Murder of a Barbie and Ken

by Denise Swanson

  With that in mind, she called Wally and notified him about the possible intruder. He said he’d have Quirk patrol her street that night and told her to call immediately if she felt the least bit threatened. While she had Wally on the phone, she filled him in on what she had learned from Dorothy—especally Lu and Ken’s affair.

  Having done all she could to ensure her safety, she turned to a matter she had control over, dinner. Skye made herself a turkey sandwich from Thanksgiving leftovers, carried her plate into the living room, and checked the TV Guide. There was nothing interesting on television, so she put on a Patsy Cline CD and settled back on the sofa with a crossword puzzle. Maybe concentrating on something other than the murder would jar loose a clue in her mind.

  But her thoughts refused to cooperate, and as she took a bite of her sandwich, she mulled over what she had discovered so far. Number one, Ken Addison was a major creep. He had been involved in numerous extramarital affairs, which meant that a lot of husbands, fathers, and ex-lovers wouldn’t mind seeing him dead. And Nate Turner would be at the top of the list, if he knew about Addison’s affair with Polly.

  Second, Addison had cheated his partner out of a research grant, which cost Zello both money and prestige. Certainly Zello wouldn’t have shed any tears when he heard about Ken’s demise.

  Then there were the GUMBs. Here was an organization with a dark underbelly that was kept carefully concealed from public view. How many of the members knew about the sex parties attended by certain club members? How many of the select group was sorry they had ever decided to cross over into the wilder side? And, more important, how many of those involved would be willing to commit murder to stop it, or at least keep it a secret?

  Next, there was Bob Ginardi, who wanted to oust Addison from his position of power as head GUMB. Had Addison threatened to tell all about the inner circle’s sexcapades if he wasn’t reelected? Would that be enough to make Ginardi want him dead? Dorothy had said she had caught Addison in bed with his wife’s best friend, Lu. Did Ginardi know about that?

  Frustrated, Skye put aside the crossword puzzle and stretched out on the sofa. Instead of reducing the list of suspects, she was adding to it. Maybe they had all killed Ken, like in that old movie on TV the other night.

  No. That was silly. If they had all killed him, they would also have had to turn around and all kill Barbie, too. Skye grabbed a throw pillow and stuffed it under her head. What was she missing?

  CHAPTER 20

  Misery acquaints a [wo]man with strange bed-fellows.

  —Shakespeare

  Saturday morning, Skye sat at her kitchen table writing up a grocery list. With Bunny gone and the stores back to normal, she could finally stock up again. Suddenly, she stiffened. That was it! What an idiot! She’d been overlooking it all along. Even when Dorothy told her about it yesterday she hadn’t made the connection. So much for her supposedly high IQ and great intuition.

  Skye slumped back in her chair and thought about it. Could they all have been looking at the wrong victim? Everyone had been under the assumption that the murderer had been after Ken, that Barbie had been collateral damage.

  But what if the reverse was true—what if the killer had intended for Barbie to die all along, and Ken was the innocent bystander? What if the couple’s deaths were connected with Barbie’s Instant Gourmet business?

  Dorothy had said that she frequently heard arguing coming from the garage, and that Barbie’s friends hadn’t been happy with their involvement in Instant Gourmet. In fact, Dorothy had said that Barbie had had her friends over a barrel regarding that enterprise.

  Skye drained her cup of tea, stood up, and put it into the sink. As she dressed, she started to form a plan. The first thing she needed was to see Barbie’s business records, and find out which of her friends had been over the biggest barrel.

  After stuffing a legal pad and pen into her purse, she hopped in her car and headed toward the police station.

  Her mother was sweeping the waiting area when Skye came in. The station was quiet. Saturday morning during a holiday weekend wasn’t prime crime time.

  May paused in mid-sweep. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. Something wrong?”

  “No.” Skye gave her mom a one-armed hug. “Why do you always think the worst?”

  “Because I don’t like to be caught off guard.” May put her broom aside, picked up a can of Endust and a rag, and said, “So, then, what’s up?”

  “I had an idea about the Addisons’ murders and wanted to ask Wally some questions. Is he around?”

  “No. Quirk is working today.”

  “Darn.” She frowned as she watched May wipe down the vinyl sofa and side table. “Why are you doing that? I thought the PD had a cleaning lady.”

  May tsked. “She doesn’t do a very good job, so I touch things up when we aren’t busy.”

  Skye wasn’t surprised by her mother’s statement. While the other dispatchers might read or do needlepoint or puzzles during the slow time, May would always find some kind of work to do. “When will Wally be back on duty?”

  “Monday.”

  “Crap.” Skye chewed her lip. “Hey, maybe I don’t need to talk to him after all. Do you know if he took the Addisons’ financial records in as evidence?”

  May paused in Windexing the glass door. “Everything he collected is out in the garage in the storage area.”

  “Would it be okay if I took a look?” Skye explained her theory about Barbie’s Instant Gourmet business.

  “Sure. Makes sense. One of your cousins got involved in selling some cleaning products a while back. Nearly drove her crazy trying to keep up with her quota. Luckily the contract she signed was for only six months; otherwise she’d have gone broke. I’ll get the key.” May disappeared into the back of the station and returned in seconds with a key attached to a small block of wood. “Here. Put everything back the way you find it and don’t remove anything.”

  “No problem.”

  The storage area had been created by erecting eight-foot-tall plywood walls in the corner of the garage. It had no roof, and the door swayed in its frame as Skye unlocked it. She slid the key into her jacket pocket and entered. It was dark and dusty. A bare bulb hung from a strip of wood nailed from corner to corner.

  Skye had to stretch on tiptoes to reach the string and turn on the light. She gasped in dismay as the space was illuminated. Junk was piled everywhere. How would she find the material from the Addisons’ murders among this mess? Maybe she should just wait until she could talk to Wally.

  But she didn’t want to wait. She wanted to know right now. There had to be a system. She scanned the contents of the area again. Was it as simple as chronology—old material in the back, new in the front? She hurried over to the boxes nearest the door, snatched off the lid, and pulled out a file. Yes. This one was marked INSURANCE and the papers inside all bore the Addisons’ names.

  An hour later, she wasn’t as jubilant. She had been through all the Addisons’ cartons and she knew all about their mortgage—it was a big one—their car payments, and what they put on their credit cards, but she hadn’t found anything at all pertaining to the Instant Gourmet business.

  That alone was suspicious. There had to be records. Skye considered the condition of the house when she discovered the bodies. The killer had been searching for something, and she’d bet he or she had been looking for Barbie’s Instant Gourmet account books.

  Had the murderer gotten all the papers that had to do with Barbie’s business, or had he or she missed something? To be sure, Skye had to search the Addisons’ house herself.

  After replacing the boxes in their original spots and locking the door behind her, Skye went to find her mother to return the key.

  May was in the staff bathroom scrubbing the toilet when Skye located her. May straightened. “Get what you wanted?”

  “Not really.” Skye caught sight of herself in the mirror above the sink. Her jeans were streaked with dust, her sweater had a dark s
mudge near the right shoulder, and her hair was escaping its ponytail.

  May’s glance followed Skye’s. “Looks like you’ve been working in a coal mine.”

  Skye took a paper towel and dampened it. “Instead of re-doing what the cleaning lady does in here, you should clean up that storage room. The dust is thicker than the meringue on Grandma Denison’s pies.”

  “I can’t hear the phone or radio out there.” May flicked a cobweb off Skye’s back.

  “Oh.” Skye wiped dust from her black jeans with the wet towel. “Do you know if Wally’s home?” She would have to call him after all. Skye needed to search the Addisons’ house, and she wasn’t breaking and entering to do it.

  “Said he would be around most of the day.”

  “May I use the phone?”

  “Help yourself.”

  Skye finished tucking her hair back into place and entered the dispatch area. She dialed Wally.

  He picked up on the first ring, and she explained her thinking. He said, “Okay, I’ll meet you over there in about twenty minutes. The crime scene techs from the sheriff’s office have released the area, so there’s no problem with us going inside.”

  Wally’s car wasn’t in the driveway when Skye arrived at the Addisons’ house, but he swung open the front door as she climbed the steps.

  “Where’s your cruiser?” she asked.

  “Getting an oil change and tune-up. I dropped it off at the garage and the mechanic’s assistant gave me a ride over here.”

  “Want me to drive you back there when we’re finished?” she offered, walking into the foyer.

  “Yeah. Thanks. By the way, Quirk said there was no suspicious activity by your house last night. Did you see or hear anything more?”

  “No. Maybe Frannie and Justin just saw someone knocking at my door, and their imagination took over.”

  “Maybe.” Wally shrugged. “Oh, Nate Turner is in the clear. He has alibis for that whole morning. Before you saw him at the grocery store, he was with his minister and the church building committee.”

  “Shoot. I really wanted him to be the killer.”

  “That would have been too easy.” Wally gestured to the rest of the house. “Where do you want to start?”

  “The garage.” Skye had been considering where Barbie would keep her records, and decided she would want them near where she did business. “If there was anything in the house, either the murderer found it or the crime scene guys would have, but I remember that the garage wasn’t nearly as torn apart as the inside rooms were.”

  “Good thinking. With all those boxes of food out there, a search would have been more difficult.”

  “I keep forgetting to ask. Who is the Addisons’ next of kin?” Skye passed through the utility room and entered the garage. “I haven’t heard anything about a wake or funeral being scheduled yet.”

  “That’s been a problem. Both Barbie’s and Ken’s parents are dead and they had no siblings.” Wally walked to a stack of cartons and started to examine them.

  “So, have you found an heir?” Skye sat at the table Barbie had used as a desk and tried to picture how she would have done business.

  “Yes. It’s a cousin who lives in California. We’ve been trying to reach her, but she must be away for the holiday.”

  Skye studied the tabletop. She could see where the techs had sprinkled their powder looking for fingerprints. There was a telephone and a fancy fax machine to the right, empty in and out baskets to the left, and a CD player off to the side. Everything had a coating of dust. Skye smirked; obviously the Addisons hadn’t been able to replace Dorothy.

  Wait. There was a clean square in the center, as if something had been sitting there for a long time. “Wally, come here a second, please.”

  He finished with the box he was going through and came to Skye’s side. “Did you find something?”

  “Maybe.” Skye pointed to the clean area on the desk. “Something’s been taken. Do you remember if you or the crime scene techs removed anything from the desktop?”

  “I know we didn’t take anything. I’ll call the county and check with them.” Wally reached for the phone. “Any idea what it might be?”

  “A computer.” Skye shook her head. “I should have realized right away. Barbie would keep her records on a computer. Just because Scumble River is seventy-five years behind the times doesn’t mean a few of its citizens haven’t made the quantum leap into the twenty-first century.”

  “Isn’t that square too small for a computer? The one the dispatchers use at the PD is at least twice that size.” Wally dialed the phone and asked for the crime scene tech.

  “I think this one was a laptop, and I’ll bet that fax machine doubles as a printer.”

  Wally nodded and turned back to the phone. “Hey, Ozzie, this is Chief Boyd. You remember taking any kind of computer from my crime scene last week?” He waited. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

  “Nope. Ozzie checked his inventory. No computer of any kind. And he said they would have taken it if there had been one.”

  Skye hit the tabletop with her fist. “Dang! The killer must have gotten it. Now what do we do?”

  They stood in silence for a while, both thinking. Wally scratched his head. “I don’t know much about computers, but do laptops use disks like the big ones do?”

  “Yes,” Skye said excitedly. “And most people who use computers for their records back them up on disks, and keep the disks separate from the hard drive in case of fire or flood or something.” Skye looked around. “Where would Barbie have kept her backup disks, and did the killer get those, too?”

  They decided to split up so they could cover more ground. Wally went to take a look at the room Ken used for a home office. Skye decided to check out the master bedroom.

  She stood in the doorway and looked around. The murderer had pushed the mattress off the box spring and emptied all the drawers. The shelves in the closet had been cleared with what looked like an angry sweep of a hand. Clothes had been torn from their hangers and thrown in a heap in the center of the floor. Obviously, the search had been thorough.

  What could both the murderer and the crime scene techs have missed? Skye sat at the dressing table and tapped her fingernail on the glass surface. A memory was trying to break through. What did she know that she couldn’t quite recall?

  She had seen something the night of the Instant Gourmet party. What was it? It came to her in a flash, the nearly invisible container under the bed. She flew off the stool exclaiming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She shoved the mattress out of the way and lay down on her stomach.

  As Skye worked her head and upper torso under the bed, she heard the sound of the bedroom door closing, then locking. She tried squirming back out, but hands encased in rubber gloves clamped down on her back and a muffled voice said, “If you don’t want to end up like the Addisons, hand me what you’re reaching for. And don’t turn around.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Heav’n has no rage like love to hatred turn’d, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorn’d.

  —Congreve

  Skye screamed Wally’s name. Immediately she heard footsteps pounding down the hall. Within seconds, the doorknob started to rattle and Wally shouted, “Skye, are you alright?”

  The hands holding her down jerked away, but before she could wiggle out from under the bed, something big and extremely heavy was dumped on her back. The breath whooshed out of her, and she fought to inhale. As she struggled to free herself, she vaguely registered the tinkle of breaking glass.

  The next sounds she heard were wood splintering and Wally’s voice as he removed the object pinning her to the floor. “Skye, what happened? Don’t move. I’ll call an ambulance.”

  She scooted out from under the bed and sat up. Gasping, she managed to squeeze out a few words. “I’m fine. No ambulance.” She pointed to the shattered French door. “Follow.”

  Wally hesitated, but Skye pointed again, and he took off running. After he left, she took a deep breath,
felt no pain, so presumably had no broken ribs. Maybe having extra padding in that area wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It had probably saved her from a serious injury.

  She was pacing in front of the smashed bedroom door when Wally returned. “What happened?” she asked.

  “I heard a car engine revving up as I came around the house, but since I didn’t have the keys to your Chevy I couldn’t pursue it.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  “No. How about you? Did you get a look at the guy?”

  “No. In fact, I can’t swear it was a man. It could have been a woman. He or she disguised their voice, and with my head under the bed I couldn’t see anything.”

  Wally moved closer to her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You scared the life out of me when I heard you scream.”

  “Really, I’m fine. I just had my breath knocked out. What was on top of me?”

  “The king-size mattress.” Wally pointed to the offending object, now leaning against a wall. “What were you doing under the bed?”

  “Oh, in all the excitement I almost forgot! There’s a container under there. Can you get it?” No way was she going down there again.

  Wally reached into his pocket and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. He shoved the huge four-poster bed out of the way as if it were weightless, retrieved the box, and set it on the dressing table.

  Skye held her breath as he flipped open the hinged lid. Yes! It was full of small black plastic squares—the missing disks had been found.

  Wally closed the box. “I’ll dust this for fingerprints, then turn it over to the county computer experts to look at.”

  Skye frowned. “That could take weeks. How about after you fingerprint it, we ask Simon to see if he can’t open the files on his computer at the funeral home? I know the ones at school and the PD are too old, but he just got a new system this summer.”