Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry

by Denise Swanson

  How in the world had both Simon and Kathryn Steele, the owner of the Scumble River Star, ended up at the same table as May and Jed? Simon was clearly escorting his mother, whom May loathed, which should have guaranteed they wouldn’t choose to sit together.

  And Kathy really had no connection with Skye’s family, unless … Could Vince have asked her out? He was supposed to be dating Loretta Steiner, Skye’s sorority sister. If he was cheating on her, Skye would have to kill him, but if she never found out, she wouldn’t have to do anything. Thus it would be better to sit at another table. But she hesitated a second too long before attempting her escape.

  Her mother shot her a stern look and said, “Where did you go? We’ve been saving you a seat, but we’re almost ready for dessert.”

  Skye gave in and sank into the empty chair between her brother and Uncle Charlie. No matter what she did, this conversation would not be pretty.

  May pursued an answer to her question. “We saw you come in and then you disappeared. What’s going on?”

  “I bought a soda at the bar while I waited for the line to go down.”

  “Iced tea and coffee are free.” Skye’s father spoke between bites.

  Before Skye could respond, Bunny, seated on Uncle Charlie’s opposite side, said, “But, Jed, when you were fixing up my car you said you get what you pay for. So, if something’s free, wouldn’t that mean you get nothing?”

  May glared at Bunny, then turned her laser stare on her husband. She hated any reference to the time Jed had spent in the redhead’s company, still believing in her heart of hearts that the two had had an affair.

  Next to Bunny her son, clearly wanting to stop his mother from continuing on the sore subject, said, “So, Skye, did your contest entry turn out well?”

  Skye was grateful for the chance to divert her mother’s attention. “Better than any of my practice ones. I doubt I’ll win, but at least I didn’t embarrass myself.” She remembered Bunny’s wish that Simon know she had been a help, and added, “Your mom saved my last dish.”

  “That’s great.” Simon smiled at his mother, then beamed approval at Skye. “That’s really nice of you to share the credit. I know cooking has never been your forte, so you must have worked extremely hard. But then, I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  Skye basked in his admiration. There was something different about him tonight. Except for Friday night’s dinner, she hadn’t talked to him since the fight they’d had at a diner Thanksgiving weekend, and at that time his harsh words had caused her to finalize their breakup. Now he seemed changed, but how?

  Before she could analyze Simon’s transformation, Vince said, “You are way too nice, Simon. Skye at a cooking contest is like the pope at a bar mitzvah. Both have heard of the concept, but neither really wants to be involved in the ceremony.”

  Kathy Steele leaned around Vince and added, “Didn’t I hear that Skye set off the sprinklers over her cooking area?”

  Skye worried briefly that that would be the headline on this week’s Star, but Kathy’s next words replaced that concern with a worse one. “Of course, a little water is nothing compared to Earl Doozier trying to bribe people for their voting points, then claiming Skye gave him the idea.”

  Shit! She should have realized the media would pick up on that—at least the local paper. Too bad she couldn’t tell Kathy anything about the murder investigation or the missing teen. That might at least move the Doozier story from the front page to the inside, and with any luck the article about the sprinklers would get cut completely to make room for the school cafeteria menu.

  May must have been thinking along the same lines, but had no compunction about trading info about the murder or the kidnapping to get what she wanted. “Kathy, I’m surprised you’re interested in the fantasies of a fool like Earl when there’s been a murder committed and a teenager is still missing.”

  Kathy laughed. “Don’t worry, May; those two crimes are my headline for tomorrow’s special edition. But there will be plenty of room in Wednesday’s regular newspaper for Skye’s sprinklers and the Doozier debacle.”

  Skye hissed in her brother’s ear, “Stop her from running that story.”

  Vince whispered back, “Me? How?”

  “Since you’re dating her, figure out a way.”

  “What are you talking about?” Vince looked confused. “I’m not dating Kathy. You know I’m going with Loretta.”

  “Then why is she sitting at our table?”

  “How should I know?” He shrugged. “She came in with Simon, Bunny, and Charlie. Maybe she’s Charlie’s date, or Simon’s.”

  Skye flinched. Simon was an attractive, intelligent man. May had warned her that he wouldn’t have any trouble finding a new girlfriend.

  She swallowed hard. It really wasn’t any of her business. She certainly wasn’t jealous. She was happy with Wally. She just wanted Simon to find someone wonderful. True, Kathy Steele was beautiful and smart, but she was too cold, too aloof. Simon needed a woman who would love him with all her heart, not just be with him for his money and position. Just as Skye had once tried to explain to him, he needed a soul mate.

  Before Skye could continue fretting about Kathy’s presence, Charlie said, “I’m surprised you’re going to the expense of a special edition tomorrow. Everyone already knows about the murder and the kidnapping. They aren’t exactly a scoop.”

  “Maybe.” Kathy’s eyes glowed. “But I have an exclusive interview with the girl who supposedly abducted the missing teenager. Her story is definitely breaking news, and not even the Chicago Tribune has that.”

  Xenia! Skye’s heart skipped a beat. Why hadn’t she thought to talk to Xenia herself? The only reason Skye could come up with was that the girl frustrated her. She did not respond to any of Skye’s clinical training, and Xenia’s superior IQ put the adults around her at a disadvantage.

  Skye hated being made to feel stupid by a sixteen-year-old, which was why she avoided the teen. Had Skye’s ego made her miss a chance to rescue Ashley? If Ashley had been harmed because Skye had been protecting her own self-esteem, she would never forgive herself.

  CHAPTER 17

  Bake for Twenty-five Minutes

  “And then Kathy Steele said she had an exclusive interview with Xenia, and I realized how stupid I’d been in not talking to the girl myself.”

  Skye sat with her back against the armrest of the sofa. She and Wally were in his living room, and she had been giving him a rundown of her day.

  Wally lifted her feet onto his lap and began to massage her toes. “Quirk talked to Xenia, but she denied everything. He said she was a tough nut, and it would take more than a visit from a police officer to crack her.”

  “Yeah, she’s had too much experience with cops to be intimidated by them.” Skye closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation that Wally’s fingers were producing. She’d been on her feet for nearly eleven hours and his massage was heavenly. “But I could take a different tack, try to convince her I’m on her side.”

  “Would Xenia go for that?” He moved on to Skye’s arch and she sighed in pleasure. “Didn’t you say she doesn’t trust you, and you haven’t been able to establish a good relationship with her?”

  “True. But I could try again. Maybe approach it as being good for the student newspaper.” Skye opened her eyelids a crack. “For some reason she’s really fierce in defending the Scoop.“

  “I don’t think you ever told me what Xenia wrote that made Ashley’s parents so upset that they decided to sue.”

  “I can’t believe she hacked into our files and inserted her story just before we sent it to the printers. Of course, it wasn’t too difficult; all she needed was our password, which we foolishly kept in the desk drawer. We’re not used to the kids doing stuff like that.” Skye added, half to herself, “Or maybe we just never caught on before.”

  “But what did she write?”

  “Oh, she claimed that Ashley was having sex with the basketball team in their
locker room the night they won the championship.”

  “Yep. That would stir up her parents, all right.” Wally switched feet and started rubbing her left one. “I’m guessing the school is threatening to have the boys testify if the parents don’t drop the suit.”

  “Right. Unfortunately, the parents don’t believe the boys. They say that they’re being coerced by the school to lie about Ashley.”

  “So, they’re going ahead with the lawsuit?”

  “Uh-huh. I think the only way they’d ever be convinced is if there were pictures.” Skye paused. A memory nibbled at the edge of her consciousness. What was it? She concentrated. No. It was gone, but another recollection popped into her head. “Oh, I just remembered something that happened the morning the contest started. When we were finally dismissed from the stage, everyone had to go to the bathroom, so I headed for the teachers’ restroom, figuring no one else would think of using that one. I had just gotten down to business when I heard two people talking in the lounge next door. Someone was berating someone else about not getting complete info on one of the finalists.”

  “Could you tell who they were?” Wally finished with her feet and moved on to her calves.

  “No, not even their gender, although I’m pretty sure one was a woman. Oh, wait, the second voice said the woman had paid him to get her into the finals, so I guess that person would have to be on the Grandma Sal’s staff. If I had known there would be a murder, I would have tried harder to find out.” Skye’s expression was sober. “Anyway, I’ve told you everything I learned today. What about you?”

  “I never did find my dad. From what you said, I guess I should have checked the bars, but he’s not usually a big drinker.” Wally’s brow wrinkled. “Other than that, I spent the whole time interviewing the contest people. I’ve got the entire force either doing background checks or looking for Ashley.”

  “Anything on either front?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Skye tsked, then asked, “What did Cherry’s husband have to say? I bet he was surprised to see you.”

  “He wanted to slam the door in my face, but he knew that was the wrong thing to do, so he let me in and tried to make me believe that he didn’t know a thing.”

  “Don’t they all?”

  “Yeah.” Wally leaned forward and picked up his can of beer. “He claims he has no idea who would want to kill Cherry—she had no enemies, and he stayed home when she went to the factory that morning. She went early to check and make sure everything was perfect.”

  “Did he claim the housekeeper could alibi him?”

  “He said she was there, but they weren’t in the same part of the house.”

  “What about the prenup?” Skye took a sip of her wine.

  “He says there is no prenup. Told me to check with his lawyer if I didn’t believe him.”

  “Hmm. Why would he lie to his girlfriend about having one?”

  “Because he really didn’t want a divorce.” Wally’s grin was devilish.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because he told me. Hunter enjoyed his life as Mr. Cherry Alexander. He didn’t have to work; she made enough money for both of them. And she bought him anything he wanted—a motorcycle, a boat, trips to Hawaii to surf.”

  Skye nodded thoughtfully. “And he really does love his son.”

  “Right. The prenup line is something he brings out when the current girlfriend gets too serious.”

  “He used it to get rid of them.” Skye finally understood.

  “He liked them to break up with him, but if that didn’t work he pretended to be noble and said he couldn’t keep seeing them, knowing he’d never be able to get free of his marriage.” Wally finished his beer and got up to throw away the can. “This time, though, the nanny endangered his child, so the breakup wasn’t amicable.”

  “Did Cherry ever hire a PI?”

  “Yes. Hunter gave me the name, and I was able to get hold of the investigator just before you got here. The PI said that Cherry did have him investigate the judges. He found something on all of them. The food editor is being treated for bulimia, the cookbook author was once accused of plagiarizing a recipe, and the radio restaurant critic is under suspicion for taking kickbacks to write good reviews. I’ll be talking to each of them again tomorrow, but none of what Cherry had on them seems enough to kill for.”

  “Especially since it would all be public knowledge if anyone really wanted to dig around for it.” Skye tilted her head, thinking. “Did you ask who Cherry’s next book was going to be about?”

  “Hunter said she never told anyone except her investigator, and he said she hadn’t selected a new subject yet.”

  “Shoot.” Skye frowned. “I bet Kyle isn’t left-handed either.”

  “Nope.” Wally’s voice was flat. “But we found out a lot of people are. Heck, even my father is a lefty.”

  “So Kyle’s no longer a good suspect, is he?”

  “Not if what he said checks out with his attorney. There was no life insurance or savings, and everything was mortgaged to the hilt. They lived beyond Cherry’s real means. Her royalties go to the kid’s trust, so Hunter will have to go to work to survive. He’ll learn real soon that it’s not so easy to play the clown when you have to run the circus.”

  “I bet he finds himself another sugar mama.” Skye got up and joined Wally in the kitchen. “Who’s our lead suspect now? The nanny? Maybe she thought if Cherry were dead and he didn’t have the prenup to stop him, Hunter would marry her.”

  “I doubt it. According to Hunter, he fired her before Cherry was killed. If the nanny did it, it was revenge, not love.” Wally leaned a hip against the counter. “I’ve got Quirk looking for her. Hunter claimed he has no idea where she would go.”

  “Which means we’re back to square one.” Skye rinsed out her wineglass and put it on the drainer. “What’s the plan?”

  “Tomorrow we reinterview all the contestants and contest people who don’t have alibis.” Wally stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “If the murder’s not personal, maybe it’s professional. Who had the most to gain with Cherry out of the picture?”

  “Good question.” Skye found it hard to think with his warm breath fanning the sensitive spot below her ear.

  Wally’s nuzzling was interrupted by his yawn. “Sorry,” he murmured.

  “I’ll bet you’re exhausted. Thea said you were at the PD by six this morning and never took a break.” Skye turned to face him, tracing a fingertip across his lip. “I should go home and let you get some rest.”

  Slowly and seductively his gaze slid downward. “I think I’m getting my second wind.”

  Her heart jolted and her pulse pounded. His appeal was undeniable. His hands burrowed under her sweater and locked against her spine. Skye inhaled sharply at the contact, a shiver rippling through her.

  He whispered into her neck, “You’re driving me crazy. I can’t concentrate. I think about you all the time.

  She had thought that once they had made love the first time her craving for him would lessen, but it seemed to grow each time they were together. She buried her hands in his hair and lifted his head, staring into his dark eyes.

  It had taken them years to get to this point, and somewhere in the back of her mind she was always afraid that she would lose him. His father’s unexpected and unexplained presence intensified those fears and paralyzed her tongue. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, but the words refused to come.

  Wally gazed at her, waiting for her to respond. After a moment his broad shoulders heaved as he sighed.

  She knew she had hurt him, and gathered him close, trying to show him how she felt with her kiss.

  His lips devoured her and the room spun.

  Skye didn’t notice that they had moved into his bedroom until she felt the mattress press against the back of her knees. Gently he eased her down on the comforter, sliding her sweater off over her head, then stood to discard his own clothes
.

  She watched as his powerful, well-muscled body emerged, and when he lay down and gathered her in his arms, all her doubts and fears drained away.

  Skye pressed the accelerator to the floor, increasing the Bel Air’s speed until it almost seemed to skim the ground. She had fallen asleep at Wally’s and hadn’t woken up until his alarm clicked on at seven thirty. Which would have allowed plenty of time to get home, shower, dress, and still be at the awards ceremony on time if he hadn’t persuaded her to stay for an encore of the night before.

  Now she had less than an hour to get herself together and arrive at the school auditorium by ten. Gravel flew from under her tires as she turned into her driveway, and her brakes squealed as she slammed her foot on the pedal to avoid rearending the Ford Escort parked in front of her house.

  Who did she know who drove an Escort? Certainly no one in her family; they all drove either pickups or cars the size of parade floats.

  As she ran down a mental list of names, a tall, good-looking man in his early sixties emerged from the driver’s-side door. He wore crisp khakis and a black polo shirt with a little alligator embroidered on the pocket. His head was shaved and his eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

  Shoot. What was Wally’s father doing at her house at nine o’clock on a Monday morning? No possible answer she could come up with suggested he was the bearer of good news.

  Skye considered throwing her car into reverse and getting the heck out of Dodge, but she had a feeling he would follow her—possibly to the ends of the earth. He had that look, like a pit bull that had chomped down on a hand and wasn’t letting go until he had reached the bone.

  Dang. She did not want to meet Wally’s dad for the first time dressed in yesterday’s clothes, with no makeup on, her hair skinned back into a ponytail, and smelling of … well, a lot of things, none of them a morning shower. Could this be any more awkward?

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. Nope, nothing she could do about her appearance. She had approximately five seconds before he reached her car. She clawed through her purse, closing her hand on a small glass vial—a bottle of Chanel. She whipped it out and sprayed. The spicy scent gave her the self-confidence to face what was coming; even if she looked like the Bride of Frankenstein, at least she smelled like Miss America.