Murder of a Bookstore Babe srm-13

by Denise Swanson

  Skye sat in Caroline’s office. It was nearly eleven, and the situation was finally resolved. Arnold had been reassured, his teacher had been briefed, and he had returned to the classroom.

  Now Skye was filling in the principal. “I really miss our last PE teacher. She was so great with the kids. I’ve explained to Todd on numerous occasions that teasing children about their appearance and lack of athletic prowess is a form of abuse. He insists that it toughens them up for real life.”

  “And you disagree?” Caroline spoke thoughtfully from her seat behind the desk.

  “Yes.” Skye leaned forward, intent on convincing the principal. “Most people can get past a bad experience, but they never get over it. Humiliation like this follows them the rest of their lives.”

  “Judging from today’s incident, not to mention my thirty-eight years in education as both a teacher and a principal, I’d say you’re correct.” Caroline’s expression was hard to read. “Now, the question is, what are we going to do about it?”

  “Do you really want my suggestion?” Skye asked, making sure the principal wasn’t using the royal we. She’d gotten stung too many times while trying to be helpful not to be cautious.

  “Yes.” Caroline’s expression was anything but happy. “I’m distressed to admit that I’m not sure how to deal with Mr. Grind. This is his second year with us, and my usual methods don’t seem to be working.”

  “I’m willing to consult closely with him. But he needs to know that I’m doing so under orders from you. And if by the end of the year we don’t see any improvement, since he’s not tenured . . .” Skye hated what she was about to say, but her job was to be the children’s advocate, not the teachers’. “I would have to recommend that his contract not be renewed and he not be given a reference.”

  “I agree.” Caroline sighed. “He has such promise. We don’t have enough young men wanting to work at the elementary level, especially in PE. I hope you can help him see the error of his ways.”

  “Or at least get him to do what he’s told.” Skye was pragmatic.

  Caroline nodded, indicating their discussion was over. As Skye walked out of the principal’s office, she wondered what in the world she could do to convince Todd Grind her philosophy was the correct one.

  Skye headed down the hall, mentally reshuffling her schedule. She had intended to test a fifth grader that morning but needed at least a two-hour block of uninterrupted time for that. And since she was due at the junior high at twelve thirty, it was too late to start now. She couldn’t do any observations, because she hadn’t made appointments with the teachers. That left report writing. There was never any shortage of paperwork, and she tended to do it in dribs and drabs, whenever she had a spare moment.

  Preoccupied, she didn’t register that her usually locked office door was open, and as she stepped inside, she gave a tiny yelp. Sitting on one of the two metal folding chairs was Simon. As always, he was dressed impeccably, in an elegant dark suit.

  He had spread the desk with a white linen tablecloth and placed a vase containing yellow roses in the center. Arranged around the bouquet were plates of fruit, cheese, French bread, and two flutes of sparkling grape juice. At least she hoped it was sparkling grape juice, because alcohol on school grounds was cause for immediate dismissal.

  Skye sniffed. Her office had started life as a storage room for the cafeteria, and a faint odor of sour milk usually hung in the air, but today there was a pleasant floral scent. Was it the roses, or had Simon brought air freshener?

  Simon had stood up when she entered, and a grin lit his handsome face. “Surprise!”

  “What are you doing here?” Skye forced herself to frown even as her stomach growled at the sight of the food. “I told you to stop it.”

  “And I told you I wouldn’t. Haven’t I convinced you of that yet?” He indicated the other chair. “Sit down. What’s the harm of a little brunch? It’s not as if I’m going to ravish you in the middle of the grade school. Although you do look good enough to eat.”

  Skye ignored his compliment. He was obviously exaggerating. She was wearing a pair of old black slacks and a pink twin set that had seen better days, and she hadn’t even bothered to straighten her hair, just scraped it back with a headband.

  Simon’s tall frame took up most of the small space, but she managed to edge past without brushing against him. She dragged the other folding chair back behind the desk and asked, “How did you get in here?” She was sure she’d locked the door. She always did because of confidentiality issues.

  “Fern gave me the master key.”

  “Why would she do that?” Skye glared at him. “She could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “I helped her out when her mom died.” Simon nudged a plate of fruit toward her. “Come on. Eat something. It’s no big deal, and I know you won’t give Fern a hard time for trying to further true love.”

  “You’re right,” Skye acknowledged. “I won’t tell on her, but you’ve got to stop this.”

  “I can’t.” Simon was suddenly serious. “Look, when that psycho almost killed you last October, I realized that I didn’t appreciate you when we were dating. That I tried to change you, when you were perfect the way you were. That the reason you’re the one for me is because of who you are, not who I want to make you into.”

  “Simon.” Skye swallowed the lump in her throat. “Don’t.” It was hard to hear the genuine love in his voice.

  “I’m not going to say that I can’t live without you, but the truth is, there is only one person who completes me, and that’s you. I know for certain that my life would be infinitely richer with you by my side.” Simon’s expression was bleak. “It’s like I woke up one day and finally saw that with you the world is a wonderful place full of color and adventure, and without you, it’s like a black-and-white movie.”

  Skye sat stunned for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry. Maybe if you had realized all of this sooner, but . . .” She shook her head. The pain in his voice tore at her. “I can’t do this for a lot of reasons. You have to leave.”

  “I will, but I’m not giving up.” He smiled sadly. “And before I go, I need to tell you about Xavier.” Simon’s voice was grave. “Frannie told me last night that he’s been gone a lot lately. Either he won’t say where he’s going, or he lies to her about where he is.”

  “Shit!” Skye sank into her chair. Xavier loved his daughter and would sacrifice anything for her. If he was lying to Frannie, they had a major problem.

  “My thoughts exactly.” Simon sat down, too, as if he were suddenly exhausted. “It has to have something to do with the bookstore and his investment.”

  “Have you asked him about it?” Skye absentmindedly picked up a grape and popped it into her mouth.

  “Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first.” Simon sounded unsure.

  “I don’t know what to advise you. He’s a tough person to figure out.” Skye nibbled a piece of cheese. “Do you think he’d tell you the truth?”

  “A month ago I would have said yes.” Simon’s shoulders slumped. “Now I doubt it.”

  “Then if you really want to know what’s going on, you’ll have to follow him.”

  To Skye’s surprise, Simon didn’t immediately dismiss her suggestion. Instead he pulled out a small leather-bound pad of paper and started taking notes. While they discussed where Xavier might be disappearing to, what he might be doing, and how Simon could tail him, between them they polished off all the food.

  Finally, Skye rose from her chair. “Now you really need to leave. I have to be at the junior high in fifteen minutes.”

  Once he was standing, she thrust the vase of roses in his hands. “And I can’t accept these.”

  His smile was pained. “You aren’t making this ‘winning you back’ thing easy.”

  “Because it’s too late.” She was silent as he turned to go, then said, “Wait.”

  His hopeful expression nearly broke her heart, but she steeled her emotions, “Do you
know when the ME is releasing Kayla’s body?”

  “Yes.” Simon sighed, clearly unhappy with her response. “I picked it up this morning. The wake is tomorrow, and the funeral is Saturday.”

  “Was there anything new in his report?”

  “He found bits of a hard blue plastic material in her hair.”

  “Hmm.” What was made of blue plastic? Suddenly Skye felt warm breath on her face, and her eyes popped open. Simon was leaning forward, their noses nearly touching and his hazel eyes blazing into hers. “I’m not giving up.”

  “And I’m not changing my mind.”

  He tilted her chin up with his finger. “I hear annulments take a long, long time.”

  For once, Skye was able to leave work on time, which meant she could stop by her brother’s hair salon before going to question Hugo. Vince still hadn’t called or answered his phone.

  As Skye turned into the Great Expectations parking lot, she saw Vince’s Jeep in its usual spot, but when she tried to open the shop’s front door, she noticed that the CLOSED sign was in the window. Alarm fluttered in Skye’s chest. It was only a little past four in the afternoon. Vince never quit work until well after six on a weekday. And where could he have gone without his car? What could have happened?

  Skye’s initial thought was to call her mother. Nope, bad idea. First she’d check his apartment. It took her only a few minutes to drive to the complex, and when he didn’t answer the door she tried her key. It didn’t work.

  She couldn’t imagine someone as laid-back as her brother going to the trouble of changing the lock on his apartment door. Unless it had been Loretta’s doing. Still, why hadn’t Vince given her the new key?

  As Skye wrote a note, underscoring the urgent need for Vince to get in touch with her, she had a thought. Did he and Loretta think she was as meddlesome as May? Was that the explanation for the changed lock and the unreturned calls? The idea was so appalling, she almost forgot her real worry. Had something happened to Vince that was preventing him from calling her back?

  It seemed wrong, but Skye could think of no other option. She’d have to break down and call Loretta. She hated coming off as a nosy sister, but Vince and Loretta had both asked her to keep May from finding out about their engagement, and she couldn’t do that if they remained incommunicado.

  CHAPTER 19

  Sense and Sensibility

  When Loretta didn’t answer at any of her numbers, Skye decided that if she hadn’t heard from Vince by tomorrow, she could call Loretta’s law office and talk to her secretary. A live human versus a machine had to have some answers. And for now, that was the best plan she had.

  Checking the time, Skye realized she had to get over to Hugo’s before he left for the day. She had finally come up with a reason to talk to him. Her father was turning sixty-five in January, so she would claim to be having a huge surprise party for Jed. She was checking with everyone to be sure they were available on the date.

  She might even ask for Hugo’s help. Skye smiled. Everyone liked her dad, and Hugo owed him big-time for helping out when his regular mechanic came across a car he couldn’t fix. Hugo should be happy to talk to Skye about a celebration in her father’s honor.

  Hugo’s used-car lot was only a couple of miles from Vince’s apartment, but Skye’s luck was running true to form, and his manager said her cousin had already left for the day. Great! Who expected a used-car salesman to keep banker’s hours?

  As Skye pulled into her driveway, she checked her watch. It was only a few minutes past five thirty; for once she wouldn’t have to rush. She had time to fix a decent meal, freshen up, and still get to the bookstore in plenty of time to lead the teen discussion group.

  Skye had just begun heating a skillet to brown a salmon filet when the phone rang. She turned the flame down and checked caller ID, congratulating herself on having finally gotten it installed. It had been worth the monthly cost ten times over these past few days, when she had been able to avoid her mother’s calls.

  Seeing the number of Wally’s private line at the PD, Skye smiled and scooped up the receiver, then froze when May’s voice blasted from the earpiece. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you called me back? And what’s going on with your brother?”

  Since Skye didn’t have acceptable answers for any of those questions, the conversation with her mother was long and painful.

  Skye had long since lost her appetite and put the fish back in the refrigerator when she broke under her mother’s relentless grilling. “I didn’t call you, Mom, because I have nothing to tell you. I haven’t been able to reach Vince. He hasn’t answered his phones, and he’s not at the salon or his apartment.”

  There was dead silence; then Hurricane May broke loose. Looking back later on her mother’s reaction, Skye realized she should have cut out her tongue as soon as she heard May’s voice on the phone rather than talk to her. Instead, she had ended up promising that she would let her mom know the minute she located Vince.

  Because of May’s intense interrogation, Skye arrived at Tales and Treats less than fifteen minutes before the book club was scheduled to begin. Entering the store, she noted that all signs of the break-in were gone. The rare-book cabinet was back in position, its glass front replaced and the valuable tomes restored to its shelves.

  Even the spot where Kayla had lain was undetectable. The polyurethane finish on the wood-laminate flooring had prevented the blood from soaking through and thus had been easily wiped clean. It somehow saddened Skye to think that the young girl’s death had left no mark.

  Still, she couldn’t help but smile as she spotted Risé behind the counter. The store owner was busy checking out a huge stack of books for a woman who was chattering enthusiastically about how much she loved the selection of mysteries and romances.

  Today, Risé wore a colorful T-shirt emblazoned with the words ONE GOOD BOOK DESERVES ANOTHER. Skye wondered how many different T-shirts with witty book sayings Risé owned.

  Risé saw Skye and pointed to the literature alcove, mouthing, “They’re in there.”

  Skye found Trixie and two girls arranging folding chairs into a semicircle. The desk, generally used to give the impression of a college professor’s office, was shoved against a wall, and a pitcher of lemonade, a stack of paper cups, and a tray of fancy cookies were spread across the top.

  Trixie walked over to Skye and whispered, “Any news on the murder?”

  “Not since I talked to you at school.” Skye drew Trixie farther out of earshot of the two preteens. “I still haven’t questioned Hugo, but everyone else we’re aware of who was angry at Risé has an alibi.”

  Skye hadn’t meant to tell her friend about her suspicion that the store owner was the killer’s real target, but Trixie had independently come to the same conclusion, and Skye had had to admit she was looking into that possibility.

  “Shoot!” Trixie stamped her foot. “On one hand I’m glad that none of them is guilty of such a horrible crime, but now what?”

  “Exactly.” Skye made sure no one was listening, then said, “If Hugo is in the clear, which I certainly hope, then the case is pretty much at a dead end. Officer Martinez is doing a background check on Risé and Kayla, but she hasn’t found anything on either of them so far, and Wally said that no one involved in the case has any warrants in the system. All we can hope for is that the police get a lead from something the crime scene techs come up with.”

  Trixie’s expression of frustration matched Skye’s, but a steady stream of girls had started to arrive, and they were forced to turn their attention to the matter at hand. Both women knew that a roomful of unsupervised teenagers was never a good thing.

  While the attendees helped themselves to refreshments and settled into their seats, Skye said to Trixie, “I wonder why Risé put us in here. I hope she doesn’t expect our discussion to be literary.”

  “Nah.” Trixie grinned. “She told me this area has the least amount of customer traffic, so we’ll be less likely to be interrupt
ed.”

  Although Skye had a minor in English, she was relieved that she wasn’t supposed to be conducting the club like a class. She didn’t think the kids would enjoy treating their book as if it were Tolstoy.

  Skye recognized most of the girls and was surprised by the age range. Shawna Miles and Cassie Wren, the two who had been helping Trixie set up when Skye arrived, were only eleven or twelve, while some of the others were at least eighteen.

  As soon as Skye sat down, Bitsy Kessler and Ashley Yates immediately claimed the two chairs on either side of her. Skye knew Bitsy from the high school newspaper, and she had rescued Ashley when the girl had tumbled into an abandoned basement, broken her leg in the fall, and been trapped there.

  Last year Bitsy and Ashley had been enemies; this year they appeared to be friends. Maybe they were fren-emies. Skye had heard that term recently but wasn’t precisely sure what it meant.

  The two younger girls flanked Trixie. They, too, might fall under the frenemy label, as they were rivals in the local dance troupe.

  Other teens occupied the remaining seats, and once everyone was comfortable, Skye counted heads. Fifteen—not bad for the first meeting. If the girls enjoyed themselves tonight, they might bring their friends to the next session.

  Trixie held up a copy of If I Have a Wicked Stepmother, Where’s My Prince? and asked, “So, what did you all think of this book?”

  The kids were silent. Their expressions ranged from eagerness to apprehension. Trixie and Skye had come up with a few questions to use to initiate the discussion, and clearly they were needed to get the girls started, but Skye hoped that once they got going, they could ditch the formalities and just talk.

  Skye leaned forward. “Maybe the first thing we should ask is, did you like the book?”

  All the girls nodded, some saying they enjoyed the humor, others stating they thought the romance and excitement were the best things about the novel. A few commented that it was an easy read and they were hooked from the beginning.