“I’ll have to try that at home sometime.” Skye diverted her fingers from below his waist to the muscles of his arms, and Wally made a disappointed sound. “We haven’t seemed to have much time alone lately.” She looked up into her husband’s dark chocolate eyes and arched a brow. “Are you up for a ride, cowboy?”
“Always.” Wally flipped her onto her back and nuzzled her neck. “No morning sickness?”
“Nope.” Skye tilted her head to the side to give him better access to the sensitive skin underneath her ear and purred, “Let’s get this rodeo started.”
* * *
It was past ten by the time Skye and Wally finally made it downstairs. On the weekends Wally usually made his famous blueberry pancakes and fried up some of the venison breakfast sausage his father regularly shipped him from Texas. But since the next meat delivery wasn’t due until the following week and neither of them had made it to the grocery store, they had to settle for cold cereal.
Although Skye was still a little uneasy with the idea of a housekeeper, she had to admit that Dorothy’s efforts were a godsend. With the house clean and the laundry done, the Saturday chores that had eaten up most of Skye’s day were a thing of the past.
Lingering over a second cup of coffee, Wally said, “I’m going to run in to the PD for a few hours to help Martinez look through the vic’s possessions for her password.” He got up and washed out his mug, then dried his hands. “I wish I could call in a few more officers to assist with the search, but there’s no money left in my budget to pay them, and I need to keep at least one squad car on patrol.”
“Will you be back in time for the baby shower?” Skye asked. Vince had insisted on a coed party, something new to Scumble River.
“I’ll make sure that I am.” Wally kissed the top of Skye’s head. “I can’t afford to get on the bad side of my new mother-in-law.”
“Smart move.” Skye rose from the table and walked with Wally down the hallway. “We don’t want to take away from Vince and Loretta’s special day, so I’m thinking we’ll wait and announce our impending bundle of joy tomorrow, after the duck races.”
“How are we going to do that?” Wally asked, pausing in the foyer.
“Well, you know that Trixie’s fund-raiser has blossomed into quite an affair.” Skye put her arms around his waist. “The ducks are being released at the boat-launch area in the park at four, but a bunch of other events are scheduled earlier in the afternoon. How Trixie managed to pull it all together in less than a week is beyond me, but since I didn’t want to be drafted to help out, I didn’t ask her.”
“Good plan.”
“I thought so.” Skye grinned. “Anyway, Mom decided to have us all over for dinner after the race, to help her eat up whatever food is left over from today’s baby shower.”
“What does dinner at your mom’s house have to do with the race?”
“I have no idea.” Skye shrugged. “Maybe because she figured we’ll all be around for Trixie’s fund-raiser. Mom’s invited Grandma Denison, Vince and Loretta, Uncle Charlie, of course, and also Trixie and Owen, which should make telling everyone at one time a lot easier. That way no one’s feelings get hurt because they weren’t the first to know. We can even get your dad on speakerphone.”
“Letting everyone know at once is definitely the way to go.” Wally gave her a sweet kiss, then reluctantly released her. “I can’t wait for the whole world to know that you’re having my baby.” He frowned. “I might be a little late for your mom’s dinner, though. The reason I’m out of funds for the murder investigation is that I’m using the rest of my overtime reserves to pull in all the officers that I can to patrol the park on Sunday. But with a big crowd expected, I’ll have to keep an eye on things, too.”
“That’s fine.” Skye smiled. “Much to my father’s displeasure, we aren’t eating until six thirty, because Trixie’s pizza party for the kids who were involved in the duck race doesn’t end until six. You’ll probably be free by then, and we’ll make the announcement after everyone is finished with supper.”
“Terrific.” Wally grinned.
Once Wally was gone, Skye grabbed her grocery list and headed to the supermarket. Ninety minutes later, their food supplies were restocked and Skye settled in front of her laptop. Vince and Loretta’s baby gift was wrapped, so she had two hours to read through Blair’s Open Book postings before she had to get dressed for the shower.
It took a phone call to Emmy and a couple to Justin, but Skye finally managed to enroll in Open Book and access Blair’s folio—which was what the site called the spot that held all of the members’ messages. As Skye and Wally had suspected, the privacy controls were set to unrestricted, and she could see everything Blair had ever put up. From the sheer volume, it appeared the volleyball coach had recorded and shared her every waking moment.
There were photos of Blair’s manicured toes, her cup of cappuccino, the view from her classroom window, and even the foil in her hair while she was getting highlights at the beauty parlor. Skye paused at that last one. It didn’t look like Great Expectations, Vince’s hair salon, but whoever had done Blair’s color was very good. Skye would have never guessed the color variations in Blair’s copper curls weren’t natural.
The meaning of the pictures was mostly fairly obvious, but some of the messages Blair had written were more puzzling. Several seemed like warnings. There was one that read:
Stop it, my Open Book pals! I understand that when the girls attend long practices, it’s an inconvenience, but the last thing you should complain about is my winning method of coaching. I fixed a broken team. Thank me. Show your appreciation. And shut the hell up! Or there will be penalties.
Skye jotted down that message and a few others, before coming to another cryptic note.
Hey, you all. My life must seem great, but it’s not perfect. Someone knows how to make me happier, but they aren’t cooperating. If that person doesn’t come through pretty damn soon, there will be consequences!
Wally needed to see this, too. Skye wrote it down, then checked her watch. It was after two thirty. She’d give herself half an hour, but after that, she had to stop and change clothes.
Scrolling through the pages of the folio, Skye quickly glanced through more photographs. There were pictures of teachers and other people she recognized from around town, and nearly all of the snapshots seemed intent on capturing folks’ most embarrassing moments.
Skye was tsking at Blair’s meanness when she brought her cursor to a screeching halt. There in front of her were several photos of Skye climbing out of the pool, her bathing suit pasted against her body. It was not a flattering angle, and Skye cringed as she gazed at her sopping-wet appearance.
According to the time stamp, the pictures had been posted Monday morning at 6:21. Underneath the snapshots, Blair had typed, This is our chunky school psychologist, Skye Denison-Boyd. She needs to either lose weight or announce she’s with child. I’m sure she won’t be thrilled that I’ve put up these pix of her, but maybe next time she’ll think twice before breaking my rules.
“Shit!” Skye screamed, her heart beating wildly. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“What in Sam Hill is wrong?” Wally ran into the kitchen, his hand on his gun.
“This.” Skye pointed to the laptop’s monitor. She had been so engrossed that she hadn’t heard him come home. “Do you think that everyone already knows that I’m pregnant?”
“I’m sure our phone would be ringing off the hook if that were the case,” Wally reassured her, then leaned in to inspect the picture more closely. He let loose a string of curses, finally asking between gritted teeth, “Did you know she’d taken those pictures of you?”
“Of course not.” Skye recalled the feeling of being watched that morning. “I would have never allowed her to photograph me.”
“How could you have stopped her?” Wally asked as he scrolled up and d
own Blair’s folio. “It looks as if she took pictures of whatever she damn well pleased, then put them all on Open Book. The more humiliating the snapshot, the better.”
“And my guess is Blair finally put up a photo or a message that made someone mad enough to kill her. I didn’t see anything, but maybe it’s something that only the murderer recognizes.”
“Or maybe the killer is a hacker who somehow managed to take it down from the site,” Wally suggested. “I wonder if I can get a court order for Open Book to release its records.”
“Right.” Skye snickered. “By the time that happens, we’ll be retired and living in Florida.”
“Well, I’d definitely make the trip back here to prosecute the murderer.”
“Me too!”
CHAPTER 23
BGWM—Be Gentle with Me
“I’ve never been to a baby shower,” Wally commented as he and Skye got into his Thunderbird. “What happens at these things?”
“They’re usually pretty boring.” She rolled down the window. The weather had finally warmed up, and the Ford was stifling inside. “We eat, play a couple of silly games, and then watch the guest of honor open gift after gift.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Wally started to back out of the driveway, but stopped and asked, “It’s at your parents’ place, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Skye put the window up. Now she was cold. Pregnancy had thrown her internal thermostat all out of whack.
“Wasn’t the shower originally going to be held in Laurel at Harry’s restaurant?”
“That was never going to happen.” Skye adjusted the seat belt. Why was it suddenly cutting into her neck? “Loretta’s mother wanted the shower held at Harry’s, because she said any other venue made it look like the hosts were too cheap to spring for a restaurant meal.”
“Who exactly is putting on this shindig?”
“Technically, the cousins and I am.” Skye wrinkled her nose. “But Mom made all the plans. We just paid our share and shut up.”
“What a surprise.” Wally’s lips quirked. “Imagine May taking over.”
“Loretta’s mother tried to grab control, and the location of the shower became a battle of wills between the soon-to-be grandmas, but Mom insisted that generations upon generations of Scumble Riverites had always held their celebrations in their homes, and she wasn’t changing her family traditions for city folk.”
“And May won.”
“Of course.” Skye flipped down the visor to check her hair. Good. The humidity hadn’t turned the smooth style she’d achieved using hot rollers and massive quantities of hair spray into a mass of curls—at least not yet. “Mrs. Steiner decided to hold her own baby shower. Hers is next weekend at Everest in Chicago.” Skye stuck out her bottom lip. “I wish we were going to that party. Everest is rated as one of the country’s best restaurants. Chef Joho’s food is world-famous, and the view is supposed to be out of this world.”
“Darlin’, if you want to eat at Everest, we can go anytime, or to any other restaurant your little heart desires.” Wally reached over and took her hand. “We can celebrate being pregnant.”
“I’ve heard reservations at Everest are hard to get, so it will probably take a while,” Skye said. “But that would be amazing.”
“Consider it done.” Wally turned onto the road leading to the Denisons’ farm.
“Keep your eyes peeled for deer,” Skye warned. “Dad said the population is out of control, and there’ve been lots of cars running into them along this stretch.”
“Yeah, I heard that, too.” The corner of Wally’s mouth turned up. “In fact, we had a deer-vehicle incident late last night.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“The driver of the pickup truck was fine, but the fiberglass whitetail buck in Mayor Leofanti’s front yard is resting in pieces.”
Skye laughed, then said, “Uncle Dante must be fuming.”
“He wanted the guy arrested for deerslaughter, but the best we could do was reckless driving and DUI.” Wally pulled into the Denisons’ already packed driveway. “Hey, it looks like the party is being held in the garage.”
“I figured as much.” Skye twitched her shoulders. “With all the relatives and friends, and then Vince insisting it be a coed shower, there wouldn’t be room in the house.” She frowned. “I sure hope Loretta is okay with the arrangements. She’s used to places like Spiaggia and Tru, not my parents’ garage—even if it is cleaner and nicer than a lot of people’s houses.”
“By now Loretta knows the drill.” Wally got out of the Ford, picked up the present from the backseat, and walked around to open Skye’s door.
“Yeah. You’re right.” Skye took Wally’s hand and allowed him to help her. Exiting the low-slung car in a skirt and heels was tricky. She’d chosen to wear a black-and-white dress with an A-line cut that hid her blossoming figure and black peep-toe pumps. “It’s not as if Loretta doesn’t have any idea of how we do things around here.”
As they navigated the white pea-gravel driveway, Skye admired the huge trees that surrounded her parents’ redbrick ranch. Because of the cool March, the yard wasn’t in its usual putting-green condition yet, but a few more weeks and her dad would have it up to his standards. Some folks speculated that Jed used manicure scissors instead of a mower to cut the lawn, but she knew he achieved the perfection through an obsessive devotion to every blade of grass, twig, and flower petal.
With the exception of May’s concrete goose, which she had dressed in a diaper, baby bonnet, and pacifier, the scene looked like a picture from Country Gardens magazine. May tended to clothe the faux fowl according to her frame of mind, and Skye was relieved that this time the poultry’s outfit suited the occasion rather than containing an underlying message aimed at her.
Unless, of course, her mother had figured out Skye was pregnant. Nope! Not going there today.
Skye turned her attention to the open garage. She had talked May out of the Precious Moments theme and the Little Princess idea, but hadn’t been able to sway her mother from the Baby Love concept, so everything was pink. The whole shebang, from the giant banner that read WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, BABY APRIL to the plates, napkins, cups, plasticware, and favor bags, were a pale pink. As were the crepe paper streamers, bunches of balloons, and centerpieces of carnations in milk-glass vases.
It looked as if the entire space had been turned into an enormous cotton-candy machine. It could have been worse; a brighter hue would have felt like they were inside a gigantic Pepto-Bismol bottle. Skye snickered softly, envisioning all the family’s übermasculine men hunkered down in May’s pale pink world.
She glanced at Wally, who was staring into the garage with his mouth hanging open and a bemused expression on his face. Finally, he sniggered and said, “Your mom really goes all out, doesn’t she?”
“And then some.” She had a scary flash of what May would do for Skye’s baby shower. Images of a gigantic golden throne and life-size angels hanging from the ceiling zoomed through her head.
She must have whimpered, because Wally asked, “Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Skye took a deep breath. “I just spaced out for a sec.”
“Well, you sure had a funny expression on your face.” He tilted his head.
“I was just trying to decide what shade the tablecloths were.” Skye pointed. “What do you think? Dusky rose or cameo?”
“Darlin’, most men see only a dozen or so basic colors. For example, peach is a fruit not a color. Same goes for plum, and celery is a vegetable.” He scratched his head. “And no red-blooded male knows what in the hell constitutes mauve.”
“Your Texas is showing.” Smiling, Skye poked him in the biceps.
“And that’s a bad thing?” Wally wiggled his eyebrows. “I thought you enjoyed a little ride with a cowboy now and then.”
“Anytime, sweetie. Anytime.
”
“I’ll remind you of that when I get you alone.” Wally kissed her, then asked, “Where is everyone?” He gestured behind them. “There’s at least a half-dozen cars parked in the driveway, so we can’t be the first ones to arrive.”
He was right. The scene was set, but all the chairs were empty. She’d forgotten that he was unaware of the preparty protocol.
“The shower doesn’t actually start until four thirty.” Skye explained the empty garage. “But the aunts and cousins come early to help get everything ready for the ‘real’ guests.”
Before Wally could respond, Skye heard the back door open and May yell, “What are you two standing around outside for? Come in and give us a hand. Vince and Loretta will be here any minute.”
“Coming.” Skye entwined her fingers with Wally’s and led him inside. She felt sorry for him. The poor man had no idea what was in store for him.
As Skye put her purse on top of the dryer in the utility room and indicated that Wally should leave the gift there as well, she spotted a new decoration on the wall. It was a plaque bearing the image of a woman wearing a 1950s-style dress and apron with the words: LIFE IS MADE UP OF MANY CHOICES. YOURS IS TO REMOVE YOUR SHOES OR MOP THE FLOOR.
After she and Wally complied with the sign’s instructions, they followed May through the swinging louvered doors. The green-and-white-striped walls of the large kitchen/dinette had recently been repainted dark beige, and the peninsula now sported a deep brown granite top. Usually stools edged the counter, but today a group of women ranging in age from midtwenties to late seventies was around it. They all looked up as Skye and Wally entered, waved their hellos, and then went back to their conversations.
“Come give Grandma a hug.” Skye’s grandmother greeted them from the round glass and rattan table—another new addition from May’s latest redecoration binge. When she had Skye enfolded in her arms, Cora said, “As usual, you look pretty as a picture. Marriage seems to be agreeing with you. You’re absolutely glowing.”
Murder of An Open Book: A Scumble River Mystery (Scumble River Mysteries Book 18) Page 21
