Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry

by Denise Swanson

  Turning to the teens crowded behind her, Skye pointed to the kitchen and said, “Why don’t you guys help yourselves to some sodas and snacks while I change? When the doorbell rings, make sure it’s Chief Boyd; then let him in. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “What are you changing clothes for?” Justin demanded, looking her up and down.

  “Shut up,” Frannie hissed, elbowing him in the side. “I’ll explain later.”

  Skye ignored both teens and took the stairs two at a time, shutting the bedroom door behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she wiggled out of her slacks and yanked her blouse over her head. Luckily she had already selected a dress to wear, and she grabbed it from its hanger.

  As she pulled it over head and started to shimmy into it, she heard the phone ring. The dress was a straight black sheath, and required some time to get on. Hurrying was not an option, and before she was able to poke her head out of the draped neckline, there were two more rings.

  Skye rushed to the phone by her bedside, another improvement she had finally made to the house. Previously the only phone was in the parlor.

  Grabbing the receiver, she heard Wally say, “Skye—” Then an extremely loud buzzing sound interrupted, and she couldn’t make out a word.

  She shouted into the mouthpiece, “Hang up and call back.”

  After returning the receiver to its cradle she waited, wondering if this was one of her ghost’s latest tricks. She and Wally had just about given up trying to spend any time at Skye’s house. It seemed that whenever they started to get intimate, something would short out the power, cause the plumbing to spew like a fountain, or blow up. Secretly—she had never shared this thought with anyone—Skye thought the ghost of the previous owner was behind the mischief.

  Mrs. Griggs had taken quite an interest in Skye, and Skye was pretty sure that Mrs. Griggs didn’t want Wally around. Skye wasn’t sure if that applied to all men she might date or just Wally, since she’d been broken up with Simon before taking ownership of the possessed house.

  The phone rang again, but this time when she tried to answer it nothing happened—no voice, no buzzing, just empty air, so she hung up. When it didn’t ring again, she tried Wally’s home and cell phones, but couldn’t reach him on either.

  Grinding her teeth, Skye finally gave up and went back to dressing. It took her only a few minutes to finish. She slipped on black patent-leather sling-backs, brushed some bronzer on her face and mascara on her lashes, combed her hair into a smooth pageboy, and stuffed her jewelry into her evening bag to put on later.

  Skye looked at her watch as she descended the stairs. It was a few minutes past seven and she hadn’t heard a doorbell. Unless the teens had let Wally in before he had even rung the bell, he was late, which wasn’t at all like him.

  What could be keeping him? Perhaps if she had been able to hear him when he phoned she would know.

  CHAPTER 6

  Cream, Sugar and Butter

  Skye listened in exasperation to Wally’s message on her answering machine. “Skye, sugar, what’s wrong with your phone? I sure hope you get this. I’m really sorry, but I’ve had an emergency come up and I can’t take you to the dinner.” There was a pause and she could hear a muffled voice in the background; then Wally said, “I’ll call you tomorrow morning before you leave for the contest.” There was silence, but she could tell he hadn’t hung up; then he added, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, my cell phone’s not working. Bye.”

  “Damn!” Now what was she supposed to do? Skye wished Trixie hadn’t gone away for spring break. Come to think of it Trixie had a knack for being away when things at school imploded.

  Skye’s head felt as if it were about to fly off her shoulders. Did Wally’s emergency involve Ashley’s disappearance? Clearly he hadn’t gotten either of her earlier messages. Should she go to the police station? Should she go to the dinner? Or maybe she’d go to bed and let everyone deal with their own problems. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  Justin had sidled into the parlor without Skye noticing. “Uh, Ms. D, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to smile calmly. “Just a little frustrated.”

  Frannie edged in and stood next to Justin, taking his hand. “Are you mad because Chief Boyd broke your date?”

  “No.” Skye sank into the sofa, feeling strangely like crying. “I’m upset because I’m not sure what to do.”

  “You’ll think of something,” Frannie soothed. “Take a deep breath.”

  Skye looked at the girl and realized that Frannie had come a long way since she first met her over two years ago. Back then Frannie had been insecure and obsessed with her own problems. Now, as Skye looked into the teen’s confident and caring brown eyes, she saw the woman Frannie would become.

  “You’re right.” Skye inhaled and instantly felt a bit calmer. “Thank you.”

  “So, what are we going to do?” Justin paced in front of the settee. “If Xenia kills Ashley, the superintendent will get rid of the paper for sure.”

  Skye fought a flicker of irritation at Justin’s self-absorption, reminding herself that he was almost a year younger than his girlfriend, and had had a much harder life.

  While Frannie had a loving and supportive father, Justin had pretty much raised himself. Mr. Boward was in nearly constant pain and lived from day to day, which had caused Justin’s mother to sink further into a depression that rarely allowed her to leave the house.

  “There’s not a lot I can do until I can reach the chief,” Skye said, and stood up. “Maybe the emergency he was talking about was Ashley’s disappearance.” She turned to Frannie. “When you talked to Mrs. Yates, did you get the impression she was going to call the police?”

  “No. Probably not after I made up the story about the cheerleaders having a slumber party.”

  “Shoot. I had forgotten about that.” Skye scooped up the cordless phone and strode into the kitchen. “So she won’t be expecting Ashley until sometime tomorrow?”

  Frannie nodded.

  “Okay. First I’ll call the police station and see if Ashley or Xenia has been reported missing. I doubt Xenia’s mom will involve the cops, considering her daughter’s history, but I want to make sure.”

  Skye punched in the nonemergency number for the PD and said, “Thea? It’s Skye again. Have you heard from Wally?”

  “Isn’t he with you?” Thea’s voice rose in alarm. “You’re both supposed to be at the dinner. Your mom will be real upset if you aren’t there.”

  “I’m on my way. Wally left me a message saying he had an emergency, but I really need to talk to him.”

  “Sorry, he doesn’t have a radio with him and isn’t in a squad car. How about his cell?”

  “He said it’s not working. I guess I’ll try his house again.” Skye bit her lip, then asked, “By the way, you haven’t had any reports about a missing teenager or two, have you?”

  “No. Who’s missing?” Thea demanded.

  “Uh, I’m not sure. Oh, someone’s on my other line. Gotta go.” Skye hung up, feeling guilty. No one else was phoning. She didn’t even have call waiting.

  She turned to Justin and Frannie, who had been listening. “Well, that settles that. Mrs. Yates has not called about Ashley, which means I’ll have to tell her Frannie was lying.”

  Both teens protested, but Skye remained firm. As much as she didn’t want to risk the student paper, she knew Mrs. Yates had to know the truth. With Wally AWOL, Skye had no choice. She couldn’t ask one of the other officers to look for a girl they didn’t have an official report on and whose parents had no idea she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

  A few minutes later, after reaching Mrs. Yates and explaining Frannie’s deception, Skye held the handset away from her ear. Ashley’s mom was not taking the news well. Not that Skye had expected her to. Skye made soothing sounds as the woman ranted and raved, and threatened another lawsuit. Just before she hung up, Mrs. Yates said she was phoning the police
.

  Although Skye was relieved that at least now someone would be looking for Ashley, she still had to bite back a pithy comment or two about parents keeping control of their own children, and not expecting the school to do the parents’ jobs for them.

  The call to Mrs. Craughwell went even more poorly. She did not believe Xenia was involved and claimed her daughter was in her room as they spoke. Of course, even if Xenia was there, it didn’t mean she hadn’t kidnapped Ashley earlier and stashed her somewhere. The best Skye could do was make another phone call to the police and leave a message about Xenia’s blog entry.

  All of this took surprisingly little time. After Skye sent Justin and Frannie home, she looked at her watch and saw it was only seven forty-five. If she left right away, she could still make the dinner. There was nothing else she could do for Ashley or Xenia, and according to the schedule, cocktails were at seven and the food would be served at eight. Skye would be just in time for the soup, which might be soon enough to keep her out of hot water with May.

  “Babe, I promise, I’ll totally tell her as soon as this contest is over. She’d grease us both if she barneyed because we messed with her mind.” A low, smoky male voice drifted over the racks as Skye stepped into the center of the coatroom, an area in the back of the warehouse that had been partitioned off with two folding walls, and furnished with a dozen or so metal frames with poles suspended horizontally between them.

  Skye stood in the middle of the rows. She hadn’t realized anyone else was in the room until she heard the voice. Should she cough to indicate her presence, or should she just quietly leave? The tricky part would be moving silently among all the dangling hangers.

  Before she could decide, a distraught female voice said, “You always have some excuse. I can’t go on like this. Either you tell her about us by this Sunday, or I’ll tell her.”

  “No!” the man shouted, then took on a cajoling tone. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t want to tell you this, but I can’t bail on her. We have an ironclad prenup. She’d get everything, including custody of the baby.”

  “But what about us?”

  Skye cringed, hating to eavesdrop on these future guests of The Jerry Springer Show. She took a step backward and froze when she bumped into a rack, causing a tinny clunk.

  “Did you hear that?” he demanded.

  “Hear what?” the woman asked between sobs.

  There was a long moment of silence while Skye fought to remain quiet.

  “Guess it was nothing,” the man answered, then said, “I’d better get back to the table. We’ll dial in on all this tomorrow while the queen’s busy cooking. Her Highness will be wondering what’s taking me so long. I swear, she even times me when I take a leak.”

  A soft giggle hiccuped through the tears. “You’re so funny, Kyle.”

  Skye raised an eyebrow. So, half of the amorous couple was Cherry Alexander’s husband, Kyle. She wondered who his lover was.

  “And you’d better get back before Juanita complains to Cherry about having to do your job and hers too.”

  “I didn’t leave the baby with Juanita.”

  Ah, the nanny. How clichéd. Skye shook her head. Did every rich father sleep with his child’s nanny?

  “What?” Suddenly the male voice was no longer cajoling. “Who’s watching him?”

  “He’s in the car.”

  “By himself?”

  “Yes.” The girl’s voice quavered. “He’s in his car seat asleep and the doors are locked.”

  “You skank!” All traces of Kyle’s prior charm had drained away, and his tone was now utterly harsh. “Never, ever leave my son alone again.”

  “But… but, Kyle. What about us?”

  “Just get out of here, Larissa. We’ll talk later.”

  It took Skye a moment to realize that the couple would have to come her way to get out of the coat area, and another second to figure out what do. Hoping that their own movement would be blamed for the noise, Skye wedged herself between two racks, pulling the coats in front of her as camouflage. Thank goodness she was wearing black.

  Larissa came first. She was crying too hysterically to notice if an armed Roman gladiator popped up in front of her. Kyle was close on the girl’s heels, looking straight ahead, nearly pushing the distraught nanny out of his way. Luckily for Skye he was too angry to care who might be around.

  Once the couple left, Skye found a hanger, hung up her coat, and smoothed her hair and dress. As she made her way into the large area that had been set with circular tables, she shook her head. She would never have guessed that surferdude Kyle would turn into Romeo Kyle, then morph into protective-father Kyle. That scene had sure been an eyeopener.

  The tables were packed, and servers were scurrying around delivering bowls of steaming soup, bringing baskets of fragrant bread, and filling glasses with wine. Skye’s stomach growled. She hadn’t had anything to eat since a BLT six hours ago.

  She scanned the chairs, looking for her mother and dad, but couldn’t spot them. Finally, one of the servers asked, “Can I help you find your table, ma’am?”

  “Are there assigned seats?” Skye was a little surprised, wondering how Grandma Sal’s staff had decided who sat with whom.

  “Yes, ma’am. Are you a contestant, media, judge, or Grandma Sal’s staff?”

  “Contestant.”

  “The contestants are seated two to a table with their guests and their runners and their runners’ guests.” The young man pointed to a group of twelve tables in the front of the room. “Starting from the right side, the places are arranged alphabetically.”

  “Thank you.” Skye nodded at the server and walked toward the area he indicated.

  She found her place at the third table. Her mother and father sat with the middle school Home Ec teacher, whom Skye was acquainted with, and a man Skye assumed was the teacher’s husband. On the other side of her parents were two empty seats, and next to the vacant chairs were Bunny and her son, Simon.

  Skye paused only a second before turning to leave, but it was a second too long. May saw her before she moved.

  As Skye searched her mind for options, she saw her mom stand up, wave her arms, and yell, “Over here!”

  What in the world had Vince done to their mother’s hair? All the natural curl had been gelled out, and it was plastered to her scalp like a rubber Halloween wig. May looked as if a vat of cooking oil had been poured over her head and left to congeal.

  “Why are you so late?” May demanded as Skye slipped into her chair. “You certainly don’t look as if you spent the extra time primping.”

  “Thank you, Mom. You look nice, too.” Skye fought to keep the sarcasm out of her voice and to prevent her gaze from drifting to her mother’s new ‘do. “I’m not late. I just had a rescheduled arrival time.”

  “You sound like those teenagers you spend too much time with.” May’s tone was disapproving.

  “Hi, everyone.” Skye ignored her mother. “Sorry I wasn’t here on time.”

  The others said hello and murmured that her tardiness wasn’t a problem.

  “I was worried something had happened.” May reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her daughter’s ear. “What kept you?”

  Skye had taken the empty chair nearest her mother, as her other choice was the vacant seat next to Simon. Now she wondered if she had really chosen the lesser of two evils. “A situation with the school newspaper came up, and it took me a little longer to deal with it than I estimated.”

  “What situation?” May narrowed her eyes.

  “Oh, nothing I couldn’t refer to someone else.”

  The others had remained silent through the exchange, but as May paused in her interrogation and Skye sipped a spoonful of soup, Bunny piped up, “Where’s your date, Skye?”

  Skye closed her eyes and counted to ten. “He had an emergency and had to cancel.” Sitting at a table with both Bunny and May was almost like having two mothers to irritate her. It was odd how different the women were, but th
ey could certainly both drive her crazy. Of course, considering how this day was going, all it would take was a short putt.

  May dabbed her lips with her napkin. “He seems to have a lot of emergencies popping up lately.”

  “He is the chief of police.” Skye counted to twenty. At this rate she’d be up to hundred before the entrée was served. “He’s bound to be occasionally called away.”

  As usual, Skye’s father, Jed, was silent while the women talked, and the other two tablemates appeared determined to appear as if they hadn’t heard a word of the discussion.

  Skye saw Simon open his mouth, but then close it without speaking.

  They all finished their soup, and the server replaced their bowls with salads. May lowered her voice and asked in a hopeful tone, “Are you and Wally breaking up?”

  “Not that I know of. Have you heard something?” Skye matched her mother’s low volume. “Or is this just wishful thinking on your part?”

  “You rush in here an hour late, disheveled and dateless. It’s not much of a stretch.”

  “Everything’s fine between us,” Skye assured her mother, but wondered herself what was going on. Determined to change the subject, she raised her voice and asked the middle school Home EC teacher, “Barb, what made you decide to volunteer to be a runner?”

  “When I didn’t final in the contest, I thought maybe seeing the whole process up close and personal would give me a hint about what to enter next year.” The stylish brunette leaned forward. “How about you, Bunny? Are you looking for ideas for next year’s contest, too?”

  “No. I’m not very good in the kitchen.” The redhead jerked up her strapless aqua minidress, fluffed her curls, and fluttered her lashes at the teacher’s husband. She giggled. “I’m better at keeping the bedroom sizzling. After all, I’m still a hot babe. But now it comes in flashes.”