Murder of a Barbie and Ken

by Denise Swanson

  “No, you can call me if she comes back.” Wally got up and moved toward the door. Bingo rubbed against his legs, and he reached down to pet him.

  Skye stared at the cat. “How did Bingo get locked in the utility room?”

  “Huh?”

  “He was out here when I got home from work. I rarely close the door between the laundry and kitchen, so how did the door get closed and the cat get on the other side?”

  “Oh.” Understanding dawned on Wally’s face. He put a finger to his lips and beckoned Skye to follow him.

  They walked quietly through the kitchen and silently surveyed the utility room. Skye poked Wally in the arm and pointed to the hamper. It was about three feet high and two feet deep.

  He nodded, stepped up to it, and threw back the lid. Bunny squealed, then popped up as if she were jumping out of a cake at a bachelor party. One of Skye’s bras was draped over her head, and a pair of slacks hung from her shoulders like a cape.

  Wally moved back and held out his hand. “Mrs. Reid, I presume?”

  Bunny shook off the dirty clothes and accepted his help as she climbed out of the hamper. She fluffed her curls, batted her lashes, and said, “Call me Bunny.”

  “Okay, Bunny, you need to come with me to the police station. I have some questions I want to ask you about—”

  Bunny interrupted him, nodding at Skye. “Let’s wait until we’re alone to do this.”

  Skye sat on the familiar vinyl couch in the police department waiting area. She couldn’t count the number of times she had been forced to spend hours and hours with the sofa’s old springs poking her in the derriere. Bunny’s bravado had quickly faded, and she had begged Skye to come with her. Wally hadn’t objected, so here she was. Too bad neither Wally nor Bunny wanted her in the interrogation room.

  In the meantime, she had phoned Simon. He was in the middle of a wake, but said he’d call to see what was happening when it was over. He hadn’t been shocked or even particularly upset to learn of his mother’s interrogation. If anything, he seemed resigned.

  It was nearly seven-thirty. A matron from the county had arrived a few minutes ago, which meant they could finally begin questioning. Skye wasn’t sure whether it was a state law or a Wally law that a woman had to be present when a female suspect was interrogated.

  Either way, they’d had to wait for more than forty-five minutes while the matron drove over from Laurel. Scumble River needed to hire a female deputy.

  Skye’s thoughts skittered in another direction. Maybe she should call Loretta. Loretta Steiner was one of the best criminal attorneys in Illinois, and she and Skye were both alumni of Alpha Sigma Alpha sorority. They had lost touch after college, but a couple of years ago, when Skye’s brother had been charged with murder, Skye had called her. Since then Skye had provided the lawyer with three other Scumble River clients. Should Bunny be the fourth?

  No. Bunny was an adult, and she had been clear that she didn’t want Skye to call a lawyer. Skye would just have to curb her natural instinct to help.

  Bunny hadn’t wanted Skye to call Simon either, but that was different. No way was she keeping something like that from him. That had to be one of the top ten ways to get your lover to leave you.

  Skye’s stomach growled. She looked at her watch. Eight o’clock. She never did get any supper. What was taking them so long? Why did the police want to talk to Bunny? Was it about the Addison murders? What could she have to do with that?

  Finally the door between the waiting area and the rest of the station opened.

  Bunny trotted through, followed by Wally, who said, “Now remember, you promised not to leave Scumble River.”

  She made an exaggerated X across her chest. “I promise.”

  Skye stood up. “What’s going on?”

  Wally looked at Bunny. “Okay?”

  “If you have to.” The older woman stuck out her lower lip and pouted.

  “You agreed it would be best,” Wally reminded her.

  The redhead heaved another big sigh. “I said go ahead.”

  “Bunny’s compact was found in Ken Addison’s car.”

  “What? How did it get there?” Skye looked at Bunny. “You knew Dr. Addison?”

  “He was at the motor court when I tried to get a room. He drove me over to your place.”

  “Why was he at the motor court?”

  Bunny shrugged. “It looked like he was checking out.”

  Skye glanced over at Wally. “How interesting. Did Charlie mention that Addison had rented a cottage?”

  “Originally we never thought to question him,” Wally said. “After all, Addison lived right in town. But when I called just now, he confirmed Bunny’s story. Said Addison was a frequent flyer.”

  Bunny headed toward the door. “If you all are through, I’m starving.”

  Skye started to follow but stopped. “Wait a minute. How did you know it was Bunny’s compact?”

  “By her fingerprints,” Wally answered.

  “How did your fingerprints get into the police computer?” Skye asked the older woman.

  Bunny licked her lips. “Ah, I had a teensy little problem, and I’m on court supervision.”

  “What did you do?”

  “They claim I forged a prescription for some pain medicine, but that’s not true,” Bunny huffed. “My doctor told me to take those pills whenever my back was bothering me. I ran out, and I was just trying to get some more. I was following doctor’s orders.”

  “I thought you couldn’t leave the state if you were on court supervision.” Skye had a lot of other questions, but that one seemed the most pressing. Was Bunny a fugitive, running from the Nevada police?

  Wally answered, “She hasn’t. She was arrested in Chicago.”

  “But you said you came from Las Vegas.”

  “That’s true. Only I thought Sonny still lived in Chicago, so I stopped there before coming here.” Bunny folded her arms. “Can we get something to eat now?”

  Skye considered making Bunny explain things more fully, but decided Simon really needed to be present at that discussion. “I’d better get her some dinner before she gets cranky,” Skye said to Wally. “Do you want to come to the Feed Bag with us?”

  “No, I’m heading home. I’ve been on duty since seven this morning.”

  “Okay. Get some rest.” Skye ushered Bunny out the door.

  Bunny was uncharacteristically quiet as they drove to the restaurant, were seated, and placed their orders. Skye slipped away and called Simon. The wake had ended at eight-thirty, and he was just cleaning up and making sure things were set for the funeral the next day. He’d meet them at Skye’s. When she tried to fill him in on what she had found out since their last phone call, he told her to wait until they were face to face.

  Skye had just taken a sip of her hot chocolate when Bunny said, “I hope you’re not two-timing my son with that police chief.”

  Skye snorted the hot liquid. After she mopped her face and recovered, she asked, “Why would you say that?”

  Bunny snapped her fingers, no small trick considering her nails were an inch-long with tiny rhinestones glued to the tips. “It’s obvious he has the hots for you.”

  Simon’s Lexus was parked in Skye’s driveway when she and Bunny returned from the Feed Bag. Even though she was expecting him, the meal she had just eaten formed into a lump in her stomach. This showdown wouldn’t be pretty.

  Bunny and Skye got out of the car and went up the side-walk. Simon met them at the front door holding Bingo.

  Skye walked in, kicked off her boots, and hung up her coat. “Have you been here long?”

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  “How’d the wake go?”

  “It was Mrs. Jeffries. She was ninety-two, so people were sad but not distraught.” He answered aloud, then muttered under his breath, “I’v helped hundreds of families say good-bye to their loved ones, and I can handle that. But here I am with a mother I thought I had buried long ago, who pops up and insis
ts on exhuming the past, and I don’t know what to do.”

  During this exchange, Bunny had tried to sneak past Simon and into the bathroom. He grabbed her by the hood of her fuchsia fake fur jacket. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Hear what?” Bunny attempted to shrug out of the coat and escape.

  “For starters, why the police wanted to question you.” Simon put Bingo on the floor, steered his mother into the great room, and sat her down on one of the director’s chairs.

  “I need to use the little girls’ room first.” Bunny rocked from cheek to cheek.

  “Fine, but don’t think you can stay in there until I give up and leave.”

  She scurried away without responding.

  Skye put an arm around him. “Want some tea, coffee, a stiff drink?”

  “There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to make that drink stiff enough.” Simon hugged her. “Why did she have to come back?”

  “So you two could get straight with each other?” Skye guessed.

  He sighed and buried his face in Skye’s neck. “She’s not going away, is she?”

  “Not for a while. Wally wants her to stay in town until the Addison murders are solved.”

  He became rigid. “She’s involved with that?”

  “I am not,” Bunny said, returning from the bathroom and plopping down on the sofa.

  “Glad to hear it.” Simon moved in front of her, and stood looking down. “Then why is the chief of police telling you not to leave town?”

  “Well.” Bunny twisted a red curl. “You see…” With some prodding from Simon, Bunny ran through the whole story and finished by saying, “So, he gave me a ride, and my compact must have fallen out of my purse.”

  Simon zeroed in on the part his mother had skimmed over. “But you are on court supervision for forging a prescription.”

  “I explained all that. It was just a silly misunderstanding.”

  “You seem to get involved in a lot of misunderstandings.” Simon refused to let her look away. “And they all seem to involve you trying to get something that you’re not entitled to—like Dad’s money.”

  “Now, don’t be like that.” Bunny tried to take his hand, but he shook her off. “That’s not how it happened at all.”

  “No?” Simon raised a brow. “Funny, I remember it clearly, almost as if it had been videotaped.”

  “I loved your father.” Bunny played with her hair. “But he and I wanted different kinds of lives.”

  “You loved him so much you went to his bank, withdrew ten thousand from his savings, and left.” Simon stared at his mother. “What am I missing?”

  “He told me I could have the money. He understood I had to give my dancing one last chance.” Black mascara trails forged their way down Bunny’s cheeks. “A friend called me and said that a new hotel was going up in Las Vegas, and a friend of a friend was in charge of putting together the show. But I had to get there right away so I could audition. And if I got a spot, I’d need enough money to live on while we rehearsed. It was my last chance to be a star.”

  “And how’d that work out for you?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  Skye frowned and opened her mouth, but quickly closed it. This was not the time to interfere.

  “Not too bad.” Bunny spoke into her chest. “It was good for a while.”

  Simon’s expression softened, but then he shook his head and his mouth took on an unpleasant twist.

  Neither mother nor son seemed to know what to say next. Bunny’s makeup had long since dissolved, and the years of bad decisions were a road map on her face. Simon’s shoulders drooped. Skye could feel her neck and head throbbing with tension. They all needed a time-out and some rest.

  Skye moved over to Simon and whispered in his ear, “It’s too late to take her to the motor court. She can stay here one more night, then we’ll get her settled over there tomorrow after school. Okay?”

  He nodded and Skye relayed the message to Bunny.

  “Yeah, we girls gotta get our beauty rest.” Bunny yawned and stretched.

  Simon frowned at his mother and whispered to Skye, “It seems like forever since we were alone together.”

  “You two don’t have to keep whispering.” Bunny moved toward the bathroom. “I’ll go take a shower and give you some privacy.”

  Skye scooped up Bingo and led Simon into her bedroom. She closed the door, wanting to make sure her houseguest couldn’t hear them.

  Skye had met Simon when she returned to Scumble River a little more than two and a half years ago. They had dated for ten months, broken up over Skye’s unwillingness to take their relationship to the next level, and then started seeing each other again six months ago.

  In September they had finally taken the big step and spent the night together. Since then, they’d been trying to find a way to continue the intimate side of their relationship without the whole town finding out that they were sleeping together. This had been harder than they expected.

  Scumble River was a small town, and both of their jobs put them in the public eye. In addition, each drove extremely distinctive cars, and Skye’s mother worked as a police dispatcher. The result was no privacy and a lot of frustration.

  As soon as the door closed, Simon pulled her into his arms. She buried her face against his chest. They stood like that for a long moment. She could feel him trying to let go of his negative emotions.

  He brushed a gentle kiss to her temple and put his hand under her chin, urging her to look up. His lips slowly descended to meet hers. She shivered at the tenderness of his kiss. There was a well of sweetness in him that he didn’t often let anyone see.

  Raising his mouth from hers, he said softly, “I needed that.”

  “Me, too.” Skye caressed his cheek with her hand. “Why do we let so many things get in the way of this, of us?”

  “It’s who we are.” He kissed her palm. “We realize that our actions affect others. Both of us have seen what happens when people forget that point, and only care about themselves.”

  Skye thought of the problems she dealt with at school. Simon was right. She started to move away, but his lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time. She let the heady sensation wash over her and parted her lips.

  Gently he eased her down on the bed. He had the first two buttons on her blouse undone when the television in the next room blared into life. Skye went rigid, then quickly slid out from beneath him. She knew she was being a prude, but the thought of Bunny on the other side of the wall drained all the desire out of her.

  Simon sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. His expression was grim, but he shrugged in mock resignation. “Bunny strikes again.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s …” Skye struggled to explain, without sounding like she had just been transported from Victorian England.

  “Sit down.” He scooted over so he could lean against the headboard and patted the bed. “I understand. Bunny in the next room is a definite mood breaker.”

  Skye was grateful he wasn’t angry. She snuggled against his side.

  “Guess I should go home.” He looked at the clock. “It’s nearly midnight.”

  Neither made any movement to get up.

  “You know what?” Skye said suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Bunny was right. Sex is a lot like air. It’s no big deal unless you’re not getting any.”

  Simon’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You’ve really hit rock bottom when you start quoting Bunny.”

  “Very funny.” Skye made a face.

  “I need to figure out what to do about her. Clearly she’s here for a reason and until I figure it out, she’s going to stick around. It makes me feel…” Simon trailed off, at a loss for words.

  “Sort of like when you’re sitting on a chair and you lean back so you’re perched on only two legs, then you lean back even farther and you almost fall over, but at the last second you catch yourself?”

  “Yeah, that’s it exactly. Off balance.”<
br />
  “I’m used to it.” Skye squeezed his arm. “I feel like that most of the time.”

  “Well, I don’t want to get used to it. I want things to get back to normal.”

  “I know,” Skye said soothingly, but thought, There is no such thing as normal. They were silent for a while, then Skye said, “Hey, did I mention Bunny went to Mass with me Sunday? And it was her idea.”

  Simon rolled his eyes. “Going to church doesn’t make you a good person any more than moving to the country makes you a farmer. But thanks for trying.” He hugged her. “Time for me to go.”

  They walked out of the bedroom and to the front door. Bunny was asleep on the couch, pink curlers in her hair and green cold cream on her face.

  Skye stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Night.”

  “Call me when you leave school tomorrow.” Simon put on his coat. “I’ll come over and help you move Bunny to the motor court.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  CHAPTER 15

  ‘Tis strange but true; for truth is always strange,— Stranger than fiction.

  —Byron

  Skye spent Tuesday morning at the junior high school, meeting with Joy Kessler and the sixth-grade team. They came up with a behavior plan to help Alex be more successful at school. Some of the teachers were skeptical, but everyone agreed it was worth a try.

  After lunch Skye drove to the high school. She stopped to empty her mailbox, then went on to her office, by far the nicest of the three in the district. Originally, the guidance counselor had used it, but when the board made that a part-time position and assigned one of the coaches to those duties, Skye had successfully argued that he already had an office near the gym and didn’t need this one, too.

  Now that they had moved out the metal filing cabinets that contained the guidance records, the room was spacious. It even had a window. Granted, the old metal blinds needed replacing, but considering what she had at the other schools, this was the Taj Mahal.

  Skye hung up her jacket on the coat tree she had brought in, a garage sale bargain at two dollars, and sat behind the big wooden desk. The comfy old leather chair welcomed her bottom, and she smiled in contentment before she started to write yet another psychological report.