her memory, trying to think of something to say to change her aunt’s mind. “Aunt Minnie knows. Isn’t that why you tried to kill her with those sleeping pills?”

“I didn’t try to kill Minnie. I never intended for her to die. I wanted everyone to think she had attempted suicide so they’d suspect her of killing Mom.” Mona rubbed her temple, a faraway look on her face. “She doesn’t know anything. She never knew I had an abortion. Minnie has always lived in her own world. She never even knew I was seeing Beau, so she couldn’t know I was pregnant by him. She was told I had my appendix out.” Mona moved closer to Skye. “Now get up. You need to put a dress on.”

“Why do I need a dress?”

Mona ignored Skye’s question as she walked her into the bedroom and opened the closet.

“I still don’t understand why you’re willing to kill rather than have people know that you had an abortion as a teenager.” Skye took off her shorts and T-shirt and slipped on the dress Mona handed her. “That is why you killed your own mother, isn’t it? Because you were afraid Grandma would tell me about your abortion when she got to that point in the family history.”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through. I begged Mom not to tell anyone, but her memory was getting so bad for the present, and seemed to be getting clearer for the past. I couldn’t chance it.” Mona stared at Skye. “She just wouldn’t cooperate. I asked her for the family Bible. I knew she would have made some note of the baby. But she said she didn’t know where it was. I asked for the pictures Minnie took while we were in Chicago with Nurse Prynn, and Mom claimed they had been thrown out years ago.”

Skye opened her mouth to ask a question, but Mona continued with her own train of thought. “There was always someone at the farm so I never got a chance to look for the Bible or pictures when Mom was alive. And I needed to get to Joliet the day I brought her the brownies. She took longer to die than I expected, and the housekeeper’s death was an unexpected complication, so I had to go back and search after you all left that night. I was so afraid Neal would wake up and find me gone that I had to rush. You had already made the police suspicious so at least I didn’t have to be neat.” Mona smiled coldly. “Good thing we live close by. It was easy keeping an eye on who went to the farm after Mom died. I could sit in my living room and watch out the picture window. And when I couldn’t be there I set up my video camera.”

“So that’s how you knew I had the Bible and the pictures. You saw me go by that night, then snuck over to the farm and watched me.” Skye visually searched the room for a better weapon than the pen she had slipped into her pocket.

“Right.” Mona stared vacantly for a moment. “Let’s see, is there anything else we need here?”

Skye glanced at her tennis shoes. Knowing she’d have a better chance of getting away if Mona didn’t make her change into heels, she asked another question, hoping to keep her aunt distracted. “But why? Okay, so abortion was illegal. It’s not as if anyone could prosecute you now.”

“Neal would leave me if he found out. He’d be ruined in the community. How could he go on being the Grand Knight of the KC if this information got out?” Mona scrubbed her eyes with her fist. “Give me your keys. We’re going to church.”

“Church?”

“You need to go to confession. That way you’ll go straight to heaven.” Mona’s eyes gleamed. “In a way, I’m saving you from years of torment here on earth.”

“That’s why you knew Grandma and Mrs. Jankowski had gone to confession that day. You arranged it.” Skye grabbed her keys from the dish by the door and handed them to her aunt.

Skye preceded Mona outside. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Mona made Skye get into the car via the driver’s side and prodded her over to the passenger seat with the gun.

Using one hand, Mona put the Buick in gear and backed out of the driveway, then continued where she had left off. “Nurse Prynn wasn’t Catholic, so she was going to hell anyway.”

“How did you find out about me locating Miss Prynn?” Skye asked.

“She called me Saturday, demanding money.” Mona kept the gun trained on Skye. “She wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell her that Neal would notice if I took a large sum from our checking account. I begged her to let me pay a little bit each week. She said she was too old for the installment plan. So I agreed to bring her the cash on Sunday.”

Skye watched the gun barrel as it wavered between her chest and head. “But you didn’t bring her money on Sunday, did you? You brought her a plate of your famous double fudge brownies. And instead of pecans you used those nuts you brought home from your Hawaiian vacation. The poison guide said they were very tasty, but extremely toxic.”

“I told her I had forgotten the bank was closed on Sunday, and I’d have to bring her the money the next day, but I wanted to give her something to show my good intentions.” Mona finished Skye’s thought.

“So, when did you steal Miss Prynn’s records?”

“I didn’t. The old bat wouldn’t open the door to me on Sunday. She made me leave the brownies on the step. I didn’t know when she’d eat them. And when I came back Monday morning I couldn’t get into the house.” Mona frowned. “But with you gone the records will be just one among hundreds.”

Skye parked the car in back of the church. “Now what?” She didn’t mention that Mona’s file was missing.

“We go in. You make your confession and we leave. If you make a fuss, I shoot you right here. If you tell the priest, I’ll kill him too. Understand?”

“Yes.”

The two women entered through the side door of the deserted building. It was over a hundred and forty years old, and the main architectural features had not been changed.

They made their way down the main aisle past rows of plain wooden pews. To the right of the altar were the confessionals. About the size of coat closets, the two outer chambers shared their inner walls with the center booth where the priest sat waiting to hear from his parishioners. There were lights above the doors on the left and right to indicate whether they were occupied. The bulbs were operated by a person’s weight upon the kneelers inside. Both lights were off.

Mona sat on the pew nearest the confessional and shoved Skye toward the coffinlike structure. “I’ll be right here, so don’t try anything. Remember, I can hear what you say in there.”

Which was true. The confessionals were far from soundproof, and often those waiting could hear what the penitents in front of them had to confess.

As Skye walked toward the door she put her hand in her pocket and found the pen she had hidden there.

Skye entered slowly, searching for something on which to write. Spotting a discarded Sunday bulletin wedged in the corner, she grabbed it as she knelt on the platform facing the sliding mesh window.

As soon as the screen opened, Skye started the ritual prayer. “Bless me Father for I have sinned.” As she spoke, she scribbled furiously.

Sliding the note and the pen to the priest, she held her breath. Will he believe me? Is there any way he can help me?

The priest gasped and Skye shut her eyes, afraid her aunt would hear. She was relieved when he began his expected response. The slip of paper came back as she recited her sins.

She squinted to read in the dim light. The note said, “Can you crawl through the window? There’s a door leading to the rectory’s basement over here.”

The priest was removing the screen as he gave Skye her penance. She stood on the wooden kneeler, putting her head and shoulders through the opening. He took hold of her around the waist and yanked. At first it didn’t seem as if her hips were going to fit. His prayers took on a note of desperation as he pulled. With a tearing sound, she finally popped through the tight space.

They both froze, waiting to see if Mona had heard the material rip or noticed that the light above the door was now out. When there was no reaction from her, the priest opened a square of wood from the back wall near the floor and nudged Skye down the steps. He then began his prayer of absolution as he joined her on the stairs and replaced the panel. Just before the partition slid into place Skye heard the first gunshot.

Father Burns and Skye locked the secret passage behind them and pushed an old dresser in front of the panel. As they struggled with the heavy piece of furniture they heard more gunshots coming from the church. Skye prayed no one would walk in on Mona’s rampage.

“What now?” the priest asked.

Skye noted his heightened color and rapid breathing. “You stay here, and I’ll go upstairs and phone the police.”

He nodded and sank down into an old chair. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get through the passage.”

“Good.” Skye was halfway up the stairs when the door from the rectory burst open. She yelped and turned to run.

“What are you two doing down here?” the parish housekeeper asked.

Father Burns moved forward and put an arm around Skye. “Skye’s aunt is trying to kill her.”

“Lord have mercy!” The older woman clutched her chest.

“Stay here with Father. I’ll call the police,” Skye ordered.

After telephoning Wally, Skye started to check the doors. None were locked. She had just reached the vestibule when the front door burst open.

Mona stood with her gun pointed at Skye. “Did you really think you could get away from me?”

“It’s too late. I’ve called the police. There’s nothing left to cover up. Everyone knows.” Skye tried to back away.

“Then I have nothing to lose.” Mona took aim.

At that moment they heard the first siren.

“Please, Aunt Mona, put the gun down. Don’t make the police shoot you,” Skye begged.

A look of loathing crossed Mona’s features. “This is all your fault and you have to pay.” Without warning, she squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened. Mona squeezed again and again. She was out of bullets. They could hear doors opening and shoe leather slapping the pavement. The police had arrived.

Mona tried to grab Skye, but without a gun she was no match for her niece. Skye stepped into her aunt’s grasp, turned sharply, and easily broke Mona’s grip. Once again Skye’s training in takedowns for uncontrollable kids came in handy.

Enraged, Mona threw the gun at Skye, rushed past and out the kitchen door. Skye hesitated for a moment before running after her. She reached the door just in time to see Mona fling herself into the Buick and squeal out of the parking lot.

A few seconds later Chief Boyd and Officer Quirk ran in. Skye hastily told them what had happened, and Wally sent Quirk in pursuit of Mona. He also radioed for help from the county sheriff, and ordered in all off-duty officers.

May and Charlie arrived at the rectory soon afterward, having heard the dispatches on their police radio scanners.

They were all in the priest’s office and everyone was talking. Finally Wally shouted, “Okay, the first person who speaks without being spoken to leaves the room. You shouldn’t all be here anyway, but it would take more officers than I have available to make you leave. So sit down and shut up!”

Skye was seated on the sofa between May and Charlie. Father Burns was at his desk. His housekeeper stood behind him as if on guard.

Wally paced between the two groups. Finally he turned to Skye. “Tell me what happened after your aunt showed up at your house.”

After Skye ran through the events up to the time she arrived at the church, Wally addressed the priest. “Why did you believe Skye so readily? Your fast thinking probably saved both your lives. When we checked, Mona had emptied six bullets into the confessionals.”

Father Burns looked down at the rosary in his hands. “I can’t tell you a lot. I’m bound by the seal of the confessional, but let’s just say I knew Skye was telling the truth.”

Wally narrowed his eyes. “In other words, Mona confessed to you?”

“I really can’t say one way or another. Why does it matter?” Father Burns sat motionlessly.

“Then let’s move on to the convenient passage between the church and rectory. How long has that been there?” Wally leaned his hands on the desk’s edge.

“It’s been there as long as the church has been. We were a stop on the Underground Railroad.”

“Why didn’t I know that?” Wally asked.

“Because we keep it quiet. We don’t want to take away from the purpose of the church. We even considered filling in the tunnel the last time we remodeled, but decided at the last minute to keep it open.”

“Thank God.” Skye sighed.

As a result of Officer Quirk’s pursuit, Mona skidded off the road and wrapped the Buick around a tree on Scumble River Road heading toward Kankakee. The old car didn’t have air bags and Mona wasn’t wearing her seat belt. She was dead before they reached the hospital.

The family grieved, but among themselves they agreed that it was probably for the best. They would try to remember Mona as she was, before trying to keep her secret had become a burden she could no longer shoulder.

A few days after her aunt’s death, Skye received a phone call from someone saying he was Miss Prynn’s great-nephew and he had a file that his aunt had asked him to hold for safekeeping. Skye’s name and number were on a slip of paper inside the folder, and he wanted to know if she still wanted it.

She said no.

Epilogue

It was the second Saturday in September, and school had been back in session for a couple of weeks. As promised, Simon had not called. It had been a sad summer. Skye sat at the counter peeling apples and watching May make applesauce. “Mom, we’ve never really talked about what happened with Aunt Mona. Would you rather I had left things alone?”

May didn’t answer for a while. She finally turned from the stove. “I still miss Mona. She wasn’t always like that. She was so smart. We thought for sure she would go to college and have a career.”

“Do you know why she didn’t?”

“Neal started to court her during her senior year in high school. He was a couple years older and already a successful farmer.” May stirred silently for a few seconds. “I think maybe Dad pressured Mona into marrying Neal. I know he always said he wasn’t paying for any of us girls to go to college.”

“I had no idea. My image of Mona is so different from that.” Skye closed her eyes. “I don’t remember ever seeing her without her guard up.”

“Mona used to be such fun. She loved shopping with me for your baby clothes. She loved taking care of you and dressing you up.”

“I don’t recall her spending any time with me.”

“She stopped when she found out she couldn’t have children. After that she changed. Appearances and possessions became everything to her. Everyone had to envy her or she wasn’t happy.” May wiped away a tear. “And Neal didn’t like her to spend much time with her family.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t think we were good enough.”

Skye and May worked in silence for a while. Finally Skye said, “You didn’t answer my question. Would you rather I’d left things alone?”

May stopped stirring. “No, I guess some things just can’t be swept under the rug. That’s what happened with Mona, really. Dad wanted to keep everything hidden.”

“Secrets will destroy any family.” Skye concentrated on peeling an apple without breaking the spiral of skin.

“I suppose so.” May added sugar to the sliced apples in the pan. “That’s why Minnie and I decided to confront Dante.”

Skye was halfway through without breaking off the skin. “So you weren’t surprised to learn that Uncle Dante and the lawyer were skimming off some of Grandma’s money?”

“Not really. I think we all knew he was up to something. He spent so much more money than the rest of us. Even Mom knew. But it was always on farm equipment he used for the estate, so we could tell ourselves it wasn’t really stealing. Another family secret no one wanted to face.” May sprinkled cinnamon into the mixture.

“Hugo’s been very quiet lately about the advantages of selling Grandma’s land to a developer,” Skye said.

“Your dad and Emmett had a talk with him and that Castleview guy. I think that settled Hugo’s hash. They made both of them see we would never sell the land for a housing development.” May turned the burner down to let the applesauce simmer.

“Look, I got one off without breaking it.” Skye held up the ribbon of bright red skin.

“Good, now drop it on the counter and it will form the initial of the man you’re going to marry.” May leaned over to get a better view.

Skye let the peel slide between her fingers. “I can’t tell what letter it looks like.”

May stepped closer. “It’s an R, of course, for Reid.” Even though May knew that Skye and Simon had broken up last June, May never gave up on a prospective son-in-law.

Skye tilted her head and looked at the red skin. She could see how her mom thought it looked like an R, but to her it kind of looked like a B for Boyd or maybe even a K. Didn’t that new English teacher’s name start with a K?

Following is a preview of the next

Scumble River mystery

Murder of a Sleeping Beauty

coming from Signet in 2002.

CHAPTER 1

From Bad to Hearse

As a school psychologist, Skye Denison had dealt with many recalcitrant teens, but Justin Boward would be the death of her yet. He refused to talk. She was beginning to think his entire vocabulary consisted of yes, no, and the occasional grunt. Although she knew that adolescents were the same as cats—neither reacted when you spoke to them—his lack of response to her attempts to draw him out was starting to make her feel like a failure. A feeling she was way too familiar with already.

Two years ago Skye had been forced to crawl back to Scumble River, Illinois, after finding herself fired, jilted, and broke. It had been hard enough to return to the rural Midwestern town she had escaped as a teenager, but the citizens’ long memories had made it even worse. Hardly a week went by without someone reminding Skye of what she had said twelve years ago in her valedictorian speech. Back then, the moment the words had left her mouth, she’d regretted saying that Scumble River was full of small-minded people with even smaller intellects. She had regretted it even more since she’d moved back home.

She sneaked a peek at her watch as she pushed a stray chestnut curl under her headband. It was twenty-five minutes before the Scumble River High School dismissal bell would ring. Once again, she attempted to make eye contact with the teen seated kitty-corner from her at the small trapezoidal table. He ducked his head and studied his chewed fingernails. Justin had not spoken three words to her in their fifteen minutes together. Skye searched her mind for some pithy comment.

Before she could think of what to say, a girl she vaguely recognized flung the door open and stumbled inside. The girl bent over, trying to catch her breath, and spoke between gasps. “Sleeping Beauty is dead.”

“What?” Was this teen speak for: Run, the cops are here? Was she supposed to answer: The gray wolf howls at midnight? Skye’s emerald-green eyes raked the adolescent, who was standing just past the office threshold, still-hunched over, hands on her knees. She was dressed in low-riding, wide-legged denims and a hooded belly top. Her bleached two-tone hair fell to the middle of her back, and her navel was pierced.

Skye quickly examined her mental file and decided that the girl probably hung with either the Rebels or the Skanks. Of Scumble River High’s five or six cliques, these were the two roughest. The Cheerleaders, the Jocks, and the Nerds had much more teacher-pleasing behavior. What was this girl up to?

The adolescent finally straightened and grabbed Skye by the wrist. “Something abhorrent has happened. You have to come right now. Hurry!”

Skye found herself half running, half being dragged down the long hall. Orange lockers went by in a blur, and the smell of that day’s lunch caught in her throat.

The teen skidded to a halt before the closed gym doors and pointed. “In there.”

“Who are you? And what are you talking about?”

“This is just FYI. I’m out of here.” The girl tried to push past Skye and head back down the corridor.

Skye grabbed the hood of her top. “Oh, no, you don’t. Explain.”

“Hey, Cujo! Back in your cage.” The teen twisted violently, trying to free herself. She turned an anger-filled stare on Skye, who met her gaze without blinking. Finally, the girl shrugged. “So, okay. I cut my eighth-period study hall, and I was hanging around here and there, waiting until my buds got out of school. I wanted a cigarette, and knew there was no PE last hour, so I went in the gym. It was dark. I thought I saw someone on the stage, so I went closer. That’s when I saw her. What’s her name? The cheer-leader playing Sleeping Beauty. She was lying there dead.”

The teen tried again to free herself. Skye refused to let go. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re staying with me. Let’s check this out. Sleeping Beauty was probably just rehearsing or taking a nap.” Under her breath she muttered, “Or maybe she was afraid of you.”

Side by side they entered the unlit gym. As her eyes adjusted, Skye could just make out the stage at the opposite end of the room. It held partially completed sets for the spring musical Sleeping Beauty. She moved forward, a firm grip on her prisoner’s hood. Half walls and skeletal trees loomed in the darkness. While they climbed the steps up to the stage, Skye wondered if she were doing the right thing. She didn’t think the faculty handbook covered this situation.

To their right, a mock castle bedroom had been set up. Lying on the twin bed was one of the most beautiful young women Skye had ever seen. Her straight blond hair brushed the floor, and her face was a flawless oval. She had passed from the awkwardness of adolescence and was yet to be touched by the hand of time. She was perfect.

Skye took a closer look at the young woman. Her skin had a waxy appearance and was almost blue-gray in color. Her lips and nails were pale. Skye rushed to the bed and checked for a pulse. She could feel nothing over the thud of her own heartbeat. She put her ear to the girl’s chest. Again nothing. Finally, she placed the back of her hand to the teen’s mouth. She wasn’t breathing.

Skye forced herself to remain calm and tried to remember what she had learned in her first aid course. Nothing applied to this situation. Sleeping Beauty was dead.