Skye looked at her watch. It was three fifty-seven, and Wally was expecting her at four. She’d better let him know she had arrived.
“Can you check on how much longer Bunny will be?” Spike asked.
“Sure, I can do that.” Skye stood, patted Spike on the shoulder, then walked toward the inner door. “Let me go see what’s happening.”
Using her key to enter the restricted area of the PD, Skye stepped into the narrow hallway. To her immediate right was the dispatcher’s office, and she stuck her head around the open doorway. She had thought it odd that her mother hadn’t greeted her at the counter when she walked into the lobby, but now she saw why. May held two phones to her ears, and she was talking on both.
Skye waved to her mother, who raised her eyebrows questioningly and pointed to her daughter’s cheek.
Mouthing the words “cleaning accident,” Skye crossed her fingers. Housework was the one activity her mother would think justified sustaining an injury.
May raised her chin in acknowledgment, then refocused on her dual conversations. The scowl on her face made Skye wonder if May was dealing with the press. Skye didn’t think the murder of a cat show judge would bring out the media, but if it was a slow news day, anything was possible.
When Skye reached the coffee/interrogation room, she knocked on the partially open door and Wally motioned her inside. Bunny, engaged in a battle to the death with the soda machine, ignored her.
Silently, Skye took a seat next to Wally at the table, and they both stared wordlessly at the redhead, who was feverishly pushing buttons and cursing. Each time a can didn’t appear in the dispenser, Bunny stabbed the buttons harder and swore louder.
Today she was wearing a black and gold satin halter dress with a smocked bodice and a mid-thigh-length handkerchief hem. Suddenly Bunny stamped her gold four-inch-high stilettos, and Skye flinched as she heard something snap. She hoped it was the heel and not the redhead’s ankle.
Finally, Bunny wrestled a can of Jolt from the recalcitrant machine and joined Skye and Wally. She slumped into a chair and immediately popped the top, breaking one of her fuchsia-tipped nails. She swore, bit off the remainder of the nail, then shrugged and took a long gulp of the highly caffeinated soda. After a couple more hits of caffeine, she leaned back and closed her eyes.
Wally waited a beat, then said, “Are you ready to continue now?”
“I’ve told you everything I know,” Bunny whined. “I have a splitting headache and I feel like barfing. Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“Bunny, this attitude of yours is going to get you into trouble,” Wally warned.
“I don’t have a bad attitude.” Bunny fluffed her hair. “I just have a personality you can’t handle.”
“At your age you should know better than to talk back to the police.”
“Hey, buddy! Watch it.” Bunny glared. “I’m not a day over fabulous.”
“Right.” Wally gritted his teeth. “I have only a couple more questions. Concentrate,” he ordered. “Is there any way into the bowling alley besides the front doors?”
“Let’s see.” Bunny rummaged through the contents of her purse until she found a nail file. “There’s the door in the back where the deliveries come in and the window exit from the basement.” She paused, then nodded. “And the outside door to my apartment.”
“So someone could have gotten in any one of those ways?” Wally asked.
“No.” Bunny shook her head, then winced in pain. “Those first two are wired, so if they’re opened when the alarm is set, a buzzer goes off. I keep the inside door to my apartment locked at all times, and since I already told you the outer door to my apartment is wired, that entrance is doubly protected.”
“How about the alley’s front entrance?” Wally looked up from his notebook.
“It’s on a different security system that’s right next to the door.”
“And during the party, that first system was activated?” Wally asked. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Bunny finished repairing her manicure and put away the file. “I have a checklist that I follow before I open the bowling alley, and making sure the alarm is set on the other entrances is item number one.”
“Okay.” Wally rubbed the back of his neck. “Tell me one more time—who, besides the paying customers, was present at the bowler disco party?”
“The three judges, the four vendors, the deejay, the bouncer, the bartender, and three waitresses.” Bunny sighed and rubbed her temples.
“That’s all?” Wally persisted. “You’re not forgetting anyone.”
“Yes, that’s all.” Bunny rested her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. “Unless the bouncer let in someone that I didn’t notice.”
“We interviewed him and he says no one other than the people on the list you gave him got in.” Wally drummed his fingers on the table. “Did you set the front entrance alarm once the cleaning crew left?”
“Yes,” Bunny snapped, then hesitated. “Shit! Sonny Boy insisted that I change the code when we fired a waitress last week, and I couldn’t remember it.” She slumped. “I was too tired to run all the way upstairs to get it. And no, it’s not my age, it’s the damn mileage.”
“So someone inside could have used that door to leave, which is why it was unlocked even though you thought you locked it.” Wally flipped his notebook shut.
“I guess.” Bunny rolled the cold soda can across her forehead. “Can I go now?”
“I have a question,” Skye said, noting how bloodshot Bunny’s eyes were.
“What?” The redhead’s voice was a mixture of querulousness and caution.
“How about the guy that you slipped out of the bar with after the speed-dating event?” Considering how Bunny normally dressed it was hard to tell, but the wrinkles in her outfit suggested that she might still be wearing the same clothes from last night’s date. Especially since Spike had said she and her mother arrived at Bunny’s apartment at the same time that afternoon. Which meant the headache was probably really a hangover. “Was he at the party?”
“What guy?” Bunny squealed, jerking upright. “I told you the man you saw just wanted me to show him the bathroom.”
“I don’t believe you.” Skye met the redhead’s gaze straight on. “I saw him kiss you.”
“You’re mistaken.” Bunny looked away. “He was just one of the men from the cat show who didn’t participate in the speed dating.”
“Then why didn’t he know where the bathroom was?” Skye asked. “Didn’t he need it during the day?”
“Do I look like I monitor people’s toilet habits?” Bunny demanded.
“Fine.” Skye gritted her teeth. “Then who were you with last night?”
“That’s none of your business. Since you’ve chosen not to be my daughter-in-law, I suggest you butt out.” Bunny rose from her chair and stormed out of the room.
“Well, that sure wasn’t like the Bunny we’ve all come to know and love,” Wally commented.
“No, it wasn’t.” Skye bit her lip. “Bunny usually tries to flirt her way out of trouble.”
“Instead she got mad.”
“I can’t put my finger on exactly why, but she seemed more frightened than angry to me.” Skye wrinkled her brow. “I’ve never seen Bunny scared before.”
CHAPTER 10
Morals of an Alley Cat and Scruples of a Snake
After advising May that he was leaving, and instructing her to call him on his cell with anything concerning the murder, Wally hustled Skye out of the police station and into his squad car.
“Where are we going?” Skye asked as she fastened her seat belt.
“To visit Lola Martinez.” Wally pressed a button clipped to the sun visor and the PD’s metal garage door rolled up. “Considering she’s Officer Martinez’s cousin, I thought it best that you and I question her.”
“That makes sense.” Skye turned to face Wally. “How did Quirk react to Zelda admitting she had lied to him about b
eing related to Lola?”
“Let’s just say it’s a good thing the Scumble River Police Department doesn’t have KP duty, or Martinez would be peeling a lot of potatoes.”
Skye grinned. “I hope he doesn’t give her too hard a time.”
“Nah.” Wally eased the robin’s-egg blue Caprice out of the building and made a left onto Kinsman Street. “I talked to him, and we agree it was a rookie mistake. But it was a good thing she fessed up when she did, or she could have really messed up the investigation.”
“Which would have been a lot harder for either of you to forgive.”
“Exactly.” Wally lowered the volume on the police radio to a less earsplitting level. “As long as I’m aware of her relationship with one of the suspects, I can make sure she isn’t involved in any aspect of the case where she could be accused of bias.”
“Good. By the way, any news on Elijah?” Skye tried to keep her voice casual. “Has anyone come forward with any info about his location?”
“Unfortunately not.” Wally stopped at the light on the corner of Maryland and Basin streets. It was the only traffic signal in town and it always seemed to be red. “There’s been nothing from the APB and no one has reported seeing his car anywhere.”
“Did you find out anything when you interviewed his sister?”
“Her description of the problems caused by Jacobsen’s head injury jibed with what you told me.” Wally tapped his fingers against his thigh. “And she says she has no idea where he might be.”
“How about the search of Elijah’s house?” Skye had wondered what they would look for. Since the murder weapon was a cat toy, it wasn’t as if there would be a gun or knife they could match to the wound. Maybe they were hoping for a map with a wilderness location circled in red or a journal with his written confession.
“Except for the feline paraphernalia and his music collection, the guy lives like a monk.” Wally twitched his shoulders. “His room contained a single bed, a chest of drawers, an elaborate stereo system, and about a million records, tapes, and CDs.”
“I guess Elijah thought what Albert Schweitzer said was true. Music and cats are the only two real means of refuge from the miseries of life,” Skye commented absently, then paused. Something was niggling at the back of her mind. She concentrated until she dredged it up. “What about his cell?” She remembered seeing Elijah preoccupied with the phone during the cat show.
“He must have taken it.” The light turned green and Wally stepped on the gas. “I’ve asked the county crime techs to try to track the phone’s signal.”
“Can they do that?”
“Only if he turns it on.” Wally frowned. “So far, he’s been too smart to use it.”
“Maybe the battery’s dead.” Skye twisted a curl around her finger. “Elijah doesn’t seem to have the ability to think far enough ahead to figure out that the police might use his phone signal to find him.”
Wally shot her a worried glance. “I know you like him, or feel sorry for him or something, but he’s probably guilty, so try not to be too disillusioned when we find him and he admits he did it.”
“I’m not denying there’s a lot of circumstantial evidence stacked up against him.” Skye gnawed at her thumbnail. “It’s just that my gut says he didn’t do it, and my instincts are usually pretty good.”
“As long as they don’t blind you to the facts, that’s fine.”
They rode in silence until Skye asked, “Did Frannie and Justin have anything to add to what I told you?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I figured. I was pretty sure I’d gotten the whole story from them,” Skye said, then asked, “Were they still fighting?”
“Considering they refused to be in the same room together, I’d have to say yes.” Wally looked at her. “Why, are you planning an intervention?”
“No. It’s a shame, because they seem like a good pair, but I’m not getting involved.” Skye pursed her lips. “They need to work this one out on their own.” She was silent, lost in her thoughts, until another question occurred to her. “Where does Lola live?”
“Just outside Clay Center’s city limits. And the photographer lives a few minutes from her, so we’ll see him once we finish with her.”
“I take it neither Lola nor Kyle has an alibi,” Skye deduced.
“No, they don’t.” Wally slowed the cruiser as he approached a rough railroad crossing. “They both claim that they parted from their speed dates right after the bowler disco party and went home alone.”
“Since the party ended at midnight, and the ME said that Alexis was killed between eleven thirty and twelve thirty, that leaves both Kyle and Lola a half an hour to have killed Alexis.” Skye gazed down at I-55 as they drove across the overpass, and shook her head at the snarled traffic. Even this far south of Chicago, a steady stream of vehicles clogged the highway. “What was Kyle’s excuse for missing his appointment with me?”
“His alarm didn’t go off.” Wally turned left onto County Line Road. “But since he was sleeping alone, there’s no way to prove it.”
“Who else doesn’t have an alibi?” Skye watched the fields go by on either side of the squad car. At this time of year, before the ground was plowed and planted, the dark weed-covered land always depressed her.
“Sandy and Sonia Sechrest say they were together, but sisters often lie for each other.” Wally pulled into a long driveway that led to an old farmhouse. “Faith Irving claims she was at her house, but since she was by herself there’s no way to prove it.”
“How about Ivan Quigley?”
“He has a live-in housekeeper,” Wally answered, then added, “At first she said she didn’t know what time Quigley got home, but later she conveniently remembered that it was around eleven.”
“Hmm. So his alibi might not stand up,” she mused, rubbing her temples. “How about the others, the ones not on my list?”
“It looks as if we might have gotten a break with them.” Wally parked, got out of the car, and came around to Skye’s side to open her door. “During the roller disco, the pairs stuck together, and they all alibi each other up until midnight. The longest anyone was alone was a five-minute bathroom break. Then after Bunny shut down that party, a group of thirty-six of them went over to the Brown Bag to continue the festivities. They closed the place at two a.m.”
“But with such a big crowd, couldn’t someone have slipped away?”
“Several shutterbugs took pictures all night long.” Wally rested his hand on the small of her back. “I’ve got Anthony checking the photos and time stamps to see if we can confirm that none of them snuck out a back exit between twelve and twelve thirty.”
“Which is the remaining half hour in the timeline the ME gave for the murder?” Skye clarified for herself.
“Yes.”
“Let’s see.” As she and Wally walked over to the steps leading to the front door, Skye visualized the bowling alley bar setup. “Forty people took part in the speed dating.”
“Right.”
“The Sechrest twins didn’t participate, but Alexis, Lola, Kyle, and the other two judges did, which leaves thirty-five cat show competitors who were also speed daters.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Kyle and Lola didn’t go to the after party. Did their dates?”
“Yes. As it happens, Kyle’s and Lola’s dates got together and went as a couple.”
“Of course Alexis didn’t go. And Ivan Quigley left early and said he went straight home, as did Fawn Irving. Did Elijah go to the Brown Bag?”
Wally shook his head.
“And I assume the bartender, deejay, bouncer, and servers didn’t go, either, which leaves thirty-four.” She paused to check her math, then asked, “Who were the other two that went to the bar?”
“A couple of the breeders made a love connection during the show, so opted out of the speed-dating event,” Wally explained as he rang the doorbell. “But they did attend the party and go to the Brown Bag with the
rest of the group.” He punched the bell again.
A second later, the door was flung open and Lola Martinez yelled, “I told you to leave me alone!” She blinked as her gaze settled on Skye and Wally. “Oops! Sorry. I thought you were my ex.”
“Ex-husband?” Skye asked.
“No.” Lola shook her head. “Ex-boyfriend. Ever since that slut he left me for dumped him, he’s been trying to get me back. He’s been calling me all afternoon.”
“May we come in, Ms. Martinez?” Wally interjected. “I’m Chief Boyd from the Scumble River Police. I believe you talked to Sergeant Quirk earlier, and you already know Skye, who’s the department’s psychological consultant. We have a few questions to ask you about this past weekend.” When Lola hesitated, he added, “It’s important and I promise we won’t take up too much of your time.”
“Sure.” She smoothed the stained blue chambray shirt she was wearing. “I was working on a new design. Just let me turn off my soldering iron.” She moved over to a drafting table.
Skye and Wally stepped into a large area that clearly was meant to be the house’s living room, but most of the space was taken up with jewelry-making equipment. Shelves holding pieces in various stages of completion lined three of the four walls and a massive painting of Lola stretched out semi-nude on a bed hung on the fourth.
Lola motioned them to the sofa facing the portrait, then dragged the leather swivel chair from behind her desk over to where they sat.
Sinking into the seat, she looked at Skye and asked, “Is this the man who bought you that gorgeous engagement ring?”
“Yes, it is.” Skye twisted the diamond on her finger. “Wally’s my fiancé.”
“You didn’t mention he was the chief of police or that he was so handsome.”
“Uh.” Skye felt the color creep up her cheeks. “It didn’t come up.”
“It’s a good thing Alexis never met him.” Lola’s tone was teasing. “She would have sunk her claws in faster than a cat at a scratching post.”
“I’m sure she would have tried.” Skye glanced at Wally, who seemed disconcerted by the jewelry maker’s bluntness. “But she never would have succeeded.”
Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery Page 9
