Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

by Denise Swanson

  Father Burns and Skye locked the secret passage behind them and pushed an old dresser in front of the panel. As they struggled with the heavy piece of furniture they heard more gunshots coming from the church. Skye prayed no one would walk in on Mona’s rampage.

  “What now?” the priest asked.

  Skye noted his heightened color and rapid breathing. “You stay here, and I’ll go upstairs and phone the police.”

  He nodded and sank down into an old chair. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get through the passage.”

  “Good.” Skye was halfway up the stairs when the door from the rectory burst open. She yelped and turned to run.

  “What are you two doing down here?” the parish housekeeper asked.

  Father Burns moved forward and put an arm around Skye. “Skye’s aunt is trying to kill her.”

  “Lord have mercy!” The older woman clutched her chest.

  “Stay here with Father. I’ll call the police,” Skye ordered.

  After telephoning Wally, Skye started to check the doors. None were locked. She had just reached the vestibule when the front door burst open.

  Mona stood with her gun pointed at Skye. “Did you really think you could get away from me?”

  “It’s too late. I’ve called the police. There’s nothing left to cover up. Everyone knows.” Skye tried to back away.

  “Then I have nothing to lose.” Mona took aim.

  At that moment they heard the first siren.

  “Please, Aunt Mona, put the gun down. Don’t make the police shoot you,” Skye begged.

  A look of loathing crossed Mona’s features. “This is all your fault and you have to pay.” Without warning, she squeezed the trigger.

  Nothing happened. Mona squeezed again and again. She was out of bullets. They could hear doors opening and shoe leather slapping the pavement. The police had arrived.

  Mona tried to grab Skye, but without a gun she was no match for her niece. Skye stepped into her aunt’s grasp, turned sharply, and easily broke Mona’s grip. Once again Skye’s training in takedowns for uncontrollable kids came in handy.

  Enraged, Mona threw the gun at Skye, rushed past and out the kitchen door. Skye hesitated for a moment before running after her. She reached the door just in time to see Mona fling herself into the Buick and squeal out of the parking lot.

  A few seconds later Chief Boyd and Officer Quirk ran in. Skye hastily told them what had happened, and Wally sent Quirk in pursuit of Mona. He also radioed for help from the county sheriff, and ordered in all off-duty officers.

  May and Charlie arrived at the rectory soon afterward, having heard the dispatches on their police radio scanners.

  They were all in the priest’s office and everyone was talking. Finally Wally shouted, “Okay, the first person who speaks without being spoken to leaves the room. You shouldn’t all be here anyway, but it would take more officers than I have available to make you leave. So sit down and shut up!”

  Skye was seated on the sofa between May and Charlie. Father Burns was at his desk. His housekeeper stood behind him as if on guard.

  Wally paced between the two groups. Finally he turned to Skye. “Tell me what happened after your aunt showed up at your house.”

  After Skye ran through the events up to the time she arrived at the church, Wally addressed the priest. “Why did you believe Skye so readily? Your fast thinking probably saved both your lives. When we checked, Mona had emptied six bullets into the confessionals.”

  Father Burns looked down at the rosary in his hands. “I can’t tell you a lot. I’m bound by the seal of the confessional, but let’s just say I knew Skye was telling the truth.”

  Wally narrowed his eyes. “In other words, Mona confessed to you?”

  “I really can’t say one way or another. Why does it matter?” Father Burns sat motionlessly.

  “Then let’s move on to the convenient passage between the church and rectory. How long has that been there?” Wally leaned his hands on the desk’s edge.

  “It’s been there as long as the church has been. We were a stop on the Underground Railroad.”

  “Why didn’t I know that?” Wally asked.

  “Because we keep it quiet. We don’t want to take away from the purpose of the church. We even considered filling in the tunnel the last time we remodeled, but decided at the last minute to keep it open.”

  “Thank God.” Skye sighed.

  As a result of Officer Quirk’s pursuit, Mona skidded off the road and wrapped the Buick around a tree on Scumble River Road heading toward Kankakee. The old car didn’t have air bags and Mona wasn’t wearing her seat belt. She was dead before they reached the hospital.

  The family grieved, but among themselves they agreed that it was probably for the best. They would try to remember Mona as she was, before trying to keep her secret had become a burden she could no longer shoulder.

  A few days after her aunt’s death, Skye received a phone call from someone saying he was Miss Prynn’s great-nephew and he had a file that his aunt had asked him to hold for safekeeping. Skye’s name and number were on a slip of paper inside the folder, and he wanted to know if she still wanted it.

  She said no.

  Epilogue

  It was the second Saturday in September, and school had been back in session for a couple of weeks. As promised, Simon had not called. It had been a sad summer. Skye sat at the counter peeling apples and watching May make applesauce. “Mom, we’ve never really talked about what happened with Aunt Mona. Would you rather I had left things alone?”

  May didn’t answer for a while. She finally turned from the stove. “I still miss Mona. She wasn’t always like that. She was so smart. We thought for sure she would go to college and have a career.”

  “Do you know why she didn’t?”

  “Neal started to court her during her senior year in high school. He was a couple years older and already a successful farmer.” May stirred silently for a few seconds. “I think maybe Dad pressured Mona into marrying Neal. I know he always said he wasn’t paying for any of us girls to go to college.”

  “I had no idea. My image of Mona is so different from that.” Skye closed her eyes. “I don’t remember ever seeing her without her guard up.”

  “Mona used to be such fun. She loved shopping with me for your baby clothes. She loved taking care of you and dressing you up.”

  “I don’t recall her spending any time with me.”

  “She stopped when she found out she couldn’t have children. After that she changed. Appearances and possessions became everything to her. Everyone had to envy her or she wasn’t happy.” May wiped away a tear. “And Neal didn’t like her to spend much time with her family.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t think we were good enough.”

  Skye and May worked in silence for a while. Finally Skye said, “You didn’t answer my question. Would you rather I’d left things alone?”

  May stopped stirring. “No, I guess some things just can’t be swept under the rug. That’s what happened with Mona, really. Dad wanted to keep everything hidden.”

  “Secrets will destroy any family.” Skye concentrated on peeling an apple without breaking the spiral of skin.

  “I suppose so.” May added sugar to the sliced apples in the pan. “That’s why Minnie and I decided to confront Dante.”

  Skye was halfway through without breaking off the skin. “So you weren’t surprised to learn that Uncle Dante and the lawyer were skimming off some of Grandma’s money?”

  “Not really. I think we all knew he was up to something. He spent so much more money than the rest of us. Even Mom knew. But it was always on farm equipment he used for the estate, so we could tell ourselves it wasn’t really stealing. Another family secret no one wanted to face.” May sprinkled cinnamon into the mixture.

  “Hugo’s been very quiet lately about the advantages of selling Grandma’s land to a developer,” Skye said.

  “Your dad and Emmett h
ad a talk with him and that Castleview guy. I think that settled Hugo’s hash. They made both of them see we would never sell the land for a housing development.” May turned the burner down to let the applesauce simmer.

  “Look, I got one off without breaking it.” Skye held up the ribbon of bright red skin.

  “Good, now drop it on the counter and it will form the initial of the man you’re going to marry.” May leaned over to get a better view.

  Skye let the peel slide between her fingers. “I can’t tell what letter it looks like.”

  May stepped closer. “It’s an R, of course, for Reid.” Even though May knew that Skye and Simon had broken up last June, May never gave up on a prospective son-in-law.

  Skye tilted her head and looked at the red skin. She could see how her mom thought it looked like an R, but to her it kind of looked like a B for Boyd or maybe even a K. Didn’t that new English teacher’s name start with a K?

  Following is a preview of the next

  Scumble River mystery

  Murder of a Sleeping Beauty

  coming from Signet in 2002.

  CHAPTER 1

  From Bad to Hearse

  As a school psychologist, Skye Denison had dealt with many recalcitrant teens, but Justin Boward would be the death of her yet. He refused to talk. She was beginning to think his entire vocabulary consisted of yes, no, and the occasional grunt. Although she knew that adolescents were the same as cats—neither reacted when you spoke to them—his lack of response to her attempts to draw him out was starting to make her feel like a failure. A feeling she was way too familiar with already.

  Two years ago Skye had been forced to crawl back to Scumble River, Illinois, after finding herself fired, jilted, and broke. It had been hard enough to return to the rural Midwestern town she had escaped as a teenager, but the citizens’ long memories had made it even worse. Hardly a week went by without someone reminding Skye of what she had said twelve years ago in her valedictorian speech. Back then, the moment the words had left her mouth, she’d regretted saying that Scumble River was full of small-minded people with even smaller intellects. She had regretted it even more since she’d moved back home.

  She sneaked a peek at her watch as she pushed a stray chestnut curl under her headband. It was twenty-five minutes before the Scumble River High School dismissal bell would ring. Once again, she attempted to make eye contact with the teen seated kitty-corner from her at the small trapezoidal table. He ducked his head and studied his chewed fingernails. Justin had not spoken three words to her in their fifteen minutes together. Skye searched her mind for some pithy comment.

  Before she could think of what to say, a girl she vaguely recognized flung the door open and stumbled inside. The girl bent over, trying to catch her breath, and spoke between gasps. “Sleeping Beauty is dead.”

  “What?” Was this teen speak for: Run, the cops are here? Was she supposed to answer: The gray wolf howls at midnight? Skye’s emerald-green eyes raked the adolescent, who was standing just past the office threshold, still-hunched over, hands on her knees. She was dressed in low-riding, wide-legged denims and a hooded belly top. Her bleached two-tone hair fell to the middle of her back, and her navel was pierced.

  Skye quickly examined her mental file and decided that the girl probably hung with either the Rebels or the Skanks. Of Scumble River High’s five or six cliques, these were the two roughest. The Cheerleaders, the Jocks, and the Nerds had much more teacher-pleasing behavior. What was this girl up to?

  The adolescent finally straightened and grabbed Skye by the wrist. “Something abhorrent has happened. You have to come right now. Hurry!”

  Skye found herself half running, half being dragged down the long hall. Orange lockers went by in a blur, and the smell of that day’s lunch caught in her throat.

  The teen skidded to a halt before the closed gym doors and pointed. “In there.”

  “Who are you? And what are you talking about?”

  “This is just FYI. I’m out of here.” The girl tried to push past Skye and head back down the corridor.

  Skye grabbed the hood of her top. “Oh, no, you don’t. Explain.”

  “Hey, Cujo! Back in your cage.” The teen twisted violently, trying to free herself. She turned an anger-filled stare on Skye, who met her gaze without blinking. Finally, the girl shrugged. “So, okay. I cut my eighth-period study hall, and I was hanging around here and there, waiting until my buds got out of school. I wanted a cigarette, and knew there was no PE last hour, so I went in the gym. It was dark. I thought I saw someone on the stage, so I went closer. That’s when I saw her. What’s her name? The cheer-leader playing Sleeping Beauty. She was lying there dead.”

  The teen tried again to free herself. Skye refused to let go. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re staying with me. Let’s check this out. Sleeping Beauty was probably just rehearsing or taking a nap.” Under her breath she muttered, “Or maybe she was afraid of you.”

  Side by side they entered the unlit gym. As her eyes adjusted, Skye could just make out the stage at the opposite end of the room. It held partially completed sets for the spring musical Sleeping Beauty. She moved forward, a firm grip on her prisoner’s hood. Half walls and skeletal trees loomed in the darkness. While they climbed the steps up to the stage, Skye wondered if she were doing the right thing. She didn’t think the faculty handbook covered this situation.

  To their right, a mock castle bedroom had been set up. Lying on the twin bed was one of the most beautiful young women Skye had ever seen. Her straight blond hair brushed the floor, and her face was a flawless oval. She had passed from the awkwardness of adolescence and was yet to be touched by the hand of time. She was perfect.

  Skye took a closer look at the young woman. Her skin had a waxy appearance and was almost blue-gray in color. Her lips and nails were pale. Skye rushed to the bed and checked for a pulse. She could feel nothing over the thud of her own heartbeat. She put her ear to the girl’s chest. Again nothing. Finally, she placed the back of her hand to the teen’s mouth. She wasn’t breathing.

  Skye forced herself to remain calm and tried to remember what she had learned in her first aid course. Nothing applied to this situation. Sleeping Beauty was dead.