Dead in the Water

by Denise Swanson

  Changing into one of her newly purchased nightshirts, she brushed her teeth and collapsed on the unbelievably soft mattress. When the aroma of bacon woke her from a weird dream about a talking scarecrow, Skye knew it had to be morning but wasn’t sure how long she’d been dead to the world. It had been a couple of months since she’d been able to sleep for more than an hour at a time, but evidently exhaustion trumped the discomforts of being hugely pregnant.

  Thankful she’d remembered to buy a watch, she checked the time. It was nearly nine o’clock.

  Shoot! She’d wanted to be at the police station by eight and she wasn’t even out of bed yet. Either her next shopping trip needed to include a clock radio or she had to figure out how to set the alarm on her cell phone.

  After a quick shower, she pulled on a pair of navy Bermuda shorts and a white-and-navy top. She didn’t bother with makeup. It was supposed to be a scorcher today, so any cosmetics she applied would just melt right off her face. The predicted heat also meant that wearing her hair in any style other than a French braid was just asking for a frizzy mess.

  When Skye emerged from the bedroom, she found Carson issuing orders into his phone while he slid perfectly fried eggs onto a pair of waiting plates. Toast and bacon were already on the dishes and he waved Skye to a chair.

  Finishing his call, he placed breakfast in front of Skye, grabbed a container of hot sauce from his briefcase, and joined her at the dinette table. Skye noticed that the bottle’s handmade label had the words EAST TEXAS BURN printed in red.

  “Is Quentin in Illinois yet?” Skye asked as she took a bite of toast.

  She gazed longingly at Carson’s coffee. Her ob-gyn had approved one cup a day, but she tried to save it for midmorning when she usually needed a boost. The current crises had her considering breaking the rules and having two doses of liquid energy today.

  “He’s still in Texas.” Carson poured hot sauce over his eggs. “By the time the weather cleared up here and the plane was able to take off from O’Hare, the storm had traveled to Texas. It’s supposed to blow itself out in the next couple of hours and the pilot says they can take off then. Quentin and Tuck should be in Scumble River by five thirty at the latest.”

  “Okay. That should be fine,” Skye said, reassuring herself. “That’s still more than six hours before the deadline. There’s no need to worry.”

  “Absolutely none at all.” Carson ate his eggs and bacon, then asked, “Any idea how we’re going to solve the Lyons murder?”

  “I’ve been going over the facts in my head.” Skye drummed the tabletop with her fingernails. “I think our best course of action is to pursue the personal angle because I’m fairly certain that Zeke knew the person who attacked him. Someone would have had to get pretty close to him to zap him repeatedly in the chest. And there’s the choice of weapon. I doubt looters carry stun guns. I’d swear Zeke’s murder wasn’t a matter of wrong place, wrong time.”

  “So we look into his life.” Carson got up, fetched his laptop, and powered it up. “Good thing this motor coach has Wi-Fi.”

  “What are you doing?” Skye watched her father-in-law’s fingers dance over the keyboard as she finished eating her breakfast.

  “Digging into Zeke Lyons’s background.” Carson continued to stare at the screen.

  “You can do that?” Skye resisted the siren song of the coffeepot, got up, took a jug of milk from the refrigerator, and poured a glass. “Are you hacking into some database?”

  “Not at all.” Carson grinned. “I’m using employee screening software.”

  “And it can be applied to anyone?”

  “Yep.” Carson typed additional information into the laptop.

  Skye leaned forward and peered over her father-in-law’s shoulder. “What did you find out about Zeke?”

  “That he’s a dull, dull man.” Carson wrinkled his brow. “He’s fifty-two and has worked as an accountant at Grandma Sal’s Fine Foods since he graduated from Illinois College. Until this previous spring, he lived in the same apartment in Brooklyn for almost thirty years. In June of last year, he bought a house in Scumble River. A few days later, he married Billie Gulch.”

  “Does it mention he was recently elected to our city council?”

  “Uh-huh.” Carson squinted at the computer screen and muttered, “Bingo.”

  “What?” Skye couldn’t see what had excited her father-in-law.

  “On their first anniversary, which was two months ago, a half-million-dollar life insurance policy was purchased on Zeke Lyons. His wife is the sole beneficiary.”

  “Yikes! That’s not a good sign.” Skye drained her milk glass, brought it to the kitchen counter, and after squirting dish detergent into the sink, turned on the hot water. “I need to talk to Roy and see what he’s done about the murder.”

  “Without Wally here, will the sergeant share information with you?” Carson closed his laptop and put it back into his briefcase.

  “I think so.” Skye cleared the table and put the plates in the sink. “Now that I am officially employed by the department as a psych consultant, I’m usually asked to work on any serious case that’s difficult to solve.”

  “I’m ready to leave whenever you are,” Carson said, picking up his briefcase.

  “Let me grab my purse.” Skye dried her hands. “The dishes can soak.”

  As Carson drove them to the station, Skye realized it was odd she hadn’t gotten any calls or messages since last night. She checked her cell and found it had been set to vibrate.

  Glancing at her father-in-law’s fake-innocent expression, she suspected he had pilfered it from her purse and silenced it. Heck! He was even more protective than her mother.

  The thought of the two of them working together to “safeguard” her made Skye shudder. She was hanging on to her sanity by her fingernails, and if Carson and May teamed up to take care of her, that might be the nudge that shoved her over the edge.

  Turning back to her phone, Skye listened to a voicemail from both the home and automobile insurance adjusters, stating that they’d appraised the property damage and would like to meet with her to go over their report. Skye sent both guys a text, putting them off for the next couple of days.

  Next, she played the voicemails from her brother and sister-in-law. May had told them about Wally’s disappearance and they offered to help. Vince said he was available to search and Loretta wanted to come and be with Skye. She called both and assured them that if she needed them, she would let them know.

  There were also numerous messages from her Alpha Sigma Alpha sorority sisters around the country asking if she and Wally were okay. Their concern made her smile. Good friends were like the stars up above—they may not always be visible, but they are always there.

  Skye sent a group message, assuring everyone that she and Wally had survived the tornado and she would give them more details once the dust had settled and she had the time. There was no need to worry them with Wally’s abduction. They couldn’t do anything to help, and Skye couldn’t cope with more phone calls.

  After a quick text to Dorothy Snyder, her part-time cleaning lady, to inform her that she wouldn’t be needed for the foreseeable future but her salary would continue to be paid, Skye took a deep breath and faced the several voicemails from May.

  Skye shuddered. Horror movies didn’t scare Skye, but five missed calls from her mother did. She quickly texted May that she was fine and spending the day with Wally’s dad, hoping that would satisfy her mom and save her from May’s hysteria when they finally came face-to-face.

  Knowing what she did about Wally’s circumstances, Skye played Roy’s message last. She felt guilty about not telling the sergeant that his chief had been kidnapped, and even guiltier when Roy reported that while Wally’s cell had been briefly powered on, it wasn’t in service long enough to track. Skye figured the techs picked up the signal when the ph
one was used by the kidnapper to contact Carson.

  Roy also said the state police’s aerial search hadn’t turned up anything, but the Scumble River officers would be finished clearing the tornado-damaged houses by noon and would begin a grid search for the chief.

  Skye assured herself that none of what had been done or would be done was wasted man-hours. If the police found Wally before the ransom was paid, whatever efforts Roy put in place would have been well worth it.

  When Carson parked the Hummer in the PD’s lot, Skye managed to get out of the vehicle without her father-in-law’s assistance and hurried into the garage as fast as her pregnancy-swollen body would allow. As she unlocked the door to the station and went inside, Carson caught up to her. No one was in the rear, so she and her father-in-law walked to the front to ask Thea to find Roy for her.

  Thea told her the sergeant was using the chief’s office and Skye clenched her hands into fists. Intellectually, she understood he was now in charge and needed the space and privacy, but emotionally, it still felt like he was pushing Wally aside and usurping his position.

  Carson remained quiet as they climbed the stairs. Skye knew he was used to being in control and this situation had to be as hard on him as it was on her. However, she didn’t have the energy to soothe him, so she just gave him an encouraging smile before knocking lightly on the half-closed door.

  Without waiting for the sergeant to respond, she poked her head inside the room and said, “Can I talk to you a minute, Roy?”

  “Of course.” He half stood and said, “Please sit down.” Looking behind Skye, he added, “Mr. Boyd, I didn’t realize you were in town, sir. Let me assure you we are doing everything in our power to find your son.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Carson shook the sergeant’s hand, then sat beside Skye in the second visitor chair.

  “Sorry I didn’t pick up your call, Roy.” Skye shot her father-in-law a scowl. “The volume on my phone was mysteriously muted.”

  “No problem.” The sergeant resumed his seat behind the desk. “I’m sure you needed your rest, and there wasn’t any news.”

  “Can you bring me up to speed on what’s been done so far?” Carson asked.

  “We’ve pushed all the radio traffic to another channel to keep the system clear.” Roy ticked off the items on his fingers. “Notified all state, county, and local first responders.”

  “I’m sure with the severity of the twister damage, most of those agencies are already maxed out regarding personnel,” Carson said, raising a dark brow. “Skye tells me an ILEAS team was previously mobilized and I suspect other towns have also called for their help.”

  “That’s correct.” The sergeant scrubbed his hand over his closely shaved head. “The multiple tornadoes have drained most of their resources.”

  “How about the county tech team?” Skye asked. “You mentioned that Wally’s cell phone was turned on briefly. Are they still monitoring it and attempting to triangulate the location?”

  Roy nodded. “Absolutely. But nothing more so far.”

  “But you expect to begin a grid search within an hour or so,” Carson stated.

  “Actually, the first team is already in the field, sir.” The sergeant pushed a map across the desktop and pointed to one of the highlighted sections. “Alpha squad started here about ten minutes ago.”

  When Skye saw that Roy was indicating the area near the Hutton dairy farm, she glanced worriedly at her father-in-law. What if the searchers interfered with the ransom drop and got Wally killed?

  Carson met her eyes, then said, “I’m glad you had them start there, Sergeant. Skye was telling me that she, Wally, and her godfather had discussed that place as a possibility for the school to use for classes, so my son might have gone there to check it out.”

  “This morning, I remembered the chief mentioning that to me, which is why I put the first team there,” Roy said.

  “Good thinking.” Carson smiled, then said mildly, “If we don’t have some results by tomorrow, I’m bringing in my own team of investigators.”

  The sergeant bristled. “There’s no need to do that, sir. This is an officer-in-jeopardy case and we are pulling out all the stops.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Carson’s jaw clenched. “But additional resources are always helpful.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s not who finds my son. It’s that he’s found. Don’t you agree, Quirk?”

  Roy’s face turned a dull red and he clenched his fists. Skye could almost see the steam coming from his ears. She was afraid her father-in-law’s words had just put a match to the sergeant’s notoriously short fuse.

  “Roy”—Skye softened her voice—“I know between the tornadoes and Wally’s disappearance, you’ve had your hands full. And I really appreciate all you’ve done.” She exhaled in relief when the sergeant nodded at her and leaned back in his chair. “Which is why I was thinking perhaps I could assist you with the Lyons investigation.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Roy’s expression was a little guilty and Skye guessed that he hadn’t even thought about the murder.

  “You’ll be doing me a favor, Roy.” Skye rubbed her stomach. “If I just sit around waiting to hear about Wally, I’ll go crazy and stress is bad for the baby. I really need to keep my mind occupied.”

  “Okay.” The sergeant’s tone was reluctant. “But Wally would kill me if you talked to suspects alone, and I don’t have anyone I can spare to go with you.”

  “I’ll be accompanying my daughter-in-law wherever she goes,” Carson stated.

  “Well…” Quirk hesitated, obviously unsure of what he should do.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Carson said, “I’m licensed to carry.”

  “Fine.” Roy shot Skye a stern look. “But I want you to keep me apprised of your movements and promise not to take any chances.”

  “Believe me, Sergeant, you have my word as a Texan that nothing will happen to Skye.” Carson stood. “Or my grandchild.”

  “Can I have the Lyons file, Roy?” Skye asked as Carson helped her to her feet.

  “I saw it just a minute ago.” The sergeant pawed through the piles of papers on Wally’s desk, finally grabbing a thin folder. “Here it is.”

  “Where would be a good place for us to work?” Skye glanced around sadly. She usually camped out in Wally’s office when she was at the station.

  “With everyone in the field, the interrogation/coffee room isn’t needed.” Roy shrugged. “And it’s the only place with a door.”

  “That’ll be fine.” Skye clutched the file to her chest. “Thanks.”

  Once Skye and Carson were settled in the interrogation/coffee room with the door closed, Skye said, “I’m really worried that the kidnapper is watching the Hutton farm and will be scared off by the search team.”

  “The guy who called me didn’t seem like a hothead.” Carson put his arm around her shoulder. “If he is observing the place, he’ll wait to see what the searchers do. And since they won’t find anything, they’ll move on quickly and the kidnapper will just wait for the money.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Skye chewed on her thumbnail. “I feel guilty for not telling Roy that we heard from Wally and about the ransom demand.” She looked at her father-in-law. “Maybe if we told him, there’d be something he could do to find Wally.”

  “Darlin’, I know this is killing you, but the sergeant admitted that not only are his resources stretched thin, but so are the state’s and the county’s.” Carson kissed Skye’s temple. “If they knew about the kidnapping, what could they possibly do to find him that they aren’t already doing? And telling Quirk could put Wally at risk.”

  “You’re right, Dad,” Skye whispered. “But I’m just so scared.”

  “Like you said to the sergeant, the best thing for you is to get your mind on something else.” Carson flipped open the Lyons file. “Where do
you think we should start?”

  “Considering the recent life insurance policy, I’ll go along with what Wally always says.” Skye tapped the picture of Billie Lyons attached to folder. “The spouse is always the best suspect.”

  Chapter 14

  “For my life is simply unbearable without a bit of courage.”

  —Cowardly Lion

  Interviewing Billie Lyons would have been a whole lot easier if the woman’s entire street hadn’t been destroyed by the tornado. Or if Skye had been able to find a local relative, or even a close friend of the elusive Mrs. Lyons. Or if anyone could tell Skye where the heck Billie and her mother were staying.

  Skye had called all of the most plugged-in Scumble River busybodies and still hadn’t been able to get a lead on Widow Lyons’s current location. Aunt Minnie, the queen bee of the gossip hive, had suggested checking out the shelter provided by the Methodist church.

  However, when Skye phoned the number provided by her aunt, the church’s volunteer coordinator hadn’t had any record of either Billie or her mother ever checking in to the shelter. They also hadn’t registered with the Red Cross or posted their whereabouts on the whiteboards at the police station.

  With no idea where to look for Billie and having run out of tattletales to cross-examine, Skye and Carson opted for plan B: a chat with Zeke Lyons’s employer, Grandma Sal’s Fine Foods.

  Fine Foods had been a part of Scumble River for close to forty years. Built in the late 1960s, the factory had pretty near singlehandedly saved the town from dying out—the fate of many of the neighboring agricultural-dependent communities.

  The plant employed a large percentage of the area’s residents and provided jobs for the next generation, who otherwise would have had to move away in order to make a living. The company had always been a good neighbor, making generous contributions to the local charities and sponsoring several sports teams.