Body Over Troubled Waters

by Denise Swanson

  “The judge indicated that you need evidence that suggests one of the occupants was involved in the crime you’re investigating,” the lawyer answered. “Right now, everything points toward a random burglary, which gives us no due cause to search the residence.”

  “Okay.” Wally ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll contact you if I come up with anything you can use to get the warrant. Oh, and see if you can get the contents of the vic’s will released to us.”

  Once he disconnected, Wally looked at his cell to see if Skye had responded to his message, but there was nothing. He checked the time.

  It wasn’t even nine o’clock. She was probably still in her meeting.

  A quick glance at the afternoon and midnight shifts’ reports revealed that nothing out of the ordinary had happened during those sixteen hours. After filing the papers away, Wally rose to his feet and went downstairs.

  Informing Thea that he was going to the school district administration building, he proceeded to the garage and headed over to the superintendent’s office. He’d kill two birds with one stone. Conduct the search and find out what Karolyn knew about Neva Llewelyn’s frequent meetings with Wraige.

  As he drove, Wally thought about Karolyn Kline’s seductive behavior. During most of his adulthood, depending on his marital status, Wally’s attitude toward flirtatious females ranged from amiable tolerance to mild interest.

  But once Skye came back into his life and then into his arms, other women’s attentions just became an annoyance. Wally knew that his wife was still insecure about her curvier than socially acceptable figure, and he was always afraid that she would be upset when those ladies came on to him.

  It wasn’t that Skye didn’t trust him. It was more that she had to endure the gossip about her husband caused by those predatory females. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her, but sometimes the matter was out of his control.

  Even if he expressed no interest whatsoever, the rumor mills in Scumble River would ensure that Skye was made aware of the encounter. And occasionally, the women who were unsuccessful in their attempts to flirt with him would be so incensed that he ignored them, they would out-and-out lie about the incident. Skye wouldn’t believe their stories, but others would.

  Sad to say, he suspected that Karolyn would fall into the group of women who didn’t take being snubbed by men very well. Which meant getting information from her would be tricky.

  Thankfully, her alibi had checked out and he didn’t have to deal with her as a suspect. He had assigned Anthony to verify Karolyn’s call list and she’d been on the phone almost continuously during time of death window.

  Wally was still planning his strategy when he arrived at the admin building. After parking the car, he entered and found Karolyn reading a novel.

  She hastily stashed the book out of sight and purred, “Chief, what brings you back here so soon? Do you need my help again?”

  “I do.” Wally had decided to attempt the delicate feat of being friendly without stepping over the line. “I have a warrant to search this office, but before I do, I’m hoping you can give me some information.”

  “If I can,” she cooed and waved at the two visitor chairs. “Have a seat.”

  Wally sat down and took out his memo pad. “I heard that Neva Llewellyn had been having several meetings a week with Dr. Wraige. And I believe that the frequency of those meetings was unusual.”

  Karolyn rose, walked around her desk and perched on the edge so that her knees were nearly touching Wally’s. “That’s correct.”

  Wally forced himself to remain where he was instead of following his instinct to move his chair back and maintain his personal space. “Do you have any idea what Neva and Wraige were discussing?”

  “Well…” Karolyn leaned forward so the deep V of her tight purple sweater gapped, putting her considerable cleavage on display.

  “Yes?” Wally prompted, keeping his gaze firmly on Karolyn’s eyes.

  Frustration flickered across her face, and she flipped her long red hair off her shoulders, then shrugged. “I can’t remember what I was going to say.”

  Smothering his irritation, Wally forced some warmth into his voice and said, “You were about to tell me what Neva and Wraige discussed.”

  “Right.” Karolyn shifted, crossing her legs. Her hemline slid up her thigh, revealing the lacy tops of thigh-high stockings. After a solid minute, she pulled her skirt down and continued. “As you can see, my desk is only steps away from Dr. Wraige’s office, so even though his door was closed, when they raised their voices, I couldn’t help but hear some of what they said.”

  “Of course you couldn’t.” Wally nodded encouragingly. “And what was it they were discussing?”

  “Neva wanted Dr. Wraige to appoint her assistant superintendent. She’d just about finished with her PhD and needed experience for her résumé in order to apply for superintendent’s positions in other districts.”

  “And Dr. Wraige refused?” Wally frowned and jotted down a note to himself to talk to the junior high principal.

  “Not at first. She was all set to start in the fall.” Karolyn’s hazel eyes sparkled. “But evidently, Neva reneged on her part of the bargain.”

  “Which was?” Wally had a good idea but wanted it confirmed.

  “She was supposed to sleep with him.” Karolyn’s mouth twisted in disgust. “And people talked about me. I didn’t screw for a paycheck. I did it because he was different. I liked that he took charge and made me do what he wanted. The guys around here are too nice.”

  “I see.” Wally tucked that bit info into his mental file and resolved to be extra nice to Karolyn since that wasn’t what she liked. “Then Neva was out of luck?”

  “Nope.” Karolyn leaned even closer and Wally almost choked on her heavy perfume. “It was Shamus who was out of luck. Neva recorded his job-for-sex offer and threated to make it public if he didn’t make her assistant superintendent. She had something else on him, too, but I never managed to catch exactly what it was. They were still hashing out the details of her new position when he died.”

  Chapter 15

  The Cupid Shuffle

  The parent conference at the elementary school scheduled for seven fifteen to eight fifteen that morning had gone on and on. Instead of the hour Skye had allotted for the meeting, it hadn’t ended until eight forty. And only then because the kids arrived to start their day, which meant the teachers had to get to their classes.

  Now, dodging both students and staff, Skye flew down the hall leading to the exit, praying that none of the teachers would stop her to chat or ask for her assistance with anything. It was difficult to explain to anyone who was assigned to a single building that she had to split her time equally among all of the district’s schools and she absolutely couldn’t be late for her next appointment.

  Having only one supervisor, most of the faculty couldn’t conceive of the delicate balancing act it took for Skye to appease her trio of bosses, especially, with two of the three being über competitive with each other.

  Thank goodness for Carolyn! The elementary principal was the only one Skye’s principals who didn’t see a cancelation or a skipped day at her school as a hideous insult to her personally and to her building.

  Thoughts of Neva’s displeasure at having already waited twenty-four hours for the boy with the suspicious pocket watch to be interviewed had Skye increasing her speed to an all-out sprint. Patience wasn’t the junior high principal’s strong suit. Neither was accepting excuses.

  On the bright side, the parents that she and the grade school team had been working with for the past three years had finally agreed to having their son, Larson, evaluated. The boy had been struggling academically since the second semester of kindergarten, but his dad had always insisted that his son would catch up with his peers and had resisted all recommendations for testing.

 
Ultimately, Larson’s father had had to acknowledge that his child was falling further and further behind the other students. It probably helped that his son’s behavior had become defiant and unruly at home rather than just at school.

  Happy that Larson would now have a chance to get the help he urgently needed, Skye slid behind the wheel of her Mercedes and immediately unzipped the insulated bag waiting for her on the passenger seat. She pulled on her seat belt with one hand and unwrapped her sandwich with the other.

  Although it was super early for lunch, she’d skipped breakfast and this was probably her only chance to eat until late afternoon. Biting into the BLT, she decided to call it brunch.

  Thankful that Dorothy insisted on packing a lunch for both her and Wally, Skye took a second to enjoy the homemade bread and crispy bacon. When her husband had first insisted on special ordering the breakfast meat from a company in Texas, she had thought he was being extravagant, but she had to admit there was a definite difference between it and the package she usually picked up at the supermarket.

  Chewing slowly to savor the flavor, she drove the short distance to the junior high. It was a shame that the tomato and lettuce were what you would expect for February in Illinois, but the rest of the sandwich was delicious.

  As she pulled into the school’s parking lot, Skye’s thoughts turned to the reason that her morning conference had ended later than planned. Usually, it would have been a tardy parent throwing off her schedule, but this time it was Carolyn Greer, the elementary principal, who caused the delay.

  Afterward, she’d explained to Skye that she and the other two principals had been summoned by the school board to a meeting at the administration building. They had been informed that district superintendent had been murdered and instructed to send out notices via email, text, and/or letters to the parents informing them of Dr. Wraige’s death and asking them to break the news to their children.

  Skye had asked if Carolyn wanted her to do crisis intervention with the students. Carolyn had declined her offer, telling Skye that there would be no formal announcement at any of the schools, and all three principals doubted the students would need intercessions since so few had any contact, let alone any relationship, with the superintendent.

  Still, Skye was glad that last night, once Wally had given her the green light to reveal Dr. Wraige’s death, she’d contacted Piper, alerting her to the situation. There was always the off chance that the kids might already be aware of Dr. Wraige’s death when they got to school the next morning and even if they didn’t know him very well, some students could experience difficulties with the idea of any adult authority figure passing away.

  Skye had instructed Piper to review the crisis plan and be prepared to act with or without Skye’s presence. Although, of course, she could call Skye to help if she felt overwhelmed.

  So far, she hadn’t heard anything from Piper, who was at the high school, and as Skye arrived at the junior high and checked in, she crossed her fingers. But there were no messages in her box, and the school secretary didn’t even look up when she greeted her.

  So far, so good. Blowing out a thankful breath, Skye headed to her office. It was such a relief not to have to deal with any crises that would force her to change her plans to talk to the pocket watch boy.

  Entering the room, Skye smiled at the upgraded space. The new arrangement allowed her to do her job so much better than the smelly closet she’d been stuck in for the past seven years.

  Using part of her furnishings budget and some of her own money, she’d created an inviting counseling nook. The room had been painted a soothing aqua blue, the broken blinds had been removed from the windows and replaced with white woven shades, and a comfy gray tweed love seat now resided on an area rug with two coordinating chairs facing it. A sturdy coffee table between them completed the inviting area.

  After locking her purse in the bottom desk drawer, Skye took out a few fidget toys. Occupying his hands with something fun should help Tyson relax while they talked. Satisfied that she was ready, she went to fetch the young man from his classroom.

  Violet Lawrence, Tyson’s special education teacher, was expecting her, and as soon as she spotted Skye at the door, Violet sent Tyson out into the hallway. He slipped out of the classroom and slouched against the wall.

  He was small for his age, appearing closer to twelve then fourteen and wore jeans along with a gray hoodie. As Skye greeted him, he kept his hands in the sweatshirt’s front pockets and his gaze on the floor.

  Skye introduced herself, then, inviting him to walk with her, she said, “Ms. Lawrence asked that I chat with you, but I promise you’ll be back in time for lunch.”

  “Okay.” His voice was monotone and his face expressionless.

  When they got her office, Skye opened the door and waited for him to step inside, then said, “Do you have any idea what she might want me to talk to you about?”

  Tyson shrugged, then like most students she brought here, he headed straight for the large aquarium against the rear wall. It took some work to maintain, but it was worth the trouble because it helped the kids feel comfortable.

  Skye studied him as he watched the colorful fish. He seemed mesmerized by their languid movements.

  As she joined him at the tank, she said, “See that big blue fish?” When he nodded, Skye continued, “It’s a neon blue discus. It’s my favorite.”

  Tyson looked at her, suspicion glinting in his eyes. “Why is he your favorite?”

  “Because, although he’s a little harder to take care of due to his special needs, he’s worth it.” She waited, allowing Tyson to digest what she’d said, then asked, “Would you like a flavored water?”

  “That would be awesome.” Tyson turned away from the aquarium.

  Skye smiled to herself at his sudden change in attitude. It was truly amazing with the offer food or drink could do to build rapport.

  Tyson followed Skye to the mini fridge that she’d installed behind her desk. It was another purchase that she’d squeezed into the refurbishing budget, although she bought the refreshments she kept inside.

  “Black raspberry, cherry limeade, orange mango, or kiwi strawberry?”

  “Orange mango.” He pointed to the one he wanted. “Is it fizzy?”

  “It is.” Skye grabbed two bottles—she was thirsty, too—then led Tyson to the counseling nook. After he sat down on the couch, she handed him his drink and took the chair facing him. “Have you thought about why Ms. Lawrence might want me to talk to you?”

  “Uh…” Tyson twisted open the cap on his bottle and took a long swig. “It might be about that watch. But it was Ray’s, not mine.”

  “Ms. Lawrence was pretty sure you said it was yours.” Skye sipped her cherry limeade, then said, “Unless you stole it, you’re not in trouble. And even if you did take it, I’m sure we can fix this.”

  “I didn’t steal it!” Tyson shouted, then shrank back against the sofa cushions as if afraid that she’d punish him for yelling.

  Skye ignored his outburst; instead, she smiled at him and said, “That’s great. We didn’t think you would do that.” She waited for him to relax, then added, “All we want to know is where you got it.”

  “It’s not mine.” Tyson thrust out his bottom lip and reverted back to his original defense. “I told you that it’s Ray’s.”

  “Hmm.” Skye put down her drink. It was time to stop this line of questioning for a while and circle back around later. She picked up a blue-and-green tangle toy and offered it to Tyson. “Have you ever tried one of these?”

  He gingerly took the smooth plastic knot. “What do you do with it?”

  “I just like to twist and bend it.” Skye chose the orange-and-yellow one and demonstrated. “It’s sort of like looking at the fish. It helps me calm down and think through things more easily.”

  As Tyson manipulated the twisty plastic,
Skye saw his shoulders loosen and his breathing become less agitated. He’d come into their school diagnosed with a learning disability, but she suspected he also suffered from anxiety, something she wanted to look into during his upcoming reevaluation. Most likely, his severe processing deficits made the school environment feel overwhelming and she wanted to see if he would be eligible for counseling or maybe her eighth-grade boys group.

  “Can I ask you something?” Tyson stole a glance at her before returning his gaze to the toy.

  “Sure.”

  “Since bread is square, how come bologna is round?” He frowned. “They know we’re going to put it in a sandwich, right?”

  “I don’t really know the answer to that, but my best guess is that it’s cheaper to make in that shape.”

  “Hmm.” He nodded. “It’s always about the money, isn’t it?”

  “Not always.” Skye wondered where that response had come from. “But you’re right, it is a lot of the time.”

  She waited several minutes until he was absorbed in the tangle again, then said, “We really need to know where you got the watch.”

  Without looking up from the brightly colored toy, Tyson blew out an annoyed breath, then seemed to realize he wasn’t getting away with the lie about his friend, and muttered, “I found it.”

  “Where?” Skye had learned that the less she said—single-word responses were best—the more likely the kids would keep talking.

  “The graveyard south of town. The one out by all those rich people’s houses.” Tyson glanced at her, then put down the fidget toy.

  “How did you get all the way out there?” Skye asked, handing him an Infinity Cube.

  According to his file he lived on the opposite end of Scumble River. That put him a good five miles from the cemetery.

  “I rode my bike.” Tyson examined the silver gadget. “I like looking at all the old tombstones.” He flipped the cube and it opened. “Did you know they have people buried there that were born in the 1700s? And the names are really cool too. Like Lettice and Ibot.”