Dead Blondes Tell No Tales

by Denise Swanson

  Bunny, a bright note of query in her brown eyes, questioned, “How many makes it wholesale?”

  “Six or more.”

  Skye was afraid to find out why Bunny wanted to know the exact number; instead, forestalling further inquiries from Bunny, she hastily asked Wally, “What happened when you told Ruby to get out of the car?”

  “She stomped on the accelerator and roared off.” A scowl twisted Wally’s handsome features. “I was originally just going to give her a warning and tell her to get out of town. I thought she was probably a prostitute getting ready to set up shop around here, and I wanted to make sure she knew that would be a bad idea.”

  “You thought Ruby was a prostitute?” Bunny yelped.

  Wally gave the huffy woman a level look. “She drives a bright pink Cadillac, has a backseat full of sex toys, and is dressed straight out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog. You add it up.”

  Bunny’s gaze was defiant, and she sullenly flicked imaginary lint from her tiger-patterned velour top, but for once she kept quiet.

  Wally went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I pursued her with lights and siren. She drove several blocks, then illegally parked in front of the bowling alley and ran inside.”

  Bunny flicked a sidelong glance at Skye. “Ruby had only been here a minute or two, and we were hugging when he”—she paused dramatically and pointed an accusing finger at Wally—“burst through the doors, grabbed her, and slapped handcuffs on her.”

  “Which is when she”—Wally jerked his thumb at Bunny—“grabbed the Styrofoam bowling pin from the window display and started to hit me.” He brushed at a stray white pellet clinging to his navy uniform pants. “I should arrest her for assaulting an officer.”

  “But you won’t,” Skye coaxed. “After all, you’d look pretty silly charging a middle-aged woman with assault by plastic bowling pin.”

  “Who are you calling middle-aged?” Bunny challenged.

  “I’ll let it go this time, but she needs to watch it,” Wally declared, ignoring Bunny.

  “So what will you do now?” Skye asked, also ignoring the redhead.

  “Obviously Ruby will have to come back for her car. I’ll nab her when she does.” He put his hand on the door and added, his expression stern, “And you two better let me know if she turns up.”

  Bunny sketched a cross on her chest and said, “I promise.”

  Skye rolled her eyes, then gave Wally a “what can you do?” look.

  After he left, Skye said to Bunny, “Do you want to call Simon and fill him in, or shall I?”

  “We don’t really need to bother Sonny Boy, do we?” Bunny wheedled.

  “Yes, we do. You or me?”

  Bunny heaved a put-upon sigh. “I’ll do it.”

  “That would be best,” Skye said, then went back to the storeroom. She needed to finish sorting out the mess in there, since she had a feeling she’d have a new mess concerning Ruby and Bunny to sort out in the near future.

  Chapter 3

  The Case of the Disappearing Blonde

  “Okay, where is she?” As soon as Bunny called him at the funeral home, Simon had hurried over to the bowling alley.

  His mother was preparing her monologue as emcee for Monday night’s talent show and didn’t raise her eyes from her clipboard. Tuesday was Team Trivia, Wednesday was karaoke, Thursday afternoon they were having an Easter-egg hunt, and Friday’s Marilyn Monroe look-alike contest would cap off the alley’s Spring Break Bash. “I told you, I don’t know.”

  Simon looked over at Skye, who was draping the stage with pink, purple, and yellow bunting. “Do you have any ideas?”

  She stapled a fold of cloth to the side of the wall and tried to think where a six-foot-tall, two-hundred-pound blonde, dressed in red capri pants and a matching halter, could hide. “Wally looked in all the obvious places, but if she was married to a magician, Ruby might be able to fit into smaller spaces than we thought.”

  “She’s double-jointed, too,” Bunny contributed. “And her third—no, fourth husband was a contortionist.”

  Skye cringed. She could tell Simon was nearing the end of his patience. His usually crisply styled auburn hair was standing in spikes like the crown on the Statue of Liberty, and the lines radiating from his golden-hazel eyes were not caused by laughter.

  She spoke quickly to divert his attention from his mother. “Let’s think about this logically. We were standing by the entrance. There are lockers on one side of us, and the coatrack and bathrooms on the other. If Ruby had left through the door, we would have heard the swooshing sound it makes, so she had to have gone either right or left.”

  “The lockers are only two-feet-by-two-feet cubes, so there’s no way she could have fit in one of those, contortionist or not,” Simon said, shrugging off his charcoal-gray suit coat and hanging it on the back of a chair.

  Skye set down the staple gun and went over to him. “Then it has to be the bathrooms, but we checked them.”

  “Even the men’s room,” Bunny added.

  “Let’s look again.” Simon rolled up the sleeves of his buttercup-yellow shirt.

  As they approached the bathrooms, Skye examined the area carefully, but could see no trace of the missing blonde. Of course, by now the woman could be in Chicago or points south; nearly an hour had elapsed since she had disappeared. Skye wisely refrained from pointing this out to Simon, who did not seem in the mood to receive helpful observations.

  Having inspected the men’s lavatory and found nothing, Bunny, Skye, and Simon crowded into the ladies’ room. To their right a sink, soap dispenser, and paper-towel machine hugged the wall. To their left were two stalls. There was no sign of any recent occupation.

  Skye let her gaze wander, starting at the floor and traveling slowly upward. Suddenly she gasped and pointed to the ceiling. A telltale swatch of red spandex clung to the white acoustic tile.

  Simon left the room to fetch a chair from the bar. He returned, loosened his tie, and climbed on. He pushed the white acoustic tile aside and poked his head into the opening. Less than a second later he descended and said, “She was there, all right. The dust’s been disturbed, and there’s another sliver of red cloth caught on one of the struts. But she’s gone now.”

  “At least we know where she hid.” Skye took his arm as they all moved out of the bathroom. “I was beginning to think she really had vanished into thin air.”

  “That’s right.” Simon squeezed Skye’s hand. “And she can’t have gotten far without her car.”

  Bunny grinned, sitting back down and picking up her clipboard. “You never know. Ruby’s very resourceful. You should hear about the scrapes she used to get us out of when we were in the big show together at the Golden Nugget.”

  “It’s too frightening to contemplate.” Simon looked at his mother through narrowed eyes.

  “Don’t tell me one of her husbands was also a car thief.”

  “No, but she dated a cop who worked the stolen-vehicle squad.” Bunny’s voice was dreamy. “That man could pick a lock and hot-wire a Corvette faster than a professional car thief.”

  Simon heaved a sigh, then headed to the bar. “I need a drink. Anyone else want something?”

  Before either Skye or Bunny could respond, a throaty voice from the doorway said, “I’ll take a martini, straight up, two olives. Don’t be stingy with the vodka. It’s been quite a day.”

  “Ruby!” Bunny catapulted out of her chair and embraced her friend. “Are you okay?” Her voice was muffled in Ruby’s cleavage, since Bunny was a good seven inches shorter than the blonde.

  “I’m fine. I was just over at the police station straightening things out with that gorgeous police chief. Sorry if you were worried.” Ruby squeezed Bunny back and then zeroed in on Simon. “Don’t tell me this handsome man is Sonny Boy.”

&nbs
p; He shot his mother a dirty look before holding out his hand. “I prefer Simon, and you must be Ruby . . . ?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about last names. When you’ve had as many as I have, you sort of lose track.” Ruby moved closer to Simon, ignoring the hand he held out and instead enveloping him in a smothering hug. “Bunny, you never told me Scumble River was so full of good-looking men.”

  Skye had been standing to the side, watching the proceedings. Now she made a mental note to ask Wally what last name appeared on Ruby’s driver’s license.

  Simon had managed to wiggle out of Ruby’s grasp—no easy task, since the blonde was a whole lot of woman, and he clutched Skye’s hand like a lifeline. “This is my girlfriend, Skye Denison.”

  Ruby answered, “We’ve met, although not under the best circumstances.” She took Skye’s chin in her fingers and examined her face. “You’re developing a couple of impressive shiners. Remind me to give you some makeup I’ve got that will cover them up.” She peered at Simon from beneath her lashes and drawled, “We don’t want everyone in town thinking Sonny Boy beats you.”

  Simon made a noise deep in his throat, but before he could respond, Bunny tugged her friend away and settled her into a chair. “It’s so good to see you. Tell me what everyone has been up to since I left.”

  “Well, Benny’s back in jail.” Ruby dangled a high-heeled red sandal from her toe and leaned back. “Although hopefully not for long.”

  Simon followed the two women and sat down. “Before you start catching up, I have just a couple of questions.”

  “Oh?” Ruby’s eyes were guarded.

  “Bunny, were you expecting Ruby?”

  “Sure. She called a couple or so days ago and said she was driving up from Vegas to visit me. I told her it was perfect timing because of the Spring Break Bash. Ruby does a great Marilyn Monroe impression. She’ll be the star of our show Friday night.”

  “I see.” A line appeared between Simon’s eyebrows, but he kept his expression pleasant. “Ruby, what made you decide to visit right now? It can’t be our great weather.”

  “Just wanted to see my friend Bunny.”

  “Bunny said you own your own business. Was it hard to get someone to take care of your store while you’re gone?”

  Ruby waved her hand. “I had to shut it down. I lost the lease on the building. That’s why I had the leftover merchandise in my car when Chief Boyd stopped me.”

  “That’s too bad. What will you do now?”

  “I’m not going to worry about that.” She shrugged. “Something will turn up. It always does.” She squeezed Bunny’s hand. “And with the store closed, I have time to travel and visit friends.”

  Bunny elbowed Simon in the side. “If you’re through interrogating us, maybe you could fix Ruby that martini she asked for, and I’d like a—”

  “Coke.” Simon cut her off. Bunny had come to Scumble River addicted to prescription pain medication after hurting her back. She had gotten caught trying to use a fake prescription, and as part of her probation she wasn’t supposed to consume any narcotics or alcohol.

  “Right, a Coke.” Bunny jutted her chin out. “That’s what I was going to ask for before you interrupted me.”

  Simon and Skye exchanged glances. His mother always meant well, but somehow she invariably managed to get into predicaments that other people avoided. Bunny was trouble waiting to happen.

  “Just one more question.” Simon stared at Ruby, unmoved by his mother’s irritation. “How did you fix things with Chief Boyd? From what I heard, he sounded extremely angry.”

  Ruby’s tone was offhand, but her gaze was sharp. “He and I understand each other.”

  “So if I call him, he’ll tell me everything is fine with you?”

  “Yes.” Ruby examined her manicure. “You know, lack of trust is not an attractive trait in a man.”

  Skye noticed Simon’s jaw tightening, so she took his hand and tugged him toward the bar before he could respond. There really was nothing more he could do unless he wanted to call his mother’s friend a liar, which she was afraid might be exactly what he was about to do. His and Bunny’s mother-son relationship was still too fragile to withstand an affront like that.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Skye whispered to Simon, “Do you believe her?”

  “Not for a second.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “First I’m going to talk to Wally, and if he hasn’t got any answers, I’ll call a friend of mine in Las Vegas. It’s surprising what funeral directors hear.”

  Skye could believe it. Both she and Simon dealt with the public during very emotional times in their lives, and often they were told things they’d rather not know. “I’ll keep my ears open here. I have a feeling Ruby will eventually let something or other slip.”

  “No doubt.” Simon poured vodka into a chrome shaker. “Why do you think she’s here?”

  “My guess is she got into some trouble in Las Vegas, and decided to hide out here until things cool off.”

  “I hope it’s not something illegal. Try to find out who Benny is, and why he’s in jail.” Simon picked up the martini and the glass of Coke and carried them to the two women across the room. “Here you go, ladies.” He put his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I’ve got to get back to the funeral home. There’s a viewing tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow. You two try and stay out of trouble.”

  Skye accompanied him to the front door. He kissed her and traced a gentle finger over her cheek. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask earlier how you were feeling.”

  “My face hurts, but I’ll be fine.” Skye grimaced. “I just wish I didn’t look like a raccoon.”

  “But you’re the cutest little raccoon in Stanley County.” He kissed her again and added, “Keep an eye on them. Ruby’s up to something, and I don’t trust Bunny not to get involved. You know how easily led astray she is.”

  Chapter 4

  Much Ado About Blondes

  “I hear one of that woman’s trampy friends is in town.” Skye’s mother, May, didn’t look up from the stove as she stirred a water-and-flour mixture into the meat drippings. This was a delicate operation. A lapse in concentration could mean lumps in the gravy, an occurrence not allowed in May’s kitchen.

  Skye shook out the tablecloth and carefully made sure it hung evenly before answering. Her mother had taken an instant aversion to Bunny, which was both unusual and awkward: unusual, in that May generally liked everyone, and awkward, since Skye was dating Bunny’s son. Skye just counted her blessings that Ruby’s makeup seemed to work, and so far her mother had not noticed the bruises she had acquired from the morning’s umbrella incident. May would really have it in for Bunny if she knew that she had physically harmed Skye, even unintentionally.

  “If by ‘that woman’ you mean Bunny,” Skye said, “then yes, there is someone visiting her, but how can you pronounce someone a tramp when you’ve never even met her?”

  May poured a smooth stream of dark brown gravy into the china boat and set it on the counter. She selected a knife from the drawer and started to carve the roast. “Because I saw those awful things Wally had to get rid of.” May was a police, fire, and emergency dispatcher. She normally worked weekday afternoons.

  “Why were you working on a Sunday?” Skye tried to distract May. Chatting about sex aids with her mother was not something she was eager to do.

  “Pat’s grandson was being baptized, and she needed the day off.”

  Oops! The issue of babies was another subject Skye attempted to avoid discussing with her mother. May’s fondest wish was for Skye to marry and produce a few grandchildren. As she searched for a safe topic of conversation, Skye centered a plate in front of a chair, aligning the knife and spoon on the paper napkin to the right and the fork to the left.

  But May was to
o quick for her. “You know, Pat’s daughter is only twenty-four. That’s nearly ten years younger than you.” Apparently, May assumed Skye’s math skills might not be up to the challenge of subtraction.

  Skye ignored her mother’s dig and asked quickly, “Does Wally have any idea who might have broken into the bowling alley Saturday night?”

  “No.” May opened the oven door, and the intoxicating scent of freshly baked bread seeped into the room.

  Skye was thankful that the low-carb craze had not reached Scumble River.

  “He thinks it must be kids.” May pulled out a tray of Parker House rolls, and set it on a wire rack. “That woman has been really strict about keeping teenagers out of the bar area of the bowling alley, and one of them is probably mad at her.”

  “I wish you’d call her Bunny.” Skye finished setting the table and started putting the food out.

  May sniffed. “Bunny is not a Christian name.”

  “And Skye is?”

  “That’s different. Skye is a family name, as you well know, missy.”

  “Then call her Mrs. Reid.”

  “No. She hasn’t earned that name.” May shook her head. “You have to stick around and take care of your husband and children to earn the title of missus.”

  Skye opened her mouth to suggest May call Bunny “Ms. Reid,” but snapped it shut without speaking. She already knew her mother’s opinion of the word “miz,” and it wasn’t positive.

  May looked over the table.

  Skye stood at attention, waiting to be told what she had missed. Her mother tolerated Skye’s presence in her kitchen with thinly disguised unease.

  “You forgot the butter. All you’ve got out is my Shedd’s Spread. You know your dad won’t use anything but the real thing.” May handed Skye a rectangular dish. “Let’s see: Jed, Vince, and Charlie already have their beer, you have your pop, I’ll get me some wine, and we’re all set. Call the men into dinner.”