Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

by Denise Swanson

  The officer opened the door wider and gestured Skye inside. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that your aunt passed away sometime between noon yesterday and eight this morning. A friend who dropped her off from church stopped this morning to return a handkerchief that had been left in her car and found Miss Prynn dead. We’ve been looking for next of kin.”

  “But Mi . . . Aunt Esther hadn’t been ill. Do you know the cause of death?” She could feel her heart accelerating. This whole thing reminded Skye of her grandmother’s murder.

  “I don’t think I’m supposed to discuss that, ma’am. Ah . . . let me ask Officer Spratt.” He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his belt. “He’s checking with the neighbors.”

  She looked at the officer a little more closely. There was something odd about his attire. For one thing he didn’t seem to have a gun. “Are you a Chicago policeman? Your uniform looks different.”

  His face reddened. “Well, ah, no. I’m a citizen volunteer. But I’ll be going to the academy as soon as I pass the test.”

  Skye thought fast. If she handled this the right way she could get information the police would never share with her. “How wonderful,” she gushed. “That’s just what our city needs, more officers like you. Maybe then I’ll feel safe walking down the streets again.”

  His chest puffed out. “No need to worry once I’m on duty, ma’am.”

  “You’re so brave.” She forced out a tear. “I’m so upset about my aunt’s death. I feel like it must be my fault for not taking better care of her. But I saw her on Saturday and she looked healthy. How did you say she died?” Skye held her breath, wondering if he’d fall for it.

  “She was found in the bathroom. She must have had a bad case of the flu.” Color crept up from his collar. “You know, lots of older people die that way. There’s nothing you could have done, ma’am.”

  Now I’ve done it. I can’t mention Grandma’s murder without admitting I’m not Miss Prynn’s niece. Maybe she really did die of natural causes. What did that book say about the symptoms of the poison used on Grandma?

  It was obvious the young man was waiting for her to speak. “How terrible.” She forced out a few more tears. “Would it be all right if I made a call?”

  He frowned and she hurried to explain. “To my grandmother, Aunt Esther’s sister.”

  “Sorry, the phone’s not working. It looks like maybe she tripped and yanked the jack from the wall. Would you like to come to the station to make the call?”

  “Could I take a quick look around? Aunt Esther was getting some . . . ah . . . family papers together for me and I really need them right away.” Skye couldn’t believe she was this calm and thinking so clearly.

  “Well, I shouldn’t . . .”

  Skye moved closer and looked at him through her eyelashes. “I understand. You don’t really have the authority to make decisions . . . it’s just that I need those papers for a scholarship. If I don’t turn in my application by tomorrow I’ll lose my chance.”

  “Oh . . . go ahead. As long as I see whatever you want to remove.”

  I’m really sorry for the trouble he’s going to get into for being so nice to me.

  She smiled gratefully and headed to the room Miss Prynn had indicated yesterday was where she kept her records. Several rows of filing cabinets lined the wall of what was intended to be a bedroom. A cursory glance told Skye that the system appeared to be alphabetical. She went straight to the L’s. The drawers weren’t locked and the files were all neatly arranged.

  Skye took a tissue from her pocket and used it to rifle past Leanardo, Lemons, and stop at Levins. Where was Leofanti? She quickly checked for a misfile but found nothing. Taking a breath, she looked once again, this time noticing an empty hanging file where Leofanti would go.

  Did that mean Miss Prynn had been murdered? But by whom? Simon and Doc Zello were the only ones who knew of Skye’s interest in finding her. Did Doc have something to hide? Skye shook her head. No, that was silly. He wouldn’t have given out her address. And Simon had no motive at all.

  The officer was clearing his throat and Skye swiftly closed the drawer and joined him in the living room. “Guess she didn’t have a chance to get what I needed together. I don’t suppose I could look around for the papers.”

  The young man shook his head. “Sorry, we have to go to the station now.”

  “Thanks anyway.”

  “Sorry. Do you want to follow me to the station or would you rather ride along with me? I’ll make sure you get a lift back to your car.”

  “I’ll follow you.” Skye hoped she could slip away without his noticing. “But give me the address just in case we get separated.”

  He took out his card and jotted the information on the back. “I’ve got to lock up. I’ll meet you by the steps.”

  Skye waited for the officer to turn away from the front door. She ran to her car, dove inside, and made an illegal U-turn. Taking a right at the next corner, she prayed the young man hadn’t noticed the make and license plate of her vehicle.

  As soon as Skye was sure she wasn’t being followed, she stopped at the first working public phone. Using the card the police officer had given her, she placed an anonymous call telling him to look for jatropha curcas poisoning in Miss Prynn’s death.

  It took her a long time to drive back to Scumble River. She’d gotten thoroughly lost trying to escape from the police. When she glanced at her watch as she pulled into her driveway she was startled to see that it was ten to one. She had five minutes to prepare to meet with the superintendent.

  She was back in the car in three minutes, having only grabbed her briefcase and checked her answering machine. There was no message from Simon.

  Scumble River High School was deserted for summer vacation. This time of year it was typical for the only people in the building to be administration and custodial.

  The outer office was empty when she arrived, so she knocked on the superintendent’s door.

  When she got no answer, she slipped into the adjoining rest room, glad for the chance to freshen up.

  A few minutes later Skye heard the thumping of people knocking into furniture and the loud laughter of the inebriated. She opened the door a crack and peered out.

  Dr. Wraige and Karolyn passed by, arms around each other. Their faces were flushed and a wave of alcohol fumes rolled over Skye as they went by the rest room. Wraige whispered into the redhead’s ear before kissing her neck. She giggled in response. Skye’s mouth dropped open.

  The superintendent proceeded into his office and the secretary sat down at her desk.

  Great. Now how do I get out of here without Karolyn realizing I witnessed their little love scene? Skye wondered.

  Minutes ticked by and Skye was keenly aware that she was now late for her appointment to be fired. She was about to push open the door and test her acting ability when she heard the phone buzz and Mr. Wraige’s voice ordering Karolyn into his office.

  As soon as the secretary disappeared into the other room, Skye shot out of the bathroom and into the hall. She waited until Karolyn came back to her desk before entering again.

  The secretary looked up, then ran her finger down the page of her appointment book. “You’re late.”

  “Sorry, I got tied up and couldn’t get away.”

  “He won’t be happy.”

  Funny, he looked darn right jolly a minute ago. Skye bit back a smile.

  After the secretary buzzed her boss, Skye was shown into the inner sanctum and told to sit down. Wraige had tidied up his hair and his complexion was back to its usual gray tone.

  “Ms. Denison, thank you for coming in during the summer.” He glanced at his watch. “I hope we’re not keeping you from anything more important.”

  “No, not at all.”

  He paused, obviously waiting for her to apologize for being late. When she didn’t speak, he continued. “I hope you had a chance to review that testing we spoke of.”

  She nodded, but made no move to open
the file on her lap.

  “And did you find anything you had overlooked before?” Wraige leaned forward, a look of annoyance on his face.

  Skye smelled the mouthwash he had used in an attempt to cover the odor of alcohol. “No. As I said before, Cray Clapp is not learning disabled. He has an IQ of one hundred and twenty-nine and his achievement scores are all within the expected limit for that ability level. Furthermore, there are no signs of any processing problems.”

  “The mayor is going to be very unhappy.” Wraige rose from his chair, swaying slightly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but parents are often unhappy with the outcome of my tests. That doesn’t mean I am free to change those results.” Skye leaned back and looked into his bloodshot eyes.

  “Your lack of team spirit may very well influence our decision whether to keep you on for next year.”

  “Perhaps you forgot, but if you aren’t going to renew my contract you need to notify me in March, according to the union agreement.” Skye held his gaze.

  “There’s always a loophole for incompetence.”

  “I see.”

  Wraige smiled cruelly. “And with your past history, ineptitude shouldn’t be hard to prove.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to hear the truth about my previous dismissal?”

  “I don’t really care about the truth.”

  “Your contract is up for renewal this year too, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t think your Uncle Charlie can save you this time.” Wraige sat on the edge of his desk.

  “Actually, I was thinking more of the other board members. Especially Mrs. Hopkins.” Skye watched his puzzled expression. “Isn’t she a close friend of your wife?”

  “Yes, Roberta and Patricia are friends. What does that have to do with anything?” His brows met over his nose.

  “What if I told you I wasn’t late for our meeting? That I was actually early and in the rest room?” Skye waited as he mentally reviewed the afternoon’s activities. A series of emotions played across his face.

  “So?” His voice cracked.

  “Well, if I were called into a board meeting to defend my job performance, I would be forced to tell about this meeting.” She noted the way his body sagged against the desk’s surface. “And, being the thorough person that I am, I would start my description with you and Karolyn’s entrance into the office.”

  “You have no proof.” His face was almost purple with rage.

  “Neither do you.” Skye rose and gathered her belongings. “Can I count on this being the end of the Clapp matter?”

  After a long moment he nodded.

  “And the end of talk about firing me?”

  An even longer pause, then another nod.

  “Fine.” Skye turned back before she opened the door. “Just remember, even though psychologists are trained to keep things confidential, we do keep excellent records.”

  CHAPTER 22

  See How They Run

  Skye took a deep breath and leaned back against the headrest. It had worked! She had actually outmaneuvered the superintendent. Surprised to discover she was sweating, she took a tissue from her pocket and wiped her face. Of course, she hadn’t gained any friends in the process, and would really have to watch her back in the future.

  The first thing Skye did after arriving home was to call the hospital. She confirmed that Minnie had not been released and couldn’t have been the one to poison Miss Prynn.

  As she hung up the phone, the doorbell rang. Skye looked out the window and saw Junior Doozier on her front step. Junior was the nine-year-old son of Earl and Glenda. He had come to Skye’s assistance after the “accident” with her car last fall. For the rest of the year, she had made a point of dropping into his classroom to say hi.

  Skye opened the door. “Junior, what a nice surprise. How did you get all the way over here?” He lived on the other side of town.

  He thrust an envelope at her. “You need to see this, Miz Denison.”

  “Okay.” Skye stepped aside. “Come on in. I’ll get you a soda.”

  “Read that first.” Junior followed her into the kitchen.

  She extracted a piece of letterhead stationery and skimmed the contents. It was from the Department of Children and Family Services and said that if Mr. Doozier continued to fail to cooperate with their caseworker, DCFS would take Cletus from him.

  “Where did you get this? It’s addressed to your Uncle Hap and is very private.”

  “He had me read it to him. And when I finished he grabbed his rifle and said he was coming over here to kill you.” Junior’s freckles stood out like specks of blood on his pale face.

  “When was this?” Skye asked over her shoulder as she checked the locks on the door and snatched her shotgun from inside the hall bench’s seat.

  “About an hour ago. I hid in the back of his pickup when he drove off. He stopped at the Brown Bag and I hitched a ride with someone coming this way.”

  “You sure he said he’d kill me?” Skye dialed the phone as she talked to the boy.

  “Yes, ma’am. And he weren’t foolin’. He blames you for startin’ the whole thing. He thought you’d stop DCFS after he slashed your tires and broke your windows, but you didn’t do nothing, so he gave you the last warning. Deer blood on your door.”

  Why wasn’t anyone answering at the police station? “I can’t stop DCFS. Once I make a report it’s out of my hands. And I didn’t understand the warnings.”

  Finally the dispatcher came on the line. “Scumble River Police Station. Can you hold?”

  “No!” Skye shouted into the phone. “Is that you, Thea? It’s Skye. Put me through to Wally right now. It’s an emergency.”

  “Sure, honey, just a sec.”

  A moment later Wally came on the line, his voice expressionless. “Yes?”

  Skye explained what Junior had told her.

  Wally’s tone became immediately forceful. “Stay where you are. Keep the boy with you. We’ll pick up Doozier at the bar and then call you.”

  She hung up and turned toward Junior. “Chief Boyd will take care of your uncle.”

  Junior was silent for a while. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about Uncle Hap. I never thought he’d really hurt you.”

  “I know. And I appreciate your telling me now. You probably saved my life.” Skye patted the boy’s shoulder. “Believe me, I know it’s hard to figure out what to do when family is involved.”

  Twenty minutes later, Wally called back to say they had Hap in custody. Skye drove Junior home. He asked her not to talk to his folks, and she respected his choice, but gave him her phone number in case he changed his mind or needed her help.

  Skye’s mind was preoccupied by the events of the last few hours as she arrived at her Aunt Mona and Uncle Neal’s place. They lived in a large house perched on the southern edge of their acreage, surrounded by perfectly maintained farm buildings.

  Neal opened the door, his expression unreadable. “Skye, please come in.”

  Cherry, their twenty-five pound Chihuahua, stood by his side. She looked like a scuba tank with legs.

  He led her through the mirrored foyer and into the living room.

  “Here,” Skye said. “I thought maybe you and Aunt Mona would enjoy this.” She handed him a bottle of wine.

  “Thank you. I’ll put it away for a special occasion.” Neal walked out a door opposite the one they had come through.

  Cherry stood and stared at Skye. She ignored the animal, having had her fingers nipped by the dog once before. Instead Skye gazed at the lavish decor. The room was done in brocade and velvet, punctuated with gleaming oak tables, stunning floral arrangements, and a selection of beautifully framed art.

  Skye peered inside an imposing curio cabinet in a corner next to the windows. Nestled behind the most immense assembly of crystal and porcelain figurines this side of Marshall Field’s, she noticed a bit of black leather.

  Skye had her nose pressed to the glass trying to get a better
view when Mona and Neal entered.

  Her aunt’s smile tightened. “Is there something of my collection I could show you, Skye?”

  Skye allowed herself to be guided to a seat on the sofa. “No, just admiring the whole effect.”

  “Thank you. Would you care for something to drink? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” Mona perched on the edge of a wing chair facing Skye.

  “No, thank you.”

  The ticking of the grandfather clock marked off the seconds as the trio sat looking at each other. Skye searched for something to say.

  Mona finally spoke. “We saw you at Mass yesterday. Why didn’t you go to communion?”

  Skye felt her face turn red and she opened her mouth, but at first no words came out. “You know, Aunt Mona, that’s a pretty personal question.”

  “It is the duty of family to monitor the spiritual well-being of its young,” Mona said, as if reciting something she’d memorized.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Skye managed to say through gritted teeth.

  “Father Burns has confession on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Tomorrow it’s from nine to ten,” Mona said. “You should go.”

  “Maybe I will. Thank you for the information.” Skye wondered how soon she could gracefully leave.

  The sound of an oven timer allowed them to retreat to their neutral corners.

  Neal looked at Mona and frowned. “Are you going to do something about that?”

  Mona jumped up. “Sorry, dear. Dinner is ready.”

  Conversation around the table did not improve. As Skye’s impatience grew, her discretion decreased.

  When dessert was served, Skye asked, “Aunt Mona, do you remember going away with Aunt Minnie when you were in high school?”

  “No.” Mona arched an eyebrow. “What was the occasion?”

  “Aunt Minnie wasn’t feeling well and needed a rest.” Skye looked Mona in the eye. “A nurse from Chicago came and got you and took you somewhere.”

  “Out of respect for your Aunt Minnie we won’t talk about that.” A tic was visible under Mona’s eye. “I hope you aren’t going to drag all of that out.”