Body Over Troubled Waters

by Denise Swanson

  “Are you interested in the past?” Skye asked.

  If he was, she’d let his teacher know that he was keen on history. Finding a subject that he enjoyed might be good way to draw him into reading more. There were several companies that produced high-interest, age-appropriate biographies for struggling readers.

  “Yeah.” Tyson reassembled the cube. “I like to find out about people in the olden days. You know, how they lived and dressed.”

  “That would be fun to investigate.” Skye nodded, then asked, “Do you remember where in the cemetery you found the pocket watch?”

  “Let me think.” He played with the cube for a few seconds as he screwed up his face and chewed on his lips, then he snapped his fingers. “It was near the edge. Right by the trees that separate the houses from the graves. I saw something shiny and when I went over to see what it was, I saw the watch half-buried in the snow.”

  “Where do you have it now?” Skye leaned forward. “You must have hidden it really good since your parents couldn’t find it when they looked. Did you stash it somewhere here at school or outside?”

  “Nah.” Tyson shook his head. “I had a better spot. I put it in a plastic bag and buried it in the kitty litter.” He grinned. “It’s my job to clean Simba’s box so I knew they wouldn’t find it.”

  Skye made sure that her voice conveyed admiration. “Smart.”

  Kids like Tyson often took compliments as sarcasm. If they thought they were being patronized, they reacted poorly.

  “I guess.” He shrugged, his cheeks reddening. “But I have it with me now.”

  “I know you found it and all, but I’m going to need you to give it to me.” Skye held out her hand, hoping he wouldn’t make a big fuss about giving it up. “Someone must have lost it, and from the description, it sounds as if it’s been in their family for a long time.”

  Tyson stared at her without moving. His expression was defiant or maybe just unhappy.

  “I bet whoever misplaced it is really upset.” Skye kept her hand out.

  Tyson reached into the pocket of his hoodie, but before he pulled it out, he hesitated and grumbled, “I always heard that it was finders keepers, losers weepers. That’s what my dad always says when he brings something home from the landfill that he works at.”

  “Only if you can’t locate the true owner.” Skye’s mind raced for a solution. She didn’t want the situation to escalate to the point Neva had to get involved. “How about you choose one of these gadgets as a reward for finding the watch and turning it in?”

  “Can I have one for my friends Ray and Jeremy too?” Tyson bargained.

  “Absolutely.” Skye bought the fidget toys in bulk for less than six dollars apiece. “Hand me the watch and choose the ones you want.”

  Once the transaction was completed, Skye glanced at the time and said, “Yikes!” She jumped to her feet and motioned for him to follow her. “We have to get you back to your classroom ASAP. Lunch starts in two minutes and I know you don’t want to be late for that.”

  “I have one more question for you.” Tyson’s eyes sparkled with mischief and Skye braced herself. “I’ve been streaming Gilligan’s Island, and I can’t figure out why, if the professor can make a radio out of a coconut, he can’t fix a hole in the boat.”

  “Probably because that would have ended the show.” Skye grinned, then hurried Tyson down the hall.

  She gave his teacher a thumbs-up to indicate the watch issue had been resolved and returned to her office. She had twenty minutes before Neva would be available to be briefed on Tyson’s interview.

  The junior high principal always took the first lunch duty. It was a chore none of the other district principals chose to undertake in their schools, but something that Neva’s staff greatly admired.

  While Skye waited, she took out the baggie that she’d stashed in her purse. Dorothy had baked chocolate chip cookies and sent a couple in Skye’s lunch.

  While she finished her cherry limeade and munched on the cookies, she checked her phone. She frowned when she saw a text from Wally.

  He wanted her to call as soon as possible, so she tapped the icon. As the phone rang, she worried that something else bad had happened.

  Wally picked up on the third ring, and she asked, “Is everything all right?”

  After assuring her that nothing was wrong, Wally commented, “You’re starting to sound like your mother. Every unexpected call does not mean there’s been a disaster or that I have horrible news.”

  “Last time you called me during work was about Dr. Wraige’s murder,” Skye pointed out. “So I believe my concern is justified.”

  Wally chuckled and recapped his conversation with Dorothy and his interview with Karolyn, then said, “Any possibility you could sound out Neva regarding the assistant superintendent thing? Maybe find out if she still gets the job with Wraige dead.”

  “Hmm.” Skye swigged the last sip of her drink. “I’m meeting with her this afternoon and I’ll try to steer the conversation in that direction.”

  “Great. This must be what she meant when she told you Wraige would do what she wanted.” Wally paused, then added, “But what did the superintendent have on the school board? Maybe try to find out that too.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.” Skye rolled her eyes wondering how she’d get that out of Neva. “Any other miracles you’d like me to perform?”

  “Nothing comes to mind, but I’ll let you know,” Wally teased.

  They chatted for a few more minutes, then when Skye noticed it was time to go talk to Neva, she muttered a hasty goodbye and hung up.

  Rushing toward the door, Skye noticed that her chest was covered in cookie crumbs. That wouldn’t do.

  She returned to her desk, brushed off her sweater and put on some lipstick. Looking much more professional, she headed to the main office.

  With any luck, the principal would be so pleased that Skye had secured the pocket watch and gotten the story behind it, she’d be in a talkative mood. Otherwise, prying information out of Neva was about as tough as convincing Skye’s mother her grandbabies weren’t the smartest, most beautiful children on earth.

  Chapter 16

  Your Cheatin’ Heart

  Ursula Nelson, the junior high secretary, glanced up as Skye entered, then quickly became engrossed in her work, refusing to acknowledge Skye’s presence. Skye had been instrumental in revealing that Ursula’s nephew had been involved in criminal activity, and even though the woman knew the boy had been in the wrong, she wasn’t Skye’s number-one admirer. Or even number five hundred, for that matter.

  Skye tried to wait out Ursula’s silent treatment, but when the secretary continued to ignore, she finally cleared her throat and said, “Hi! Is Neva ready for me?”

  “Actually”—Ursula’s beetle-brown eyes flashed from under her prominent forehead and bored into Skye—“Ms. Llewellyn has been waiting for you.”

  “Didn’t she have lunch duty?” Checking the time, Skye moved toward the principal’s door. “The bell for the next period only rang a minute ago.”

  “Which is when she expected you,” Ursula snapped.

  Her clawlike fingers returned to scrabbling through the stack of index cards in front of her. She had flatly refused to convert to the district’s computer system and once a week someone else had to type in the information from the cards.

  “Right.”

  Ursula hunched over the white paper rectangles on the desktop. She leaned over and moved a pile closer; her long torso and beady eyes made her look like a crow protecting its eggs.

  Glancing up, Ursula waved her talon. “What are you standing there watching me do my job for? Go on in and do your own job.”

  Gritting her teeth to avoid a nasty comeback, Skye entered the principal’s office. Neva had redecorated when she took over from the last occupant, and the room had go
ne from resembling a sports bar to having the ambiance of a Victorian parlor.

  The athletic memorabilia that had decorated the space was gone, replaced with reproductions of paintings by Marie Spartali Stillman and Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale. The drab brown walls had been painted an attractive ballet pink and floral curtains now hung from the windows instead of utilitarian white metal blinds.

  Skye seated herself in a Queen Anne chair and faced Neva across a gleaming wooden desk. While she waited for the principal to look up from the file she was reading, Skye breathed in the pleasant odor of vanilla and lemon that wafted through the air from a silver bowl of potpourri residing on a small butterfly table positioned next to an antique rose velvet love seat.

  Neva straightened the sleeve of her wine-colored suit jacket and leaned forward. “How did your talk go with Tyson Howe?”

  “Very well.” Skye beamed, happy to have good news. “It took a bit to gain his trust, but once he relaxed, he was very cooperative.”

  “I’m a little surprised.” Neva frowned. “His teachers tell me he’s been extremely difficult to motivate ever since he’s moved here.”

  “Although I’m not shocked to hear that, it’s unfortunate.” Skye pursed her lips. “I suspect when we complete his upcoming re-eval, I’ll be adding him to my counseling caseload, either seeing him individually or in a group. A kid like Tyson, who’s bright but has a such a severe learning disability, needs help with his emotions, and most parents aren’t able to provide that assistance.”

  “When is his annual review?” Neva tapped a few keys and gazed at her computer monitor. “I don’t see him on this month’s schedule.”

  Skye took her appointment book out of her tote bag, flipped through it until she saw Tyson’s name, then ran her finger down the page. “I’m hoping to have everything finished for him before spring break.”

  “So, six more weeks?” Neva tapped a perfectly manicured nail on the desktop. “Is there a chance we can speed that up any?”

  “I’d have to move him to the top of the list.” Skye leafed through her planner. There were no openings. “Is that fair to the others that would be pushed back?”

  Neva considered Skye’s question for a few seconds, then asked, “Do you think any of the students who are presently scheduled ahead of him will require an alteration in placement or services?”

  “The teachers haven’t made me aware of any they feel might need changes,” Skye answered cautiously. “And I did just establish rapport with Tyson, so now would be a good time to test him.”

  “That’s an excellent point.” Neva tented her fingers. “Please make him your priority and inform the rest of the team of his new standing on the list.”

  “Will do.” Skye jotted down a note and put away her appointment book.

  “Now”—Neva folded her hands on the desktop—“tell me about the pocket watch.”

  Skye explained where and how the boy had found the watch, and once Neva had nodded her understanding, Skye continued, “Although Tyson didn’t steal it, I didn’t feel he should keep it.”

  “Why is that?” Neva drew her eyebrows together. “Didn’t you believe his story about finding the watch abandoned in the cemetery?”

  “I did.” Skye tilted her head. “But the watch appears to be an expensive family heirloom. It was most likely lost, not purposely discarded. Which is why I thought it best that we try to locate the owner.” Neva opened her mouth to respond, but Skye held up her palm to stop her. “I know it isn’t technically the school’s place to do that, but I felt it was a good lesson for Tyson to learn.”

  “Fine. I won’t stop you from pursuing this matter.” Neva gazed firmly at Skye. “But I expect you to handle that on your own time.”

  “Absolutely.” Skye nodded. “Should I talk to Tyson’s special ed teacher, or do you want to let her know the results of our talk?”

  “I’ll speak to Ms. Lawrence,” Neva answered. Then, when Skye didn’t get up, she raised a brow and asked, “Was there something else?”

  “I…” Skye stuttered to a stop. How in the world was she supposed to bring up the issue of the assistant superintendent position?

  “Yes?” Neva’s fair brows met above her nose, and she tilted her head.

  “I wanted to tell you I was sorry about Dr. Wraige’s unexpected passing,” Skye said carefully, hoping Neva would open up. “I know you and he worked closely together, so if you need to talk…”

  Neva stiffened, then seemed to force herself to relax and leaned back in her chair. “That’s very kind of you, but Shamus and I didn’t have a personal relationship, and our professional one was”—she paused—“let’s just say, cool at best.”

  “Oh.” Skye’s mind raced. How could she find out the information Wally requested? “I guess I assumed you were closer to the superintendent than that, because you told me you could get him to approve additional psych services in the next budget.”

  “One doesn’t have to be on friendly terms to influence the boss.” Neva’s smile was predatory. “In fact, often it’s better if there’s not that type of association.”

  “Really?” Skye encouraged. “I can’t see how that would work.”

  With Skye’s response, Neva’s forehead furrowed, then she seemed to realize she was probably revealing more than she had intended to divulge and hastily added, “Please keep this confidential, but Shamus and I had recently agreed that I would become the district’s assistant superintendent in the upcoming year.”

  “Congratulations!” Skye said. “Do you think Dr. Wraige’s death will influence your promotion at all? I mean, will his intention to create a new position be honored by the school board?”

  “It had better be.” Neva’s voice hardened. “I have a signed contract.”

  “That’s great.” Skye smiled, then mused, “I wonder how Dr. Wraige convinced the board to add an assistant superintendent to the staff?”

  Neva leaned forward. “I’m only guessing, but Shamus was good at exchanging favors with people. Favors that those individuals wouldn’t necessarily want made public.” She stood, walked around her desk, and waited for Skye to get to her feet, then continued. “And all it would take was the idea that Shamus might expose the fact that he’d pulled some strings for a board member and that board member would make sure Shamus got his way.”

  “Wouldn’t that hurt Dr. Wraige too?” Skye asked. “After all, he was the one who had used his influence to get special treatment.”

  Neva shook her head. “Shamus had a five-year contract. If he had to, he’d be able to retire with full benefits before he had to negotiate the next agreement.”

  “But board members have to run for election every four years.” Skye finished Neva’s explanation. “Wouldn’t it take more than one member to get a budget item like that passed by the board?”

  “Not really.” Neva shrugged as she and Skye walked out the door together.

  “How so?” Skye questioned. “They’d need a majority to vote yes.”

  “True.” Neva tapped Skye’s arm. “But you’d be surprised what one motivated man can do to influence the rest of the board members.”

  Once they were in the hallway, Neva headed toward the resource room and Skye went in the direction of her office. If Tyson’s reevaluation was being moved to the head of the line, she had to alert the rest of the team ASAP so they could adjust their schedules.

  After unlocking her door and settling behind her desk, Skye turned on her computer. While she waited for it to boot up, she took the pocket watch out from where she’d stashed it in her locked drawer.

  She hadn’t really looked at the piece of jewelry before, but since she was now tasked with finding the rightful owner, she spent time examining it. It was a beautiful pocket watch, and as Violet had indicated, definitely heavy enough to be real gold.

  Running her fingers over the intricately e
ngraved monogram on the watch’s back, she squinted until the image came into focus. She could just barely make out the word FORTITUDINE curved over the image of an arm holding a sword aloft. It looked like it might be a family crest. If so, there was a good chance that it might help her identify the owner.

  Three hours later, a shrill ringing of the bell yanked Skye out of the report she was writing. Blowing a curl out of her eyes, she looked at the time. It was three fifty and classes were over for the day.

  Or at least classes at the junior high were done. The district schools all got out at staggered times to allow maximum usage of the buses. Because so many of its students drove themselves, the high school ended earliest, at three twenty-five. The junior high was next, and the elementary was last at four fifteen.

  The same was true in the morning with the high school staring at seven fifty, the junior high at eight fifteen, and the grade school at eight forty. Which was fine, except for the itinerant staff like the nurse, speech pathologist, and Skye.

  The pupil personnel services staff served all three buildings and frequently began their day at one and ended at the other. This often resulted in them working longer than any of the other employees.

  During their last contract negotiations, Skye, Belle, and Abby had banded together and managed to get their expected hours in writing. This new clause replaced the sentence that obligated them to follow the school’s schedule.

  None of them were able to completely adhere to their contracted hours. However, they had all agreed to make an effort to do so.

  Given that Skye had had a seven-fifteen meeting at the elementary school, she was entitled to leave at three forty-five. She’d already stayed a few minutes over and hurriedly backed up her document, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door.

  Just as she slid into her SUV, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly checked and saw that it was a text from Dorothy that the twins didn’t go down for their afternoon nap until late. The housekeeper warned Skye to be prepared for the babies schedule to be off that evening.