“Then you don’t have to tell Boyd about the investment, just that Xavier and Orlando are old army buddies, right?”
“Yes.” Skye thought for a moment. “That’s all I’ll say as long as this is an accidental death.” She gestured to the cabinet without looking at it. She really didn’t want to see poor Risé again. “But if the situation changes . . .”
“Right.” Simon sighed. “I know.”
Xavier was getting out of the hearse when Skye walked outside. His normally pale complexion was even pastier than usual, his expression was apprehensive, and he was wringing his hands. She should have realized that when Simon called him for a pickup at Tales and Treats, he’d be worried the victim was one of the store owners. Poor guy. The loss of Risé would hit him hard. He didn’t have many close friends.
As soon as Skye explained Xavier’s friendship with the store owners, Wally hurried over to the hearse.
The two men spoke quietly for a couple of minutes; then Skye heard Xavier say, “They’re staying at the Up A Lonely River Motor Court. They’re supposed to move into their apartment above the store Monday afternoon after the building inspector green-lights the remodeling.”
Darn! Skye exhaled loudly. Her godfather, “Uncle” Charlie Patukas, was the owner and manager of the motor court, president of the school board, and Scumble River’s most influential citizen. He was also one of the biggest gossips in the county. They’d have to be cagey if they didn’t want news of the fatality to be all around town by nightfall. It would be even worse if Skye’s mother were the dispatcher on duty, but May didn’t work on Sundays.
Before Wally could make the call to Orlando, Anthony, one of the part-time police officers, parked his truck behind the hearse and jumped out.
He waved a fistful of bright orange straps and said, “I brought these. Dad uses them to move appliances when he’s on a job alone.”
“Good thinking.” Wally smiled. “Glove up. Then go on inside and get things set with Reid. I’ll be there in a second.”
Anthony touched his finger to the brim of his baseball cap. “Sure thing, Chief.” He nodded to Skye, then rushed past her into the store.
While Xavier got the gurney and body bag from the back of the hearse, Wally joined Skye on the sidewalk. “Would you mind calling Orlando at the motor court?”
“Not at all.” Skye powered up her cell phone. “What should I say?”
“Just tell him there’s an emergency and he’s needed here immediately.”
“Okay.” Skye started punching in the number to the motor court, one she knew by heart. “Should I mention our missed appointment if Uncle Charlie wants to know why I want to talk to Orlando?”
“That’s a great idea.” Wally squeezed her free hand. “The longer we can keep the death quiet, the better.”
As Wally strode over the shop’s threshold, Skye turned her attention to the phone.
A second later, Charlie answered, “Up A Lazy River Motor Court.”
“Hi, Uncle Charlie. It’s Skye. Could you put me through to Orlando Erwin’s cottage?”
“Why do you want to talk to him?” Charlie was nearly as bad as May in wanting to control Skye’s life.
Skye explained, ending with, “Have you seen him around today?”
“Can’t say as I have,” Charlie said, his voice thoughtful. “Not real good business to miss appointments with customers.”
“Maybe he forgot.” Skye kept her tone light. “But I do need to talk to him to reschedule.”
“You going to your ma’s for supper tonight?” Charlie was in no hurry to forward the call.
“Probably not.” Skye resigned herself to a few minutes of chitchat. “You?”
“Sure.” Charlie chuckled. “I never miss one of May’s Sunday dinners if I can help it.”
“They are good,” Skye agreed.
“So you want to talk to that book fellow?”
“Yeah. I’d really like to get rid of these old books.” Skye crossed her fingers. “And I’m in sort of a hurry.”
“Okay. I’ll ring his room now. Take care, honey.”
“Thanks, Uncle Charlie.” Phew. She’d made it past the first hurdle.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice answered on the first ring.
Skye frowned. “May I speak to Orlando Erwin, please? Skye Denison calling.” Had Charlie put her through to the wrong cottage?
“Hello, Skye. He’s not here right now. This is Risé.”
Oh. My. God! Skye stared at her cell as if it had turned into a rattlesnake. If Risé was on the phone, that meant that . . . Oh, no—she’d made the same mistake yesterday, but this time she’d assumed that the tiny brunette was the store owner when it was really Kayla.
“Skye, are you there?” Risé’s tone was brusque. “Why did you want to talk to Orlando? I’m sorry if he missed an appointment or something, but this isn’t a good time. Try him later on at the store.”
“Uh, wait. Don’t hang up.” Skye wasn’t sure what to say, and she knew she had to tell Wally immediately that Risé was not the woman who had been crushed. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s an emergency at Tales and Treats. You need to come down here right away.”
“What—”
Skye cut her off. “I’ll explain when you get here.”
“But—”
Flipping the phone closed, Skye cut off Risé again and rushed inside the shop. She heard, “One.” The men had threaded moving straps under and around the cabinet. “Two.” Wally held one end and Anthony held the other. “Three.”
Skye waited to speak while Wally and Anthony heaved the cabinet to an upright position and Simon and Xavier steadied it against the wall.
Once she was sure the cabinet was secure, Skye pointed to the body. “That’s not Risé Vaughn.”
“Then who is it?” Simon asked.
“It’s Kayla!” a voice cried from the doorway. “It’s my Kayla!
CHAPTER 8
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde
Chase Wren wailed, sounding like a wounded wildebeest, then charged toward Kayla’s body, tears running down his chiseled cheeks.
“Stop.” Simon stepped into his path. “I’m sorry to tell you she’s dead.” He grabbed the distraught young man by his shoulders and attempted to turn him around. “You have to leave immediately.”
Chase shook him off like a bull with a rodeo rider, and when Simon hit the floor, Anthony stepped in front of Chase. The hulking ex–baseball player stumbled but quickly regained his footing.
“Whoa there, son.” Wally got behind Chase, grabbed both his arms, and twisted them up his back. “Let’s all calm down. We can talk outside.”
Chase continued to lunge toward Kayla’s body, struggling to break Wally’s hold. Wally tightened his grip, then shot Skye a meaningful look.
She immediately said in her most soothing tone, “Come on, Chase. I know it’s awful to see Kayla like that, but there’s nothing you can do for her, and she wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”
Chase went rigid when Skye spoke Kayla’s name. Then he slumped and started to sob. “What am I going to do without her? She was my whole world.”
“I know.” Skye moved closer and patted the young man’s biceps. “Let them finish in here while we go sit outside and talk about it.”
“Okay, Ms. Denison.” He hiccuped. “I can’t stand seeing her like that.”
“That’s right.” Skye took his hand and led him toward the door. “Try to forget, and remember her the way she was the last time you two were together.”
“She was so beautiful. All the guys were jealous of me.” Chase’s blue eyes glazed over in pain. “I was so proud of her.”
Wally had followed them to the exit, and Skye jerked her chin up, signifying that she had everything under control, as she seated the young man at one of the outdoor tables. Wally sketched a question mark in the air, indicating she should interview Chase, then went back inside.
Skye nodded and turned h
er attention back to the sobbing young man. He gulped a couple of times, took out a large hanky, and blew his nose. She waited, content to let him establish the pace of their conversation.
Finally, he said, “Kayla’s the only girl I ever loved. We were going to get married next month.”
“I’m so sorry.” Skye leaned forward. “When did you two start dating?”
“Our freshman year in high school.” He gazed over Skye’s head.
“That’s a long time to be together.” Skye said in a comforting voice. “I’m sure it’s a shock.”
“I just can’t believe it.” Chase buried his face in his hands.
Skye searched her mind. What would Wally want her to ask Kayla’s boyfriend? “What made you come here this morning?”
“I was worried about her.” Chase rubbed his eyes with his fists. “She never showed up at my place last night.”
“Were you expecting her?” Skye asked, wondering why it had taken him so long to check the store for her.
“Not exactly.” Chase shook his head. “She spends most nights with me, but she technically still lives with her parents.”
Skye nodded, remembering Kayla’s explanation of her living arrangements. “So you called her folks this morning and found out she wasn’t there either?”
“Actually,” Chase admitted, “I called them around midnight, after I tried her cell a few times and it went straight into voice mail.”
“And when she wasn’t there . . . ?” Skye trailed off, confused. Why hadn’t Chase come to Tales and Treats at that point?
“The thing is”—Chase frowned—“sometimes she spends the night with Xenia. She has all the latest film-making gadgets, and I knew that Kayla had a big project she was working on for school, so I thought she might have crashed at Xenia’s.”
Skye nodded again. That, too, fit in with what Kayla had said. “Did you call there?”
“I tried, but the machine picked up, and Xenia didn’t answer her cell.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Not really.” Chase’s neck turned red. “Xenia doesn’t like me.”
Skye tucked that information away and was considering what else Wally would want to know, when a silver Toyota Prius zoomed up and parked behind Chase’s SUV. It was beginning to look like a parade lineup with all the cars double-parked bumper to bumper.
Risé threw open the driver’s door and exploded out of the car. She was wearing a short pink T-shirt with the words PARDON ME WHILE I SLIP INTO A GOOD BOOK emblazoned across her chest, and she tugged at it as she tore toward Skye and Chase.
She skidded to a stop inches from Skye’s chair and demanded, “Okay, I’m here. What’s the big emergency?” Her tone was stiff, but her expression was worried.
Before Skye could answer, Chase howled and lunged at Risé, shouting, “This is all your fault.”
It took both Wally and Skye to subdue Chase, but he finally calmed down enough to be sent to the police station with Anthony. Wally had decided they would continue questioning the young man after they were finished at the scene. Soon afterward, Xavier and Simon left with the body, and now Skye, Wally, and Risé were staring at the shards of glass and scattered books on the shop floor.
“That poor, poor girl.” Risé’s skin was ashen, and she blinked back tears. “I should never have left her alone yesterday to close up.”
“What time did you leave here?” Wally asked.
“We close at eight on Fridays and Saturdays,” Risé answered mechanically. “I left about fifteen minutes later. Kayla wanted to finish vacuuming, so I told her to lock the door when she was finished. I took Beelzebub and Cherub and headed for the motor court.”
“Her pet chinchillas,” Skye explained when she noticed Wally’s puzzled expression.
“Oh.” Wally made a note on the pad he took from his breast pocket. “Did you and your husband leave here together last night?”
“No.” Risé’s mouth twisted. “He couldn’t wait for me to count the cash drawer. He had a meeting to attend over in Laurel and took off right behind our last customer.”
“Where is he now?” Wally looked up from his notepad.
“I have no idea.” Risé’s tone was tart. “He never made it back to the cottage.”
“Is that usual for him?” Wally raised a brow.
“No, not anymore. It used to be, a long time ago, but he’s been sober for nearly fifteen years. He’s never slipped and taken a drink in all that time.”
“But he used to get falling-down drunk?” Wally asked.
“He preferred to call it becoming accidently horizontal.” Risé sighed. “But yes.”
“Was he going to Laurel for an AA meeting?” Skye asked quietly.
“Yes.” Risé nodded. “He attends meetings a couple times a week, and they have one especially for vets over there.”
“And when he failed to return to the motor court, you didn’t look for him or try his cell phone or call someone to find him?” Wally’s tone was skeptical.
“He refuses to carry a cell. And I didn’t know where to go or who to call.” Risé shrugged. “Everything in AA is confidential, and since we only recently moved here, he hasn’t found a sponsor in the new group yet.” She whispered half to herself, “I should have known the recent stress about my previous job and then opening up a business might push him over the edge.”
“I’m sure it’s not your fault,” Skye said.
“Excuse me a minute.” Wally pulled out his phone and dialed. “Silvia, get ahold of the Laurel police and the county guys, and ask them to be on the lookout for Orlando Erwin. Pull his description from his driver’s license.” He listened a minute, then turned to Risé. “What was he wearing and driving?”
“He had on jeans, a navy T-shirt, and a leather jacket,” Risé reported. “And he was on his motorcycle. A ’sixty-eight Harley.”
Wally relayed the information, hung up, and said, “Now, Ms. Vaughn, without touching anything, do you see any sign of a burglary?”
“Not at first glance.” Risé looked around. “Can I go into the other rooms?”
“Yes, but keep your hands in your pockets.”
After she made the rounds, the store owner shook her head. “It seems as if everything is just like I left it. I took the cash.” Risé paused, then said thoughtfully, “The only things that anyone could get some real money for are the first editions and rare books.” She pointed to the smashed cabinet that Wally and Anthony had leaned against the wall. “And they were in there.”
“Could that cupboard have fallen on its own?” Wally asked. “Maybe if it were bumped?”
“I doubt it.” Risé’s voice was bitter. “I told Orlando that it wasn’t fastened to the wall securely enough because I was worried about an earthquake. But otherwise, it’s so heavy, someone would have had to shove it over on purpose.”
Skye touched her arm. “Do you have an inventory of the valuable books?”
“On my laptop.” Risé gestured with her chin. “It’s in my car.”
Skye and Wally waited while Risé fetched her computer, booted it up, and compared the list to the volumes scattered on the floor. Wally had supplied her with a pair of rubber gloves but cautioned her not to move anything from where it lay.
Finally, Risé straightened and said, “At least seven books are missing.”
“Are those missing the ones that are worth the most?” Skye asked.
“Not all of them.” Risé tapped the laptop’s screen. “But this one, a nineteen twenty-two first edition of The Velveteen Rabbit, is worth eight thousand dollars.”
Wally had been inspecting the place on the wall where the cabinet had been fastened, but when he heard Risé’s claim, he said, “Okay. Everyone out. I’m requesting the county crime scene techs.”
Skye, Wally, and Risé trooped outside. While Wally made his call, the women sat at an outdoor table. Skye thought how lucky they were that the weather was still mild. Early-September temperatures in Illinois could range fr
om eighty degrees during the day to freezing at night.
A few minutes later, Wally joined them. “It’ll take the techs forty-five minutes to an hour to get here.” He turned to Skye. “Sugar, if you want to take off, that’s fine.”
Skye nodded and started to rise, but before she got to her feet, Risé grabbed her hand. “I’d appreciate it if you stayed.” Her cheeks reddened. “But I understand if you can’t.”
“Of course I’ll stay if you want me to.” Skye looked at her watch; it was only a little past twelve thirty. “No problem.”
“Thank you.” Risé slumped back in her chair. “I’m not usually this needy.”
They were sitting silently when Skye’s stomach growled. “Hey, I just had an idea.” She realized the only thing she’d had to eat all day was a cup of gas station coffee. Now she sort of wished she’d taken Simon up on his offer of breakfast. “How about I go get takeout from McDonald’s? I’m starving, and I bet the chief is, too. How about you, Risé? Could you do with some lunch?”
“Well.” Risé hesitated. “I did skip breakfast, hoping Orlando would show up.”
“What would you like?”
“I try to eat vegetarian, but I think considering the past twenty-four hours, today I’ll call a Big Mac a vegetable.” Risé smiled for the first time. “What the hell, get me fries and a chocolate shake while you’re at it.”
“Wally?” Skye looked at him.
“Sounds good.” He took out his wallet and handed her a twenty. “Chow’s on me.”
When Skye arrived back from her food run, Wally had cordoned off the block. She rolled down her car window and said to Anthony, who was watching the south entrance, “What’s up?” It was unusual to barricade a whole section of street for anything less than a hostage situation or a shoot-out.
“When I got back from the station, the chief told me to set up the barricades. He wants to keep out any onlookers.” Anthony was a nice-looking young man with sandy brown hair. He worked part-time for the PD and part-time for his father, who owned an appliance repair business. “The bookstore is scheduled to open any minute.”
“What are you supposed to tell people who show up?” Skye was trying to figure out what story would cause the least amount of harm to Tales and Treats’ reputation.
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