“Sounds like the bar is hopping, though.”
“There always seems to be a steady stream of customers there, from when we open at ten to when we close at two.” Jess held out his hand. “That’ll be four ninety-three.”
“I’ll bet you’re glad you had the bar built.” Skye put a five in his palm. “With so many other taverns in town, you had to wonder if it would attract enough customers to be profitable.”
“True, but I figured it would be a moneymaker.” Jess handed her seven cents and put the wine in a bag. “This is the first watering hole they come to as they drive into town after getting off I-55.”
“It’s a good thing it was worth all the trouble you had getting it built.” Skye leaned her right hip against the counter.
“Didn’t I hear you had to get a second contractor to finish it when your first one screwed up?”
Jess’s smile widened. “So, you’re investigating Beau Hamilton’s murder.” His brown eyes twinkled. “I thought Sheriff Peterson had that case solved.” Skye was caught short. Either Jess was a whole lot sharper than she had given him credit for, or her interviewing skills were deteriorating. Maybe both.
He walked out from behind the cash register and stood beside her. “I’ll bet you want to know what happened between Beau and me, right?”
She nodded.
“Well.” Jess rested his left hip against the counter and leaned toward her. “Beau came with wonderful recommendations and he talked a really good game, but within a week it was apparent to me that he was totally unreliable.”
“Sounds like his pattern.” Skye couldn’t quite figure Jess out. He was always friendly when she ran into him, even flirty, although she guessed he was at least five years younger than she, but there was something about him she was missing. “I was having the same problems with him.”
“So I heard.”
“What I don’t understand is why there are no complaints filed against him. I certainly was ready to file one before he was killed.”
Jess narrowed his eyes. “Did he know you were going to do that?”
Skye shrugged. “I certainly never made any secret of my dissatisfaction with his work, but I never specifically said I would file a report either.”
“How did he respond when you told him you were unhappy with him?”
“He didn’t seem at all concerned.”
Jess held Skye’s gaze for a long moment before nodding to himself, then saying, “I’m going to tell you something in confidence. I assume as a psychologist you know how to keep a secret.”
“Yes, but if it has anything to do with the murder, I’ll have to tell the police.” Skye knew she risked having Jess clam up, but she felt she had to be up front with him.
“Okay. That’s fair. The reason I didn’t file a report about Beau’s shoddy work was that he found out something about me that I’d rather no one knew. In exchange for his silence I agreed to let him keep the money I had already paid him and not say anything negative about his work.”
“Had you paid the full amount up front?”
“A third. He claimed he needed it for materials and to pay his crew.” Jess hung his head. “How about you?”
“I gave him a third of the estimate, too, but I made him give me copies of receipts from his suppliers.”
“You were smarter than I was. I had to pay for all the building materials again when I hired the new guy.”
“I won’t ask what he knew about you, but was it anything illegal?” Skye realized she was pushing it. Jess had no reason to tell her anything.
“No. Merely something personal that would ruin my fresh start here in town.”
“Thanks for telling me.” Skye held out her hand. “I wonder if he had something on everybody who didn’t file a complaint against him.”
Jess grasped her hand with both of his and squeezed. “I think that was his modus operandi. He nosed around while he was working, and if he found something, he used it to blackmail his clients.”
“I think you’re right.” Skye squeezed back, then moved toward the door. “Thanks again. Bye.” Skye thought of what Jess had told her as she drove home. His theory made sense. She twisted her lips in a par-ody of a smile. Terrific. Her life was so dull, Beau couldn’t even find anything to use against her for blackmail.
Her smile became genuine when she pulled into her driveway. Three women were hard at work on her roof, and Dulci and another woman were installing windows. Skye parked the car, hopped out, and walked over to where the contractor was working.
Skye waited for a break in the action, then said, “Wow.
This is wonderful. How did you get the new windows so fast?”
“I found the ones Hamilton had bought.” Dulci finished setting the frame into the space before continuing. “Loretta said you needed windows and a roof ASAP because someone keeps getting into your house.” Skye was overwhelmed with gratitude. Dulci was an answer to her prayers. First, she actually showed up to work when she promised to, but then she also tracked down the already-purchased windows, saving Skye a lot of money.
“Thank you. I forgot I said I’d look for the supplies Beau bought. How did you find them?”
Dulci concentrated on the level she was using on the window frame. “I figured he’d use somebody local so I called around. When I found out where he had purchased them, I asked where they’d been delivered. Turns out he had a building way the heck in the back of his sister’s property that he used for storage. I went there this morning and picked them up.”
“Alana was okay with that?”
“She wasn’t there and the building wasn’t locked.” Dulci didn’t look up.
“Funny, I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning that building — even when the police were investigating Beau’s murder.”
“It doesn’t look up to code, and I doubt he got a permit to build it — it’s too close to the river. My guess is hardly anyone knows about it.”
“I see.” Skye let the implications sink in, then went back to the original subject. “How did you know they were my windows and not some other client’s?” Dulci answered expressionlessly, “They fit.”
“Oh.” Skye felt a little uncomfortable. “Um, is it legal to just go take them like that?”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law.” Dulci looked at Skye out of the corner of her eye. “Besides, you paid for them. Did you want to wait for all the i’s to be dotted and all the t’s to be crossed, or do you want windows in your house?”
Skye briefly fought with her conscience. It lost. After all, as Dulci pointed out, she had paid for the windows, and since Dulci already had several installed, Skye certainly wasn’t about to have her rip them out. “I want windows. Do you think you’ll have them all installed by the end of the week like you estimated?”
Dulci eyed the house, counting under her breath, and finally said, “Sure, maybe earlier if our luck holds.”
“That’s wonderful.” Impulsively, Skye hugged the contractor. “Thank you.”
Dulci stiffened, then gave Skye’s arms a quick squeeze before stepping back. “No problem.” Skye turned to thank the woman working with Dulci, but she had disappeared, so Skye turned back to the contractor.
“I’m going to change clothes and run an errand. Is there anything you need before I leave?”
Dulci had already gone back to work, but grunted “No” over her shoulder.
After throwing on a gray sweat suit, Skye scraped her hair into a ponytail and jumped back into her car. The drive to Joy’s Jym was short, and she arrived in plenty of time for her rendezvous with Trixie.
As Skye sat waiting for her friend, she thought about the torture devices in store for her inside. She hated this kind of exercising, preferring a morning swim to sweating to the oldies.
One of her most terrifying childhood memories involved being dragged to what her mother had called an exercise salon. It happened at the end of her sixth-grade year. Skye had started to put on some weight, and May
had decided to make her work out every day after school. The place was over in Brooklyn, and it was filled with middle-aged women who nagged at Skye to slim down, telling her she would never catch a boyfriend if she was chubby.
The women had scared her so much, Skye went on a strict diet, eating only a broiled chicken breast and half a cup of cottage cheese a day until she shed the extra pounds. Unfortunately, after she lost the weight, she found that she couldn’t eat much more than that if she wanted to maintain her new slim figure.
When she discovered swimming a few years later, she found she could eat a few more calories, but from the age of twelve until her thirtieth birthday, she kept her weight down by dieting fiercely, weighing herself every morning, and fasting if she gained a pound or two.
The Christmas before she moved back to Scumble River, Skye had an epiphany — life was too short not to occasionally taste the chocolate, not to mention the homemade bread and pasta. She decided to exit from the diet roller coaster. It hadn’t been an easy decision, and she had taken a lot of flak from people who had admonished her, “But you have such a pretty face. You can’t let yourself go like that.” Skye had stood firm regarding her decision. She was tired of eating only eight hundred calories a day. She had reached her natural weight, her set point, and she was never going back to starving herself.
When her brother Vince had confronted her with the same lame argument the exercise ladies had used, that she would never find a man with her full figure, her answer was steadfast. “I know some people won’t think I look good unless I become anorexic, but I’m finished obsessing about my weight. End of discussion.”
It was now nearly four years since she had stopped her extreme dieting, and she still tried to eat healthfully and swim at least five days a week, but her life no longer re-volved around how small a jeans size she could wear. And Vince had been wrong: Plenty of men had been interested in her. She had not always loved wisely, but she hadn’t done that when she was thin either.
Trixie’s “shave and a haircut” toot on the horn brought Skye back to the present. She reluctantly picked up her purse, slowly got out of the Bel Air, and trailed her friend into Joy’s Jym.
Skye had been right in thinking five thirty would be a slow time. The place was empty. Skye and Trixie stood at the chest-high counter and looked around. There were six different machines spaced around the room. According to the sign, a patron should spend five minutes on each, for a total workout in half an hour.
If one ignored the exercise equipment, it was a pleasant room. Pale blue walls with feathery white clouds painted near the top and onto the ceiling. Lacy green plants were tucked into out-of-the-way corners, and fluffy periwinkle towels lay in convenient piles.
Skye had taken all of this in, and still no one had come to help them.
She was thinking of clearing her throat to attract some attention when Trixie yelled out, “Hey, anyone here?” Joy came rushing from a back room, a container of yogurt in one hand and a plastic spoon in the other. She had the wholesome good looks of a Disney World Cinderella. She wore her dark blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her light makeup emphasized a pale gold complexion. She was dressed in a pink leotard and tights.
After ditching the yogurt container and spoon under the counter, she said, “Skye, Trixie, how nice to see you. Did you come to try out my place?”
Trixie smiled. “Yep, we thought it would be a fun girls’
thing to do.”
Skye held back a harrumph at the idea of exercise being fun, reminding herself why she was here and what she wanted to accomplish. Instead she said, “Hope you have time to show us the ropes. I’m a complete novice at this.”
“Sure. You actually picked a great hour to come. I’m usually busy until around four thirty, then everyone has to get home to cook supper. Business picks back up around six, after everyone has eaten and done the dishes.”
“Super.” Trixie took off her sweat pants and jacket, revealing bright green tights and an orange leotard. “Where do I start?”
After Joy got Trixie going on the first machine, she turned to Skye. “Why don’t you take your sweats off? You can begin over here.” She pointed to a black hulk that looked a lot like a contraption from the Spanish Inquisition.
Skye shrugged out of her gray warm-up jacket, revealing a navy T-shirt, and said, “Um, I’m a little cold. I’ll keep on my pants.” Considering she had nothing but her pink Jock-eys beneath them, this was really her only option. Who knew you needed special clothes to exercise?
Joy got Skye started, showing her where to put her arms and legs, and took a step as if to walk away.
Skye immediately botched what she was doing and called the owner back. “Could you stay with me? I’m really not good at this.”
Joy gave her a beaming smile. “Sure. No problem. I won’t let you get hurt. Don’t worry.” As Skye went through the steps, she said, “This place is beautiful. Was it hard to get it looking this way?”
“Not once I got a decent contractor,” Joy blurted out, then covered her mouth. “I mean, uh, thank you.”
“Did you hear I was using Beau Hamilton to fix up the old house I inherited?”
“Yes.”
“You used him at first, too, didn’t you?” Joy nodded.
“He sure was hot, wasn’t he?” Skye winked. “Fun to watch that boy sweat.”
Joy’s lips curled in a small smile before returning to their neutral position.
“Too bad you can’t judge a contractor by his muscles.” Skye shook her head. “Did he do as bad a job for you as he did for me?”
“He was okay.”
“Really? I heard he was so bad you had to hire someone else to finish the job.”
Joy shrugged.
“So, why didn’t you file a complaint?”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Joy, he’s dead now. He can’t hurt you,” Skye reassured the skittish woman.
“Some things never die.”
“Did he have a hold on you? Is that why you kept quiet?” By this time, Skye was panting like an eighteen-wheeler chugging uphill, and her words came out in gasps. Interrogation and exercise were not meant to go together.
“I can’t talk about it.” Joy looked up, tears in her navy blue eyes. “Please just let it alone, or you’ll ruin my life.”
Cloud Nineteen
Skye stared as Joy ran into the back room. She tried to follow the distraught woman, but couldn’t figure out how to get free of the exercise equipment. Trixie, on the other hand, gracefully vaulted from her machine and sprinted after Joy.
Skye ground her teeth as she heard their voices murmur-ing a few feet away. She couldn’t make out the words from where she was trapped. By the time she managed to wiggle free, tearing the knee out of her sweatpants and breaking a nail, Joy and Trixie had reappeared.
Trixie was saying, “Don’t worry. We won’t tell a soul. I can’t believe that fiend would hold something like that over you.”
Skye opened her mouth, but Trixie shook her head slightly. Skye nodded.
Trixie put her sweat suit back on and said to Joy, “We’ll come back another time to finish our free trial.” Trixie motioned to Skye to follow and then walked out the door.
As soon as they got outside, Skye grabbed Trixie. “What was that all about?”
“Let’s go sit in your car.” Trixie pulled Skye toward the Bel Air. “You know even the streets have ears around here.”
Once they were settled, Skye turned toward her friend and commanded, “Tell.”
“Beau was blackmailing Joy, that’s why she never complained about his work. She let him keep the deposit, and hired someone else to finish the job.” Skye nodded. “That’s exactly what Jess Larson said happened to him. Did Joy say what Beau was holding over her head? Jess wouldn’t tell.”
“It was about her little boy’s condition.”
“Alex? You mean the fact he has attention-deficit/hyper-activity disorder? That isn’t exactl
y a big secret.” Trixie sighed. “It wasn’t that he had ADHD, it was that Joy had begun to give him pills for it.”
“I thought Joy and her husband were adamantly against medicating Alex. They certainly didn’t inform the school he was taking anything. I thought my intervention plan was finally starting to work.” Skye scratched her head. “But how could Beau blackmail her about that? It’s not as if tons of other kids aren’t in the same boat.”
“The problem is her husband is still against medicating Alex. Joy is doing it without telling him.” Trixie shook her head. “The poor woman just couldn’t take her son’s behavior anymore, and since she was with him a lot more than his father was, she decided to follow the doctor’s advice, but keep it a secret.”
“What an awful thing to blackmail someone about.” Skye shifted in her seat. “Beau really was a monster.” Trixie frowned. “I wonder if Beau found some dirt on all his clients.”
“Everyone has secrets, and evidently Beau was good at finding the most sensitive ones.”
“What did he have on you?”
“Nothing.” Skye rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that pathetic? My life is so dull, he couldn’t find anything to blackmail me with.”
“I’m sure you have some terrible thing in your past you want to hide,” Trixie reassured Skye. “Maybe he just hadn’t gotten around to threatening you yet.”
“That must be it,” Skye agreed, then quipped, “Or maybe he kidnapped Bingo and was going to hold him in exchange for my silence about his shoddy work.”
“Still no luck in finding him, huh?”
“No. I can’t think of anywhere else to look.” Trixie patted Skye’s hand. “Want me to put up more posters?”
“Thanks.” Skye’s shoulders drooped. “But I think he’s really gone. It’s been six days and I’ve put up posters within a twenty-mile radius.”
Trixie paused thoughtfully. “You know, maybe Beau did take him.” She pursed her mouth. “If he did, where would he keep him?”
Skye had been kidding about the cat being stolen, but now she wondered. Beau knew she was getting fed up with him, and if he couldn’t find anything to blackmail her with, maybe he had taken her pet.
Murder of a Real Bad Boy Page 17