“Maybe I should go with you.” Wally leaned against the bathroom door, watching her. “It would be fun. Like on our honeymoon.”
“Well, technically”—Skye shimmied into her maillot—“since you aren’t an employee of the school district, you would need to get a pass from the superintendent’s office in order to use the facility.”
“It sounds as if you don’t want me there.” He narrowed his eyes.
“It’s just that if Blair does show up, she’s such a stickler for the rules, I’m afraid your presence would cause more problems than it would solve.” Skye headed back into the bedroom to gather her outfit for the workday. She glanced at Wally, who had followed her, and added, “So it’s not that I wouldn’t love having you with me. I just want to avoid stirring up any more trouble with the woman.”
“If she’s there, do you promise not to talk to her?” Wally’s jaw clenched.
“Of course.” Skye finished packing her things. “Oh, you distracted me last night”—she wiggled her brows and gazed at the bed—“before I could tell you that we’re going to need to make an announcement about our impending happy event soon.”
“I thought we agreed to wait until a few weeks after the first trimester.”
“Unfortunately”—Skye pointed to her belly—“Juniorette is starting to show.”
“Yes, he is.” Wally beamed and touched Skye’s spandex-covered baby bump. “But you should be okay in your regular clothes.”
“Not for much longer.” Skye pulled on her sweat suit. “She is growing by the day.” It was too soon to know the baby’s gender, and they had been teasing each other with the possibilities.
“So, we make the announcement after Vince and Loretta’s shower on Saturday?” Wally asked. “We can phone everyone first thing Monday.”
“Yes.” Skye walked down the stairs carrying her duffel. She stopped at the hall bench to stuff the files and her purse inside before snapping the padlock, then said, “There’s a good chance Dorothy has an idea about what’s going on, and when I saw Mom at the drugstore yesterday, she said something that makes me think her pal might have shared her suspicions.” Skye paused at the front door. “Or at least gave her BFF a clue.”
“Should I talk to Dorothy?” Wally asked, then gave Skye a good-bye kiss. “Confidentiality was a part of her employment agreement.”
“Not yet.” Skye stepped out onto the porch, but turned and said, “One more thing. Dad will be by today to take a look at the Bel Air, so if it’s gone, don’t think it was stolen.” She waved and muttered as she hurried toward the garage, “Worse luck.”
It was exactly six o’clock when Skye pulled the T-bird into the high school driveway. At first she thought that, like yesterday, the lot was empty. Then she noticed a black Miata tucked near the athletic-equipment shed. It wasn’t an official parking spot, but its proximity to the gym’s emergency exit would be convenient for anyone who had a key that shut off the alarm. Besides Homer and the custodian, the only faculty members with keys were the coaches.
Shoot! Was that Blair’s car? Skye pulled Wally’s Ford into an open slot but didn’t turn off the engine. Maybe she should just drive on over to the junior high. A wave of nausea hit her. No. The pool wasn’t reserved, and she needed to swim. Everyone else might be intimidated by the volleyball coach, but Skye refused to join their ranks. Besides, the Mazda could belong to Thor Goodson.
As soon as Skye unlocked the entrance and walked inside, she noticed the auxiliary lights. Heck! Last night’s storm must have knocked out the power again. She hoped the custodian had reported the outage to Commonwealth Edison. If it wasn’t restored before school started, classes might have to be canceled.
Luckily, she didn’t need electricity to swim. Taking her morning dip in the pool now felt like a holy quest, and she was too stubborn to turn back. Skye walked down the hallway, through the gym, and into the girls’ locker room. Just to be on the safe side, she rechecked the calendar taped to the door. The schedule hadn’t changed from when she’d looked at it yesterday afternoon. The last reservation for the pool had been for Monday evening from nine to ten.
Dropping her duffel on the bench, she stripped off her sweat suit and exited the locker room. In the near darkness, the view of the pool area through the blue opaque safety glass wall was a little eerie. She rounded the corner and strolled over to the ladder.
After adjusting her swim cap and goggles, she started to climb down, then caught sight of something at the bottom of the pool. Without the normal subaquatic lights, she couldn’t tell if there really was anything there or not. She shrugged. It was probably just a shadow.
Easing off the ladder and into the water, she realized that it was a lot colder than usual. She mentally slapped her forehead. Of course it was cooler; no power meant no heater. Shivering, she dove underneath the surface, hoping that fully submerging would help her acclimate more quickly to the chilly temperature.
She swam a few feet, then went deeper and paddled along the bottom of the pool. Seeing the shadow she’d noticed earlier, she hesitated. There really was something down there, but without the lights, it was difficult to see exactly what. Swimming closer, she reached out to touch whatever it was and almost screamed.
Choking from the water she’d swallowed, Skye shot to the surface. Unless this was a very elaborate practical joke and the prankster had access to an extremely realistic-feeling dummy, there was a body at the bottom of the pool.
CHAPTER 7
BRB—Be Right Back
Skye gasped, trying to get her breath, then kicked frantically and swam as fast as she could toward the side of the pool. She had to get out of the water. She was shivering uncontrollably, and that couldn’t be good for the baby. Reaching the edge, she grabbed the ladder, then hesitated. What if the person was alive? Their skin had felt ice-cold, but then again, so did hers. She was a trained lifeguard. She couldn’t just leave them to die.
Murmuring a prayer that she wasn’t endangering her unborn child, she turned back and dived down to the bottom. Thankfully, the water’s buoyancy made it relatively easy to bring the person to the surface. Getting them out of the pool was an entirely different matter.
Although she was ninety-nine percent certain there was no one else around, Skye screamed for help. She continued to shout as she moved the drowning victim toward the ladder and used the strap of her goggles to secure the individual to the step.
Climbing out of the water, Skye lay down with her head and shoulders over the pool edge, hooked one leg through the ladder railing for leverage, and untied the fastenings. Finally, inch by painful inch, she hauled the person up onto the concrete apron.
She was grateful she’d started lifting weights in the home gym Wally had installed in one of the extra bedrooms. She still didn’t have much upper-body strength—she’d barely passed her last lifeguard recertification test. But two or three months ago she would have never been able to boost someone out of the water without the aid of a shepherd’s crook, a rescue tube, or a backboard.
Heck! Before the weight training, she was lucky to get herself up the metal rungs, let alone someone else.
Turning the casualty over, Skye squeezed her eyes shut. It was Blair. Considering the Miata parked outside, she’d known there was a good chance it might be the science teacher, but she’d purposely stopped herself from contemplating the drowning victim’s identity.
Giving the person a name made the situation too real. And if it was real, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. Because if she thought too much about what was happening, it might immobilize her.
Struggling to stay calm, Skye pretended this was just a routine training exercise and Blair was a CPR manikin. She immediately checked the teacher’s throat for blockage, then pinched her nose shut and blew into her mouth while she watched to see if Blair’s chest rose. When there was no movement, Skye readjust
ed the woman’s head so that the chin was pointing upward and tried the rescue breaths again. The chest still didn’t rise, so Skye started compressions.
The movies and television made it seem that a drowning victim should be turned on his or her side to get the water from their lungs. But in reality, CPR was more effective, and the chest compressions would also pump out the fluid.
Skye wasn’t sure how long she tried to resuscitate Blair, but after what seemed like forever, she had to admit that the teacher was dead. There was nothing Skye could do to bring her back. She needed to inform the powers that be, starting with her husband.
Having discovered bodies before—too many times for comfort—she knew the drill. But instead of moving, she heard herself whimper and realized she was perilously close to a total breakdown. This was no time to lose it. She dug her fingernails into her upper thigh, and the sharp pain shocked her back into focus.
She didn’t have the luxury of giving in to her feelings. She had to notify the authorities and then contact Homer. She glanced at the wall clock. It was 6:36. The staff would begin to arrive in less than forty-five minutes and the students half an hour after that. Decisions had to be made. If the school was going to be closed for the day, the parents and the bus company had to be alerted sooner rather than later.
But Skye remained kneeling beside Blair, a voice inside her head whispering that she’d just had a fight with this woman the day before. Her last thoughts about the teacher had been hateful ones. The queasiness returned, and her stomach roiled. Suddenly, she gagged.
Stop it, Skye ordered herself. You are not only a consultant for the police department, but you’re a psychologist. You’ve been taught to remain unemotional, to dissociate yourself from the situation, and to disconnect your emotions. She swallowed hard, got to her feet, and thought about the measures she needed to take.
First, get her cell from her purse. Second, call Wally. Third, get out of the wet swimsuit, put on some clothes, and wait for him to arrive. She bit her thumbnail. Was there a fourth item on her to-do list?
Still in a near trance, she staggered to the locker room, dug out her phone, and dialed her home number. It rang four times and then went to voice mail. She got the same response when she tried Wally’s cell.
Well, hell! Where was he? He didn’t start work until eight, and although he often went in before his shift officially began, this was early even for him. Maybe he was in the shower. Skye frowned; then, just in case there had been an emergency and he’d been summoned to the police station, she tried his private line. When he didn’t answer, she gave up and dialed 911. At least her mother wasn’t on duty. She really didn’t want to have to deal with May’s maternal fussing.
“Scumble River police, fire, and emergency,” Char, the dispatcher who covered the midnight-to-eight stint, answered on the first ring. “How can I help you?”
“This is Skye. Can you send an officer to our house and have him tell Wally that I need him at the high school right away?” She paused. There was no use tying up the town’s lone ambulance since she was certain Blair was beyond any help they could provide. “And Wally should probably contact the coroner to come, too.”
“Honey, are you okay?” Char’s concerned voice soothed Skye.
“I’m fine. Just get Wally here right away.”
Without waiting for a response from Char, Skye pushed the OFF button, then quickly pulled the towel from her duffel, dried off, and slipped on her sweat suit. Tucking her cell into the pants pocket, she secured the locker door behind her, then headed toward the entrance to let Wally in when he arrived. She was chilled to the bone, and she wondered if she’d ever feel warm again. Certainly not anytime soon.
As she waited, she briefly wondered where Cameron was during all of her screaming. Cameron Unger had been the elementary school custodian, but after his mother was killed, he transferred to the high school position, and Skye had grown used to seeing the young man when she came for her early-morning swims.
A few seconds later Skye remembered that at their last meeting, in an attempt to cut costs, the board had eliminated the third shift. The building was now empty from eleven p.m. until seven a.m. Which probably meant that nobody was aware of the power outage either.
Skye immediately fished her phone from her sweatpants pocket and scrolled through her contact list. Shoot! She didn’t have Homer’s home number. She’d have to call Uncle Charlie. As the board president, he’d certainly know how to reach the principal.
Before she could dial, she saw Wally’s squad car screech to a stop in front of the school. That had been quick. Had he gotten one of her messages, or had an officer already been in the area? There sure hadn’t been enough time for anyone to get to their house with a message.
Wally burst out of the cruiser and flew up the sidewalk, a look of alarm on his face. Although he wore his uniform, his tie was missing and his wet hair stood on end, as if he’d shoved his fingers through it.
Skye pushed open the door and met him on the steps. He gathered her into his arms, then ran his hands down her back and sides as if checking her for injuries.
Finally, his voice husky, he said, “Darlin’, are you okay?”
“I am now.” She snuggled against him for a moment, then kissed his cheek and withdrew from his embrace, tugging him inside and down the hall. “When I dove into the pool, I found Blair Hucksford’s body on the bottom.”
“You’re sure she’s dead?” Wally asked as he walked beside Skye.
“Yes.” She unlocked the door, led him through the dressing room and into the pool area. “I managed to get her out of the water and performed CPR.” Skye lurched to a stop, and her voice quavered when she admitted, “I hope I didn’t hurt the baby by doing that, but I couldn’t just leave her if there was a chance she might survive.”
“Do you feel any abdominal pain?” Wally’s brow furrowed, and he tipped up her chin, examining her face. “Any cramping or spotting?”
“No.” Skye shook her head. “I actually feel better. Less nauseated.”
“Then I’m sure you’re fine.” He started to turn toward the body but hesitated and said, “But if you have even a twinge, you need to call the doctor ASAP.”
“Definitely.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry if you think I shouldn’t have taken the chance with our baby.”
“That’s who you are, sugar.” Wally hugged her. “You could no more turn your back on someone in need than you could scale Mount Everest.”
“Thanks.” Skye frowned. “I think.” She poked him in the chest. “And I’m sure I could climb a mountain if I had the right equipment.”
“Uh-huh.” Wally had clearly already learned the appropriate response to his new wife’s statements. He gave Skye a final kiss on the cheek, then crouched next to the body and pressed two fingers to the side of Blair’s throat. “Tell me exactly what happened. Start with when you pulled into the parking lot this morning.”
“Okay.” Skye gathered her thoughts. “The first thing I saw was that except for a black Miata parked near the athletic-equipment shed, there were no other cars. I figured it belonged to one of the coaches, since it was near the alarmed gym exit and they all have keys to that door.”
“So you went inside.” Wally waited a few more seconds, then removed his hand from the woman’s neck. “Did you see anyone in the building?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “But I did notice that the building’s power was out. Fortunately, the emergency lights were working.”
“Why didn’t you leave then?” Wally laid his ear on the victim’s chest.
“I figured that I was already in my bathing suit and I didn’t need it to be that bright to swim.” Skye watched as Wally lifted his head and picked up Blair’s wrist, checking for a pulse. “I put my things in the locker room, took off my sweat suit, and walked into the pool area. I thought I saw a shadow at the bottom of the p
ool, but it was hard to tell without the subaquatic lights.” Skye’s voice cracked. “So I climbed into the water.”
“I know this is tough.” Wally straightened and took her back into his arms.
“The water was cold, so I dove down, trying to warm up.” Skye spoke into his chest. “That’s when I saw it wasn’t a shadow at the bottom.” Her voice broke. “But I still couldn’t determine what it was until I reached out, and that’s when I realized it was a person.”
“Then what?” Wally pulled her closer and smoothed his hand over her hair.
“Then I dove back down and brought her to the surface. I shouted for help, but no one was around.” Skye explained about the elimination of the midnight shift from the custodian’s schedule, and when Wally nodded his understanding, she continued. “Once I got the drowning victim out of the pool, I saw it was Blair, and I tried to resuscitate her.” Skye bit back a sob, but a tear rolled down her cheek. “But it wasn’t any use.”
“It’s okay, baby.” Wally kissed her temple. “I wish you hadn’t been the one to find her. Try not to think about it anymore.”
“Right.” Skye was fairly sure she wouldn’t be forgetting the last hour anytime soon. “Then I tried calling you at home, on your cell, and on your private line. Finally, I just dialed nine-one-one.”
“I was in the shower.” He held her for a few more minutes. “By the time I got out and heard your message, Anthony was at the front door, ringing the bell like he thought I might be deaf.”
“He must have been close by to get there so fast,” Skye murmured, drawing strength from her husband’s touch. “Did you notify Simon?”
“Yes.” Wally frowned, clearly unhappy. “He’s on the way. In fact, you’d better go let him in the front door. I’ll stay with the body.”
Skye cringed. Simon Reid, her ex-boyfriend, was the county coroner, not to mention the owner of both the local funeral home and the bowling alley. She hadn’t seen him since her wedding reception, where he’d told her that even if her feelings for him had changed, he would always love her. She wondered if things between them would be awkward.
Murder of an Open Book Page 6
