After briefly embracing Simon, Skye said, “We’d better get going. Mom’s worried we’ll be late and miss all the food.”
“Let’s go, then.” Simon raised an eyebrow and grinned. “We can’t have May in a tizzy.”
May and Simon had a mutual admiration society going. May thought Simon would be the perfect husband for Skye and father for her children. And Simon thought May was the ideal mom, unlike his own mother, Bunny, who had recently reentered his life after a twenty-year absence. Skye, on the other hand, found Bunny’s casual but not smothering affection refreshing.
It took them only a few minutes to drive to the VFW Hall, where the rally was being held. The veterans were backing Wally and had offered their facility for the event.
People stood three deep at the bar, creating a human wall blocking access to the rest of the building. Simon and Skye edged through the throng as they headed for the banquet hall in back. They finally made it through the doorway but could only take a few steps inside. The room was already crowded, and the people waiting in line for the buffet to open snaked twice around the perimeter.
Skye’s parents waved from their spot near the front, but not wanting to start a riot, she and Simon didn’t try to join them. Cutting in a buffet line in Scumble River was akin to cheating on an exam at West Point: at the least, it could get you thrown out, and at the worst, you might find yourself on the wrong end of a gun barrel some dark evening.
Simon asked, “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to stand in line?”
“No.”
“Then let’s have a drink first.” Simon tugged her toward a portable bar that had been set up at the back of the room. “My guess is that once the buffet opens up, the line will go down pretty fast.”
“Okay. I’ll grab a table.” Skye let go of Simon’s hand. “Get me a Diet Coke with lots of ice and a lime, and if they have pretzels or anything, bring some of those too, please.”
Skye watched Simon disappear into the horde and then flung herself into the mass. Once she broke through the outer mob, the middle of the room was relatively deserted. Skye chose a table near the center front where they should be able to see and hear everything.
She could see instruments and amps scattered across the stage and wondered if Vince’s group would still play now that they had been told their lead singer was dead. And if they didn’t, who would Wally get at the last minute to fill in? She just hoped it wasn’t the Maxalencovich Accordion Trio, Scumble River’s only other entertainment option.
Since attendance at this event would be a declaration of support for Wally as mayor, Skye looked around to see who had come out on his side. She noticed several people she worked with, which was a bit surprising since Ace Cramer, the other candidate, was a well-liked teacher.
More expected attendees were the officers and dispatchers from the police department. Wally was popular with his employees.
Skye strained to see the rest of the room, curious as to which of the town’s business owners would support the chief. A swell of voices indicated that the buffet had opened, and the mob surged forward. Simon’s prediction proved right, and the line moved quickly. By the time he joined Skye at the table, nearly half the people were balancing full plates and searching for places to sit.
He put a tall glass in front of her. “Sorry, no snacks, but it looks like we’ll get to eat supper soon.”
‘Thanks anyway.” Skye smiled at Simon as he sat next to her, then pointed and asked, “Isn’t that Xavier and Frannie over there?”
He looked where she had indicated and nodded. “Okay if we ask them to join us?”
“Definitely. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Frannie at school today, and I want to see how she is.”
Simon waved his arm at Xavier, who nodded and spoke to his daughter. The two headed toward Skye and Simon.
When they arrived, Skye said, “Hi! Mmm, the food looks wonderful.”
Xavier nodded to her and Simon as he held out a chair for his daughter and then seated himself. He wore a shiny navy blue suit that Skye had seen him wearing at every wake and funeral she had ever attended. She wondered if he had several of them or if it was the same one all the time.
Frannie started talking before she was fully settled at the table. “Ms. D., I have an awesome idea for the front page of the next edition of the Scoop.”
“Great. I’m glad to see you here. I wanted to talk to you at school today and make sure you were okay, but I never caught up with you.”
“I’m fine.” A shadow crossed the girl’s face. “I guess you saved my life.”
“No. You were all right.” Skye patted Frannie’s hand. “Someone would have found you sooner or later.”
Frannie nodded but didn’t look convinced.
Skye made a mental note to talk to the girl alone and help her process the experience, but since this wasn’t the time or place, she decided to change the subject. “Nice dress.”
“Thanks. Another one of my catalog purchases.” Frannie retied the ribbon on the peasant neckline. “I’m finally getting some cool clothes.”
Simon and Xavier had been silent while the females were talking, but now Simon spoke up. “But you always look nice, Frannie.”
Frannie rolled her eyes at Skye, who shrugged. Most men knew about as much about fashion as Skye knew about subatomic physics.
Skye turned to Xavier, who was looking at them as if they were all aliens. “I’m glad to see Frannie is feeling well enough to be out this evening,” Skye said.
He dipped his head slightly. “Me too, miss.” His pale blue lashless eyes were magnified behind old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses, making them seem reptilian. “I wanted to thank you for saving her.”
“Really, I didn’t do anything.” Skye was embarrassed by his gratitude and she tried to make light of her part in Frannie’s rescue. “I couldn’t have our school’s star reporter get hurt.”
Xavier nodded, as if understanding her discomfort. “I was happy to hear she would be spending some time with you on the newspaper. With me being older than the other fathers and her mother gone, she’s needed a woman’s attention.”
“No problem. I like spending time with Frannie.” Skye hadn’t quite figured Xavier out yet. When she first met him, she had been slightly repulsed by his odd appearance, but since then, she had found a lot to admire.
The four of them were quiet until Skye said, “It was good of the veterans to donate the use of their banquet hall for Wally’s campaign rally.”
“We always support candidates who recognize the contribution the armed forces have made.” Xavier had been a medic in Vietnam.
It was Skye’s turn to nod.
Simon took her hand and said, “It looks like we can get some food now. Are you ready?”
“Yes. I’m starving.” Skye got up from her chair and said to Frannie and Xavier, “Excuse us. We’ll be back in a second.”
As they went through the buffet line, Skye and Simon ran into a friend from their bowling league, who said, “I hear you’re reopening the bowling alley next Friday night. Does that mean we’ll be able to play the Friday after that?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Great. I’ll spread the word.” He clapped Simon on the back and moved away.
Skye and Simon returned to their table in time to see Uncle Charlie mounting the steps to the stage. She had forgotten that he was Wally’s campaign manager. His booming voice didn’t need the microphone that he stood behind. He was dressed in his usual uniform of gray twill pants, white shirt, and suspenders. In honor of the occasion, he had added a red bow tie and polished his black work shoes.
Charlie waited for a few minutes as the crowd quieted, then he said, “Tonight it is my pleasure to introduce Scumble River police chief Walter Boyd.” He paused for the applause to finish then continued, “Walter Boyd has served Scumble River well for the past eighteen years, first as a patrolman, then sergeant, and finally as the chi
ef of police. Today he is officially announcing that he would like to continue to serve this town, but in a new capacity, as our mayor. Please welcome Walter Boyd.”
The clapping rose in a crescendo and then trailed off as Wally took center stage and gestured for silence. The few silver threads in his hair emphasized its ebony color, and the faint lines that bracketed his warm brown eyes made him appear open and friendly. His muscular build and year-round tan were shown to full advantage in a well-tailored black suit and crisp white shirt.
“Uh, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’m deeply honored that you have all come here tonight to support my campaign. Scumble River is a special town, and I want to keep it that way, which is why I’m running for mayor.”
Wally spoke for about twenty minutes and then concluded with, “Our town has had a rough couple of years. We still have not received the check Mr. Scumble promised us. The farmers have suffered from poor crops, and the recent layoffs at the power plant have put a good many of our citizens out of work. This has resulted in less money being spent, which has hurt our small business owners, who are struggling to keep their doors open.”
He paused and took a drink of water. “But we don’t have to roll over and take whatever someone wants to dish out to us. You’ve all heard about the proposed amusement park, Pig-In-A-Poke Land. So far the developer has made a lot of promises to a lot of people, but what he has not done is talk about the impact on our community. He has not discussed the increased traffic, the wear and tear on our public areas, and the danger of having so many strangers in our town. Most of all, he has not mentioned who will pay for the added police, extra repairs, and damage to our way of life.”
Skye leaned over to Simon and whispered, “If Wally’s elected mayor, could he stop Gibson from building that amusement park?”
“Not officially,” Simon answered. “The land Gibson wants to put it on is outside the city limits. No doubt he got the county permits he’ll need before anyone around here heard the first hint about the project. But as mayor, Wally will influence whether the town supports the amusement park or interferes with it.”
“Oh.” Skye turned her attention back to the stage.
Wally ended by saying, “We can and will recover from these setbacks without having to change the fundamental nature of the town we love.”
The crowd reacted to the end of his speech with thunderous applause, stomping feet, and whistles of approval. When the noise died down, Charlie returned to the stage and said, “Chief Boyd will now answer questions.” Charlie smiled genially and scanned the audience for raised hands.
Before he could acknowledge anyone, a voice from the rear of the room shouted, “If you’re such a wonderful police chief, why did it take a civilian to solve the Addisons’ murders? And will you need her help to find Logan Wolfe’s killer?”
In the ensuing silence, Skye felt her heart sink, and she considered crawling under the table. She knew that Wally had taken a lot of flak over her involvement in some of the recent murder investigations, but up until the Addison case, she had been able to keep her part in solving the crimes fairly quiet.
Unfortunately, the local paper, which had previously only featured advertisements and sports statistics, had changed hands. The new owner, intent on turning the Star into a real newspaper, had run a big story about her part in solving the murders.
As Wally started to respond to the question, Skye whispered to Simon, “Who said that?” She didn’t want to turn around, have the heckler spot her, and give the guy more ammunition.
Simon looked over his shoulder, then answered in a low voice, “I don’t recognize him, but he looks like Santa Claus.”
“Shit!” Skye dug through her purse and got her compact out. “I’ll bet it’s Moss Gibson.” She aimed it behind her and frowned. All she could see was a man’s red back as he slipped out of the room. “It had to be him, but he left before I got a good look.”
Wally must have noticed the man’s departure too, because he stopped what he had been saying about the police department always welcoming the assistance of anyone in the community and whispered something to Charlie before finishing his statement.
Charlie hurried away and disappeared out a side door.
CHAPTER 12
Material Girl
Wally continued to take questions until no more hands waved in the air, then said, “Thank you all for coming. Please stick around. The ladies will be putting out some delicious homemade cakes and cookies, and Pink Elephant has agreed to play while you enjoy your dessert.”
So Vince’s group was playing. Would they go on as a trio, or had they found a substitute vocalist to take Logan’s place? Skye watched the stage as Wally climbed down. His ex-wife, Darleen, met him at the bottom of the stairs and took his arm. He grimaced but allowed her to hang on to him as she whispered urgently into his ear. A moment later he and Darleen, her hand still possessively clutching his arm, walked toward a nearby table and started chatting with the group seated there.
Skye frowned. Darleen had been obsessed with the idea of having a baby, and when she found out she was unable to conceive, she had divorced Wally for a man whose wife had died and left him with an infant to care for. Skye wondered what had motivated her to return.
“What’s she doing with the chief?” Frannie voiced the question in Skye’s mind. “I thought they had split up.”
Skye kept the expression on her face neutral. “It’s not uncommon for divorced couples to reconcile.”
Simon looked at Skye thoughtfully before returning to his conversation with Xavier.
“Well, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Frannie’s face was stiff with disapproval. “You should tell Chief Boyd he can do better than her.”
Darleen was the special education teacher at the junior high school. Her lack of empathy and volatile temper had made her unpopular with all the students, not just the ones she had in her class.
“I think the chief can handle his own love life without my advice.” Skye’s attention was drawn back to the stage when the band started to ascend the stairs.
Vince was first up. He went immediately to his drums and started checking them out. Almost on his heels was Finn, who also began adjusting his instrument. After several minutes Rod came out of the back with Heather, and they too climbed the stairs. Rod helped the girl singer with her microphone before turning to his own preparation.
Skye raised an eyebrow. So the groupie had gotten her wish; she was now singing with the band. And all it took was Logan’s death. It looked like she would have to persuade Vince to talk to Wally about Heather after all.
Frannie said, “Wonder how they got a new singer so fast.”
Skye blinked. Sometimes it seemed as if the girl could read her mind. “They probably have a list of subs in case of emergency.” There was no way she would explain the Heather situation to the teen.
Frannie shrugged, clearly already bored with the subject, and said, “Want to go get some dessert?”
“Sure.”
Frannie jumped out of her chair and took off toward the sweet table.
Skye paused before following her to ask Simon and Xavier if she could get them anything. Simon accepted, requesting chocolate cake, but Xavier declined, saying he didn’t eat refined sugar.
Frannie and Skye browsed the dessert selection with the concentration of diamond experts picking the perfect stone. There was so much to choose from: slices of cake oozing with buttercream frosting, wedges of pie piled high with meringue, and brownies bursting with nuts or caramel. Best of all, whipped cream was everywhere.
Skye reached for a plate just as another hand swooped it away. She looked up into the bulging hazel eyes of Wally’s ex-wife.
Darleen Boyd’s penciled eyebrows rose high on her pale forehead. “Seems we both have the same taste in sweet things,” she said.
Skye felt herself flush. Surely Darleen wasn’t implying what Skye thought she was. Skye was pretty sure that only one o
r two people were aware of the chemistry between Wally and her—especially since they had never acted on their attraction.
Skye reached for another plate, her voice smooth as she said to Darleen, “There’s plenty here for both of us.”
“Perhaps.” The other woman’s glance swept Skye’s ample curves from head to toe. “But while I can afford the cost of indulging, it looks like you would be better off passing this time.”
Skye’s mouth dropped open, and for a moment she couldn’t think of a reply, but Frannie’s stricken expression snapped her out of her shock, and she shrugged nonchalantly. “Guess I’m just a nutritional overachiever.”
Darleen gave a brittle laugh. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that term.”
“No, I guess you wouldn’t be.” Skye stared into the other woman’s eyes without blinking. “An overachiever is someone who is successful despite certain challenges.”
Darleen blinked, then turned on her heel and walked away.
Skye examined the divorcée as she left. She was in her late thirties but dressed as if she were at least a decade younger. Tonight she wore a mini slip dress that emphasized her twiglike arms and legs. Her short brown hair covered her skull in feathery wisps, and her complexion was as pale as a piece of milk quartz.
Darleen joined Wally where he stood talking to a group of his supporters. As she fed him a bite of pie, her eyes bored directly into Skye’s, and the message was clear: Mine. No Trespassing Allowed.
The majority of the Meet and Greet attendees left after they ate dessert, and the few who remained at the bar or on the dance floor had started to glance at their watches and say their good-byes, too. Most events that took place on weeknights in Scumble River wrapped up before ten, and it was already nine-forty-five.
Xavier and Frannie had left with the first wave, as had Skye’s parents and most of her relatives. She and Simon stuck around for Vince’s sake, but she was yawning, and Simon had moved into a Zen-like state. Both were worn out by the events of the last few days.
Murder of a Pink Elephant Page 10
