Before Skye could speak, she spotted an elderly woman wearing a neon orange muumuu and hot pink high-top sneakers teetering across the grass toward them. She looked old enough to have had buffalo as pets and meaner than Custer at his last stand.
The infamous MeMa had arrived. She was the family matriarch and Earl’s grandmother, or maybe great-grandmother; Skye had never quite figured out the Dooziers’ twisted family tree.
MeMa walked up to Skye, squinted, and quavered, “Are you knocked up?”
“Uh.” Skye paused to consider the best way to respond. “Why do you ask?”
“That picture Earl showed me on the computer.” MeMa sniggered. “You sure as hell looked in the family way in that shot.”
“Not my best angle,” Skye said cautiously.
“Ain’t that the truth?” MeMa’s smile was like a rusty chain saw, and her faded brown eyes disappeared into her wrinkles, giving her the appearance of one of those dried-apple dolls.
“Nice chatting.” Skye’s heart was pounding. She was not telling the Dooziers about the baby before her own family knew. It was time to skedaddle. “Good luck with your tournament.”
“You sure you want to leave?” A crafty expression stole over MeMa’s face. “You could play Earl’s game first. Then we’d forget all about seein’ that picture.”
“Maybe later.” Skye kept retreating.
“You know that dead lady sure did like putting embarrassing stuff up for the world to look at.” Earl reached into a cooler, fished out a dripping Pabst Blue Ribbon, and popped the top. He gestured to the empty cans he’d arranged in a solid triangle and grinned. “My food pyramid is made outta beer cans.”
“Cute.” Skye hesitated, curious what Earl had to say about Blair.
“Sometimes that teacher woman put up pictures and then took ’em down so fast you almost thought you were imaginin’ things.”
“Interesting.” Skye walked backward. She was almost out of earshot, and when Earl didn’t add anything to his observations about Blair’s Open Book practices, Skye hurriedly bade the Dooziers good-bye and ran for it.
Holy smokes! That had been close. Good thing they were making the baby announcement tonight.
Arriving back at the rubber duck booth, she helped Trixie put away the money. While she counted the cash, she thought about Earl’s comments. Why would Blair put up pictures and comments, then take them right down? And did those actions have something to do with her murder?
CHAPTER 25
YBS—You’ll Be Sorry
Trixie held a walkie-talkie to her lips and said, “Paige, start the race.”
It was four o’clock, and Skye stood on the shore next to her friend, watching as the ducks went bobbing out of sight. From her vantage point, the rubber ducks looked like brightly colored M&M’s quickly disappearing down the river.
Skye turned from the water and asked, “Who’s collecting the ducks at the railroad bridge?”
“Owen’s in charge of the group of students waiting at the finish line.”
“How did you rope your poor husband into doing that?”
“He volunteered.” Trixie’s expression was innocent, but Skye didn’t buy her act. “I figured some people are really competitive, so it would be best to have a guy there watching over the kids. Plus, he’s got his shotgun in his truck if anyone gets too rough.”
“Over a duck race?”
“When there’s money involved, you can never tell.” Trixie clipped her walkie-talkie to her belt. “Not to mention the people who want to win at all costs.” She twitched her shoulders, then said, “Speaking of husbands, here comes yours.”
Skye opened her mouth to greet Wally, but before she spoke, a thought hit her, and instead of saying hello, she demanded, “Did you ever figure out Blair’s password?”
“No.” He sighed. “I’ll have to send the phone to the crime lab tomorrow.”
“Something Trixie just said gave me an idea.” Skye grabbed his hand. “Can you leave here?”
“I guess.” He craned his neck and looked around. “Sure. The vendors are all packing up. Let me tell my officers to handle traffic control without me.”
“Meet me at the police station.” Skye gave him a quick kiss and hurried away.
As she drove herself to the PD, Skye considered her theory. Blair’s whole self-concept was wrapped around being a winner, and Skye would bet her new Betsey Johnson sandals that the volleyball coach’s password was some variation of that theme.
Using her key to let herself in through the PD’s garage entrance, Skye walked down the narrow corridor. It had taken her quite a while to get out of the motel’s parking lot, and when she turned the corner, Wally was already standing in the open doorway of the coffee/interrogation room.
Wally held up a bright red cell phone. “I take it that your idea has something to do with this.”
“Uh-huh.” Skye brushed past him. “Let’s do this in your office.”
As soon as they were seated and the door was shut, Wally asked, “Did you figure out Blair’s password?”
Skye explained her thoughts about Blair’s mental image of herself, then said, “So I wonder if she uses something like winner.”
“Let’s give it a try.” Wally tapped the keys, then shook his head. “Any other guesses?”
“Winner2006 or 2006Winner.” Skye leaned forward and watched Wally enter those suggestions and several variations like 06Winner and Winner06 and similar combinations.
“Nope.” Wally slumped back in his chair. “Son of a buck! I thought you were onto something.”
“How about Champion, Championship, 2006Championship, or Championship2006?”
Wally tapped away, and a moment later he turned the cell toward Skye. “We’re in.”
“Can you find the pictures on her phone?” Skye asked, then explained what Earl had said about the snapshots on Open Book appearing and then disappearing within a few seconds. “I think Blair might have been using her habit of taking snapshots and putting up photos to blackmail people. After all, Thor said that she didn’t get her inheritance until she turned thirty. So she only had her teacher’s salary to live on. Which, if she grew up in a wealthy environment, might not seem like much to her. I bet if she hadn’t died that night after she took my picture, she would have tried to get something from me in order to take it down.”
“Okay.” Wally got up and pointed to his chair. “You sit here and get Open Book on my computer so we can compare what she has on her folio and what she only has on her cell.”
They worked steadily through the photos until Wally thrust the phone at Skye and said, “Look here. This woman seems familiar, but I can’t place her. And the series of snapshots of her on the vic’s cell isn’t on her folio.”
“That’s Oriana Northrup. Her daughter is a special needs student at Scumble River High.” Skye squinted at the tiny screen. “Who is that she’s handing a bundle of cash to?”
“That’s Banjo Bender, the guy I suspected of setting all the fires the past few months,” Wally answered. “I wish I could have arrested him when I had him, but we didn’t have enough evidence to hold him.”
“I guess we can’t expect all the bad guys to confess,” Skye sympathized.
“Northrup, as in Northrup’s Clean and Bright?” Wally said, and when Skye nodded, he continued. “That’s why she looks familiar. She owns the Laundromat, which if I recall correctly, was the first building to burn down in Scumble River’s string of fires. It happened just before midnight the day we left on our honeymoon.”
“That explains why I don’t remember it more clearly. I read about it in the paper after we got back, but I wasn’t around for the gossip.”
Skye’s mind raced as she viewed the rest of the pictures, which were time- and date-stamped.
As they went through the rest of the photos, they found one
of Banjo Bender setting fire to the Clean and Bright, and Wally quickly scrolled back through the series. First was Oriana handing Bender the initial stack of cash, then Bender setting the fire, and finally, Oriana giving him another pile of money.
“Did you notice when that last picture was taken?” Wally asked.
“Two weeks ago.” Skye did a quick calculation. “It was probably right after the insurance check arrived. From the previous photos, it looks as if Oriana gave Banjo a partial payment to set the fire. Then, in this final snapshot, he’d completed his assignment to burn down her business, she received the insurance money, and she’s paying him the rest of his fee.” She frowned. “How in the world did Blair get these pictures?”
“The vic’s house is next to the Laundromat.” Wally rubbed his chin. “Martinez mentioned that it was a good thing that the Clean and Bright wasn’t open twenty-four hours because Blair’s bedroom balcony overlooks the parking area.” Wally pressed his fingers to his temples. “This would explain the ten thousand dollars in cash we found in the vic’s safe.”
“Money that Blair got from blackmailing Oriana.” Skye nodded. “Do you know how much insurance Oriana collected on her business?”
Wally walked to a file cabinet and selected a folder. He flipped it open and said, “She owned the building, so she collected a cool quarter of a million bucks, plus an additional amount for lost income.”
“That’s certainly enough moola to make blackmail worthwhile.” Skye pursed her lips. “Blair must have demanded hush money right after she witnessed Oriana giving Banjo the final fee for the arson. Then I bet Blair got greedy, pressed for another payment, and that’s when Oriana decided to kill her.”
“I agree.” Wally reached for the phone on his desk and dialed. A few seconds later he said, “Quirk, I need you to go pick up Oriana Northrup for questioning in connection with the murder of Blair Hucksford.” He read the woman’s address off the file. “If she’s not at home, sit on the house until she gets there.”
“Wait,” Skye said before Wally ended the call. She had an idea.
He told the sergeant to hang on and motioned for Skye to speak.
Skye took a deep breath and said, “Trixie mentioned that Oriana’s daughter was a member of the community service club that put on the duck races. And remember, I told you that Trixie arranged a pizza party for those kids from four thirty to six.”
Wally looked at his watch and said, “It’s five thirty.”
“The gathering is at the bowling alley, and considering what I’ve observed about Oriana as a parent, she’ll be waiting in her car to pick up her daughter way before the celebration is due to end.”
After determining the license plate number of Oriana’s vehicle and running it to find out the make and model, Wally conveyed the information to Quirk and told him to check the bowling alley parking lot for the suspect.
Once he had replaced the receiver in the base, Skye asked, “Do you want me with you when you interrogate Oriana?”
“I think it would be best, since you have some relationship with her.”
“Then I’d better let Mom know we’re both going to be late for dinner and to go ahead and eat without us.”
While Skye used her cell to phone her mother, Wally made another call. “Martinez, I saw Banjo Bender at your location. Is he still there? He is. Good. Arrest him and bring him to the PD.”
When Skye got off the phone with her mother, she asked Wally about his call. “What was that all about?”
“Martinez’s assigned to keep an eye on the beer tent in the park, which is open until six. I noticed Bender bellied up to the bar there earlier, and he looked as if he was settled in for the long haul.”
While they waited, Wally contacted the city attorney to request a search warrant for all of Oriana’s and Banjo’s properties. The lawyer complained about bothering a judge on a Sunday night but eventually promised to make the attempt.
Within half an hour, Banjo Bender was led into the PD, and a few minutes later, Quirk escorted Oriana Northrup through the door. They were read their rights and both declined representation. While Oriana was fingerprinted and Banjo was put into the basement holding cell, Skye went into the interrogation room to set things up.
Oriana was still protesting her innocence when Wally led her to her seat and continued throughout the whole tape-recorder ritual. But once the woman saw the first few pictures on Blair’s phone, she snapped her mouth shut so hard Skye thought she heard a tooth crack.
After a few seconds, Oriana said, “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh?” Skye shot Wally a quick glance. Where had they heard that before?
“I was paying Banjo to watch the Laundromat. I don’t know why he burned it down.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Wally asked. “And why did you give him additional cash a couple of weeks ago?” He showed her the second series of photos on Blair’s phone.
“I was afraid Banjo would hurt me if I told on him or refused to give him more money.” Oriana looked at Wally as if he were crazy. “That man’s a criminal.”
“Why didn’t you report Blair when she tried to blackmail you?” Skye asked.
“She wasn’t,” Oriana said quickly, and then crossed her arms. “And you can’t prove otherwise.”
“Did you know that when you get a lot of cash from a bank, very often the serial numbers are sequential?” Wally asked conversationally.
“No.” Oriana wrinkled her brow, then must have decided to tough it out. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“Once we get a search warrant, which should be within the hour, we’ll go through Banjo’s place with a fine-tooth comb.” Wally leaned back. “My guess is, along with arson materials, we’ll find some of the money you paid him. At that point, Banjo’s lawyer will advise him to take a plea bargain—a lighter sentence for the arson in return for giving evidence against you. Once he testifies that you gave him the cash, we’ll connect the bills he has to the ones that Blair had in her safe, thus establishing that she was blackmailing you. And then we’ll charge you with murder.”
“I . . .” Oriana gulped, a look of panic on her face. “A jury will believe me over a career criminal.”
“Maybe.” Skye shrugged. “But how about the evidence? Why else would you have given Blair ten thousand dollars?”
“Uh.” Oriana wrinkled her brow. “I . . . uh . . . She was tutoring Ashley.”
“Right.” Wally’s voice was knife-edged. “And you paid her in cash.”
“Yes.” Oriana’s voice cracked. “She wanted to avoid paying taxes.”
“Blair taught junior and senior level science.” Skye leaned forward. “She wouldn’t have been qualified to tutor a student with special needs like your daughter.”
“That doesn’t prove anything!” Oriana screamed. “You’re twisting everything.”
“In fact, the reason you hired Banjo to torch the Clean and Bright was to get the money to send Ashley to Thorntree Academy. Even though during our initial meeting you tried one more time to get the public school district to foot the bill, it was pretty obvious that you knew the school board would never pay for a private placement.” Skye’s tone was sympathetic. “And you wanted your daughter to have the best education possible, not just what was deemed appropriate.”
“She needs more than just what you all deem appropriate,” Oriana snarled. “She needs to be able to take care of herself once I’m gone, and you’re right, I knew the public school would never agree to pay for Thorntree.”
“I understand,” Skye said soothingly. “Often, when kids start high school, parents realize that time is running out for their children to get the education that they need to succeed later in life and the parents panic. But unlike most parents, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Your request that Ashley attend Thorntree was about a week after t
he check’s arrival.”
“I . . . I . . .” Oriana scrubbed her eyes with her fists.
A glint from the woman’s finger caught Skye’s attention, and she leaned over to Wally and whispered, “I bet that gold nugget ring she’s wearing is what caused the gouges on Blair’s scalp.”
Wally rose, took an evidence bag from one of the cupboards, extended it, and said, “Please place your ring inside, Mrs. Northrup.”
She hesitated but complied, then asked, “Why do you want my ring?”
“Because when the crime techs match it to the wounds on the victim’s head and find traces of Blair’s DNA in the grooves”—Wally dangled the bag in front of the woman’s eyes—“it will be physical proof that you killed her.”
“Maybe I do need a lawyer.” Oriana slumped in her chair.
“Only if you want to escalate the proceedings.” Wally hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “And it’ll take a lot more time. I hope you have someone to watch Ashley for the rest of the night. Quirk told me you called a neighbor to pick her up from the pizza party. Will your friend be able to keep Ashley all night?”
“No. She works the third shift.” She looked at Skye. “What do you think I should do?”
“Well, you do have a right to counsel,” Skye spoke carefully. “But then you won’t be able to tell us your side of the story. We won’t know the mitigating circumstances of the situation.” She paused to let Oriana think about what she’d said, then asked, “Do you want to call your attorney?”
“I’m not sure.” Oriana sniffed.
“Well, you can anytime.” Skye didn’t want the judge to throw out her confession because Oriana’s rights hadn’t been upheld. “But let me tell you what I think happened.” She smiled reassuringly at her. “I think you were just trying to talk to Blair that night. Tell her you couldn’t keep giving her money because you needed it for Ashley’s tuition. I totally understand how you felt you had to get the best education for Ashley, but I bet Blair didn’t. She probably attacked you. She’s much bigger than you are, so you Tasered her in self-defense.”
Murder of An Open Book: A Scumble River Mystery (Scumble River Mysteries Book 18) Page 23
