As soon as they were out of the office and the door was shut, Wally said, “Rex Taylor is hiding something.”
“Exactly,” Skye agreed. “And not just his charms.”
“What’s up?” Wally walked her to the far end of the hall.
Skye explained what Rod had told her, then reminded Wally of what Kallista had said to Flint about Rex’s temper and diverting her husband’s suspicions toward a member of the band. She concluded with, “So I wonder if somehow Rex is behind all of this. He still doesn’t have an alibi.”
“Even though Taylor’s DNA wasn’t the one found inside Suzette, I agree something doesn’t smell right about James as the murderer. I suppose he could have been two-timing Kallista and killed Suzette to keep her quiet. Still, the whole thing feels wrong.” Wally shook his head. “But we don’t have anything on Taylor beyond a rumor of a bad temper and the fact that he flirts with women. Any ideas?”
“Divide and conquer.” Skye leaned forward and said quietly, “Let me take Kallista and make sure she gets to talk to Flint. I think she knows more than she’s saying.”
“Okay.” Wally nodded. “We might as well give it a try. But remember spousal privilege. She can’t tell you anything her husband said to her in confidence.”
“But if she overheard something or saw something, that’s fair game, right?”
“Right.” He walked back to his office and opened the door. “Mrs. Taylor, could I see you for a moment?”
Once Kallista was in the hallway, Wally turned her over to Skye and then returned to Rex.
Skye took the other woman’s arm and said in a sympathetic voice, “I thought you might want a chance to talk to Mr. James alone.”
Kallista hesitated. Her expression held both suspicion and longing. Longing won, and she said, “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”
“You’re very welcome.” Skye led her down the steps, unlocked the interrogation room door, and ushered the blonde inside. “I can only give you a few minutes.” Skye adjusted the blinds so that it appeared no one could see in through the interior window, then exited, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Skye stepped to the side, angling her body so she could both peer through the opening in the blinds and hear through the door.
Kallista wasted no time berating Flint. “How could you sleep with that skanky whore?”
“I didn’t!” Flint protested, trying to embrace Kallista. “Think about it for a minute. We were together that afternoon from two o’clock to nearly four thirty.”
“Oh, yeah.” Kallista giggled. “How could I have forgotten that? First we did it in the RV, then around three or so we went and got some food from Mickey D’s and brought it to your cabin at the motor court.”
“Exactly.” Flint took Kallista in his arms. “Remember how cute you looked with the pickle slice bra and hamburger bun bikini?”
Ew! Skye suppressed a groan.
“So how come they said your baby makers were inside that slut?” Kallista demanded.
“I have no idea.” Flint kissed her. “The only thing my love juice has been inside lately is a rubber.”
An idea skittered through Skye’s mind, but she needed to think about it. Was what she was considering even possible ?
“So you’ll tell the cops we were together?” Flint asked, nibbling Kallista’s neck.
“I guess I have to.” Kallista hugged him.
“Are you afraid of Rex?”
“I don’t think so.”
Skye could see the calculating look on the woman’s face even though Flint couldn’t.
“I’m sorry you won’t be able to get as much of his money as we originally thought.” Flint wrinkled his brow.
“Oh.” Kallista’s expression conveyed satisfaction. “I think I’ll do all right.”
After another minute or so, Skye stepped back into the interrogation room. “Sorry, guys. We need to wrap this up.”
While Skye escorted Kallista back to Wally’s office, she asked the other woman, “Did Flint flush the condom he used last Monday afternoon at the RV?”
“You eavesdropped on us?” Kallista’s tone was outraged. “That’s not fair!”
“I don’t enjoy intruding in your personal life,” Skye said, hoping to soothe the other woman’s indignation. She was used to teenagers who thought everything done to them was unfair. “But this is important. You want Flint to go free, don’t you?”
“Yes, but when I say he was with me, that will do it.”
“Not with the DNA evidence hanging over his head,” Skye reminded her. “So, about that condom?”
Kallista was silent, a pout marring her beautiful face.
“I’m ready to help,” Skye said. “Are you ready to be smart?”
“He didn’t flush it,” Kallista muttered. “The plumbing in the Airstream can’t take stuff like that. He usually just wraps them in toilet paper and tosses them in the trash.”
“Does Rex know how to drive a steamroller?”
“Uh-huh.” Kallista nodded. “He worked construction during the summers when he was in college.”
“I wonder why the police didn’t find that out when they did the background check.”
“He was paid off the books.”
“Oh. Okay.” Skye stopped halfway up the stairs. “Wait. One more question. What do you have on your husband? Why will you still get money from him even after admitting your affair with Flint?”
“That’s two questions.”
“Look, I can help Flint or not.” Skye raised an eyebrow. “Your call.”
“Fine.” Kallista tossed back her hair. “Last Monday afternoon, when I got back to the RV, I noticed the bathroom was a mess, with garbage from the wastebasket scattered all over the floor.”
“And?”
“And I was cleaning it up when Rex got home. He didn’t realize I was there because the bathroom door was shut nearly all the way, but I saw him change clothes from the skin out and bundle what he’d been wearing in a paper grocery sack—we like to recycle, so we don’t use the plastic ones.” Kallista twisted her glossy lips into a thoughtful frown. “Him putting his clothes in the bag seemed weird to me, so I followed him, and I saw him toss the sack into the Dumpster by the bandstand.”
“Damn!” Skye swore. “I bet that trash was picked up already and the bag is long gone.”
“Nope.” Kallista’s smile was triumphant. “I took it out after he left and hid it in the trunk of my car for safe keeping.”
“That was smart.” Skye guessed that Kallista’s motive was leverage when she sued for divorce. The blonde probably figured she’d get more from Rex through blackmail than if she did the right thing and turned the evidence over to the police. And she’d made no secret of her hatred for Suzette, so she wouldn’t care if Suzette’s killer was ever brought to justice.
“I only pretend to be dumb so guys will like me,” Kallista confided.
Skye cringed at the idea that women still thought they had to hide their intelligence to be popular with men, but she didn’t comment. Instead she asked, “Did you look inside the bag?”
“Yep. His clothes were covered in blood.”
After requesting that the dispatcher keep an eye on Kallista, Skye asked Wally to step out of his office and filled him in on what Kallista had revealed.
“Didn’t she realize she could be arrested if she withheld evidence in a murder investigation?” Wally fumed.
“I don’t think it even occurred to her.” Skye shrugged. “Is Kallista in trouble?”
“No.” Wally sighed. “If she testifies against Taylor, she won’t be charged.”
“Anyway,” Skye said, “I think after Rex killed Suzette, but before he ran the steamroller over her, he went back to the RV, retrieved the used condom from the trash can, and somehow inserted the semen into Suzette.”
“And he did that because he didn’t know it was Flint’s semen.” Understanding dawned in Wally’s eyes. “He would never have implicated his star attracti
on. He thought Kallista was sleeping with one of the musicians.”
“Exactly.”
“But why did he kill Suzette?” Wally asked.
“My guess is she rejected him one too many times,” Skye answered. “And remember, Rod told me that Suzette was getting worried because Rex had started to say he loved her.”
“Hmm.” Wally nodded. “I see.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Skye explained, “under everyone’s hard shell is someone who wants to be loved. Obviously, Kallista and Rex didn’t have that kind of marriage; maybe he thought he could have it with Suzette. And when she rejected not only his sexual advances, but also his love, he couldn’t stand it.”
When Wally arrested Rex an hour later, he protested long and loud, but when the paper bag full of his bloody clothes was produced, he snapped his mouth shut so hard Skye thought she heard a tooth crack.
After a moment, Rex said, “It was an accident.”
Skye shot Wally a look. Where had they heard that before?
“I was just trying to kiss her. She jerked away, tripped, and struck the back of her head on the corner of the desk. It must have hit just right, because by the time I got back with the first aid kit she was already dead.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Wally asked.
“A scandal like that would ruin me and the music theater.” Rex looked at Wally as if he were crazy. “Country music fans want wholesome entertainment.”
“So steamrolling her body was better?” Skye blurted out.
“I gambled they’d get over that faster than me killing my assistant while trying to fu—make love to her,” Rex explained. “And I figured the steamroller was the only way I could make sure that no trace of me on her body would be discovered.”
“Why go to all the trouble with the semen?” Wally asked.
“I figured it was a twofer.” Rex shrugged. “I’d seen the used rubbers in the garbage on other occasions, and I thought, what the heck, if there’s one there today, I can use the stuff inside to implicate my wife’s lover and point any interest away from me.” He glowered. “I didn’t realize my dumb bunny of a wife was getting it on with my star. I thought she was shacking up with some nobody from the band.”
“That was your fatal mistake.” Skye stared Rex in the eye. “Never underestimate a woman.”
EPILOGUE
“I Hope You Dance”
“Any idea why we’ve been summoned?” Wally asked as Skye turned her Bel Air into the crowded parking lot of an empty building near the Better Than New used-car lot and the Tales and Treats Bookstore.
“Nope.” Skye shut off the motor. “Aunt Olive asked us to come and said she’d explain when we got here.” She gazed up and down the dark street, thinking how the town would have changed if Rex Taylor had had his way.
It was a month since Rex had been arrested for the murder of Suzette Neal, and Scumble Riverites were still reeling from the news. Some of the citizens were happy that their community would remain as it was, but others mourned the loss of the music theater project and the revenue it would have generated.
With Rex in jail awaiting trial, Kallista and the rest of the Country Roads staff had left the area without a backward glance. Other than the big FOR SALE sign on the Hutton dairy property, there were no indications that Rex or his crew had ever planned to turn Scumble River into the Branson of Illinois.
Kallista had immediately begun divorce proceedings, and was back in Nashville building a mansion modeled after Tara. Rumor had it that her and Flint’s duet album was scheduled for release next summer.
Wally broke into Skye’s thoughts. “It seems out of character for Olive to take this kind of initiative.” His expression was quizzical. “In my experience, directives come from Dante, not his wife.”
“Mine, too.” Skye got out of the car. “Which is exactly why I said we’d be here. Something’s up.”
“Then let’s go see what it is.” Wally tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
The door to the building was open, and Skye and Wally walked inside. The foyer was dark, but lights and conversation to their left beckoned them.
“This is a little creepy,” Skye said, tugging on Wally’s sleeve. “Do you think Aunt Olive might still be afraid we’ll tell Dante about her affair? Is she setting a trap to get rid of us?”
“Not with a room full of witnesses.”
“Maybe the voices are recorded and the vehicles in the lot are from Hugo’s used-car dealership.”
“I’ll protect you.” Wally steered Skye toward the brightness. “We made it out of Doozierville alive—I’m sure we can handle your sixty-three-year-old aunt.”
“We barely made it out alive,” Skye reminded him. “And you weren’t the one who ended up painted as orange as an Oompa-Loompa.” She reluctantly allowed herself to be led forward.
When they turned the corner, the area they entered was one big space with polished wood floors and mirrored walls. A long table holding plates of snacks and an assortment of drinks was set off to one side. Soft music came from a CD player, and people in groups of three or four stood around talking softly.
Skye scanned the crowd, spotting her parents chatting with the Leofanti aunts and their spouses. Another cluster contained her Leofanti cousins and their families. A third group contained Trixie and Owen. Skye was relieved to see that the couple must have patched up their differences, because Owen had his arm around his wife’s waist and Trixie was smiling up at him with love shining from her eyes.
Among the nonrelatives, two guests caught Skye’s eye—Simon and Jess from the Brown Bag. The men appeared deep in conversation, and Skye wondered what Suzette’s twin was discussing so earnestly with Simon.
Her curiosity was satisfied when she overheard Jess saying, “I intend to be at Rex Taylor’s trial every day, and once he’s found guilty, I’m asking the prosecutor to let me speak before the court, during the time family members are allowed to address the judge.”
Simon murmured something Skye didn’t catch; then Jess continued, “I’m planning a trip to California and Nashville to find out more about Suzette and my biological family.”
Skye and Wally joined a group of business owners, but when the others began discussing how disappointed they were that Branson of Illinois wasn’t coming to Scumble River, Skye subtly pulled Wally away and asked, “Do you see Olive or Dante?”
“No.” Wally examined the assemblage. “That’s odd. The mayor usually makes sure he’s the center of attention.”
Skye frowned. Where were the party’s hostess and her husband?
As she opened her mouth to make another comment about her aunt’s absence, she heard a querulous male voice. “Why the hell are we here?” There was an indistinct murmur; then the same voice complained, “What’s gotten into you, woman? You’re not going through that mental pause again, are you?”
Dante waddled through the arch leading into the party room, followed closely by Olive, who was wearing a purple velvet cape that covered her from her neck to her feet. Once they appeared, everyone swarmed toward them.
Skye blinked in surprise as Olive spoke over her husband. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I guess it’s a good thing there’s not much to do in Scumble River on a Tuesday night.”
Several people chuckled and Olive continued, “I’ll explain everything in a few minutes. In the meantime, please help yourself to the refreshments.”
Dante made a grab for her arm, but Olive eluded him, walked toward a door at the rear of the room, and disappeared.
Once everyone had a beverage and a plate of munchies, conversations continued and Skye said to Wally, “So, how did it go with Darleen today?”
“About as you’d expect.” He shrugged. “She was happy her boyfriend took a plea deal so she didn’t have to testify against him, but she still claims she doesn’t need to be in rehab and begged me to change my mind.”
“But you didn’t?” Skye’s green eyes
were sympathetic.
“No.” Wally’s jaw firmed. “I told her if she didn’t complete the program, you would press charges.”
“Good.” Skye paused, then asked, “Did she give you the truthful annulment letter, or is she still threatening to write a fictional account that would hold up the process ?”
“She gave me the honest version, but only after trying to wheedle money from me for it.” Wally put an arm around Skye. “I dropped the envelope off at the church, and Father Burns said that by spring he’d be able to give us an idea of the timeline.”
“And once we get that, I can start planning our wedding.”
“What in blue blazes are you wearing?” Dante’s bellow interrupted Wally and Skye’s kiss, and she looked in the direction of her uncle’s ire. Olive had removed her cape to reveal a leotard and wrap skirt. She’d replaced her boots with ballet slippers. She pirouetted gracefully into the center of the floor and curtsied with a sweep of her arm.
After a brief hesitation, the guests applauded, although most looked bewildered.
Olive brought her hands together at chest level, then said, “Welcome to the Scumble River School of Adult Dance. I will be teaching the joy of ballet and my partner will be teaching the pleasure of modern dance. She is sorry she can’t be with us tonight, but she will be here when we open our doors January second.”
Everyone crowded around Olive, asking questions and congratulating her, but Dante roared, “Wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute! I didn’t say you could open a dance school. Of all the dadgum fool ideas of yours, this takes the cake.”
Olive’s face paled, but she straightened her spine and said, “I don’t need your permission, Dante, and this isn’t a stupid idea. None of my ideas, which you refuse to listen to, are stupid.”
Silence ensued as the guests watched the couple.
“You need my say-so to spend my money.” Dante’s face was stained with an ugly flush.
“I didn’t use your money.” She paused and took a gulp of wine from the glass someone had handed her. This moment was clearly a difficult one for her. “I used the money my mother left me.”
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