Gerald waved them to a large black leather sofa, then seated himself on the matching recliner and demanded, “What’s being done to find my wife?”
“I have two officers going door-to-door and searching the yards,” Wally said, his gaze never leaving the older man. “You mentioned that you called your friends. Does that include the neighbors?”
“We don’t socialize with the riffraff around here. Well, my wife does talk to the gal next door, but she’s in Florida for the winter.” Gerald ran his fingers over his short gray hair. “Edie wouldn’t be with any of the others.”
“Maybe someone here who she knows from a card or book club?” Skye suggested.
“She doesn’t do any of that.” Gerald scowled. “With the lady next door down south, Edie spends most of her time with me.”
“Because of her dementia?” Skye asked gently. “To keep her safe?”
“Yeah.” Gerald’s chest deflated. “She’s drifting more and more.”
“Would she have gone out on the lake?” Wally leaned forward. “And perhaps fallen in?”
“I…I don’t see how.” Gerald shook his head. “I keep my key ring hidden, but…”
Wally and Skye exchanged glances and she raised a questioning brow.
When he nodded, she asked, “But she finds them, right?”
“Not often.” Gerald’s perfect posture sagged. “But I couldn’t locate them this morning.”
Wally stiffened and Skye put her hand on his knee, then said, “Why didn’t you tell Chief Boyd that when you first reported her missing?”
“The car and boat are still here, so I didn’t think it was relevant,” Gerald protested.
“What other keys are on your ring?” Wally asked.
“The front and back door of the house, our post office box, and the shed.”
“Have you checked the shed?” Wally jumped to his feet, and when Gerald shook his head, he said, “Let’s do it now.”
Gerald retrieved a set of keys from his pocket that Skye assumed were spares, and the three of them trooped outside. She held her breath as the shed’s door opened and let it out when it was clear that Mrs. Baker wasn’t inside.
Returning to the house, Gerald said, “I’m sorry I didn’t mention the key ring.” He shrugged. “I guess I didn’t want to admit how careless I’d been.” Gerald’s expression was shamefaced. “It was a moron move. I should have protected her better.”
“You really can’t do that by yourself,” Skye murmured soothingly. “Do you have any help? Someone that gives you a break?”
“I hired a home health aide by the name of Krissy Ficher for the weekends and Edie loved her.” Gerald exhaled loudly. “But Ms. Ficher didn’t show up on Saturday or Sunday.”
“Could Mrs. Baker have gone to find Krissy?” Skye asked.
“Maybe.” Gerald twitched his shoulders. “But she wouldn’t have any idea where the woman lives. I have that data on my phone, but Edie doesn’t know the password.” He took his cell from his pocket and said, “Do you want Ms. Ficher’s address and number?”
After making a note of the health aide’s contact information, Wally commented, “You said there was no family in the area, but are there folks farther away she might try to see?”
“Her son.” Gerald shrugged. “But they aren’t on good terms.”
“Her son,” Skye repeated thoughtfully, then asked, “He’s not your child?”
“Edie was married briefly the day after she graduated from high school and Ford is from that union.” Gerald held up his hand. “Before you ask, that husband is dead and Ford lives in California.”
“I’m going to need his number,” Wally said, then asked, “Have you called him?”
“Right after I talked to you.” Gerald stared out the windows. “He said that he hadn’t heard from her and if I was smart, I’d count my blessings and just let her disappear forever.”
Chapter 3
Nobody’s Home
It took only a few minutes to establish that Gerald Baker didn’t have a clue as to where his wife might go and that it was highly likely that she’d just wandered off. Gerald claimed that she’d never done that before, and after taking a look at Mrs. Baker’s room, Skye was inclined to believe him.
The couple slept separately, but the missing woman’s room was equipped with a baby monitor as well as sleigh bells mounted above the door in such a way that they would jingle if the door was opened. There were no signs of struggle, and Gerald swore that nothing was missing except a pair of jeans, a blue sweater, a pair of white tennis shoes, and her Coach purse, which were what she’d worn the day before. She had no access to any kind of credit or debit card and had at most fifty dollars in her wallet.
After they’d examined the room, Wally radioed the two officers looking for Mrs. Baker and brought them up to date. They were about twenty-five percent through searching the Bord du Lac development and had nothing to report.
Skye checked her watch and gave her husband a significant look.
He nodded and said, “Mr. Baker, please notify me immediately if you think of anything or if your wife returns home.” He put his hand on Skye’s back and guided her toward the front door. “My officers will continue to search the community, and if they don’t find her, we’ll ask for volunteers to expand the scope.”
“Can’t we do that now?” Gerald demanded. “You should drag the lake.”
“That will be considered after all other options are exhausted, but try to stay positive.” Skye patted his hand. “I know how hard it is to have a loved one missing. The initial search will take some time to complete, so there’s still a good chance that she’ll be found safe and sound.”
Before he could form another protest, Skye and Wally said a hasty goodbye and headed to the car. Gerald was still standing on the front steps when they reached the cruiser and climbed inside.
Skye buckled up and said, “Hurry. It’s already half past twelve.”
As they headed toward town, Wally said, “Instead of picking up the SUV at the PD, I can drop you off at the school to save some time.”
“That’s a good idea.” Skye thought for a moment, then patted her tote bag. “Yep. I have everything I need in here so go ahead.”
Five minutes later, Wally pulled up to the elementary school and said, “Give me a call when you’re done and I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks, sweetie. Love you.” Skye got out of the car, waved goodbye, then ran for the entrance.
She used her key to open the door, then rushed inside and made a sharp right turn into the main office. When Skye attempted to walk past the school secretary on her way to the principal’s office, Fern looked up from her computer screen and handed Skye a pink slip of paper.
Before she could read it, the woman grabbed her arm and said, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t let you know sooner.”
“About what?” Skye examined the birdlike woman as she eased out of her grip.
Fern was always nervous, but today Skye could actually see the pulse beating on the side of her neck. Something had really discombobulated her.
“Mrs. Greer.” Fern took a ragged breath and held her hand to her mouth. “They rushed her to the hospital an hour ago. They think it’s her appendix.”
“That’s awful.” Skye’s heart sank. Caroline Greer was by far her favorite principal. Although Caroline was nurturing toward the students in her charge, Skye admired the woman’s no-nonsense attitude toward the parents and her staff. “Did they give you a prognosis?”
Fern wiped her brow with a tissue. “As long as they get her into surgery before the appendix bursts, they think she’ll be fine.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Skye blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “And I certainly understand why you couldn’t let me know while all that was going on here. I guess Piper and I are on our
own for the parent meeting.”
“You don’t understand.” Fern twisted the tissue until it started to disintegrate, then gestured to the square of paper in Skye’s hand. “What I was sorry about not letting you know is that Mrs. Greer called the superintendent to request that another administrator sit in on the meeting.”
Skye glanced at the note and saw that was exactly what Caroline had written.
“Neva?” Skye asked hopefully. Neva Llewellyn was the junior high principal. While not as skillful with parents as Caroline, she had been a high school counselor and was better than the alternative.
Fern shook her head, then looked around as if she thought someone was spying on them. Skye followed her gaze, wondering if security cameras had been installed since the last time she was there.
“Dr. Wraige?” Skye crossed her fingers. The superintendent wasn’t her favorite, but at least he had some grasp of special education laws.
“No.” Fern stared at a button on her blouse and whispered, “Mr. Knapik was the only one available. Neva is on jury duty and Dr. Wraige is at a county meeting.”
“Shi…oot!” Skye grimaced at her near slip. “That’s not good.”
Homer Knapik had been the high school principal for as long as anyone under the age of forty could remember. He treated parents as if they were annoying gnats that he’d like to slap and his behavior toward his staff was even worse. The man needed to retire.
“Mr. Knapik’s in Caroline’s office with Piper and Mrs. Quinn right now,” Fern sniffed and clutched Skye’s arm again. “He was quite rude when I told him he should wait for you to arrive before seeing the parent.”
“Son of a gun.” Skye pried the secretary’s hand from the death grip the woman had on her wrist. “I better get in there ASAP.”
“He didn’t even take the child’s file.” Fern blinked rapidly, then thrust the manila folder into Skye’s hands. “He said he didn’t care what it said. That man is beyond disgusting.”
“It’ll be fine.” Skye smiled reassuringly at Fern, then walked toward the principal’s office. Before entering, she turned and said, “Wish me luck.”
“You’ll need it,” the secretary muttered as Skye gave a brief knock on the closed door, then without waiting scooted inside.
Homer sat at Caroline’s desk eating pumpkin seeds. Skye couldn’t understand his recent obsession with the snack, and his habit of spitting the shells directly from his mouth into the trash can made her stomach turn.
Against the pastel-colored walls and delicate furniture of Caroline’s office, Homer stuck out like a Sasquatch who had wandered into the Ritz-Carlton from the wilderness. Seated in front of him were Piper and an attractive woman in her forties who Skye assumed was Mrs. Quinn. They were both watching the man eating and spitting with appalled expressions on their faces.
As soon as Piper spotted Skye, she jumped up and said, “Oh good, you’re here. Take this seat. I’ll go get another chair.” She thrust a folder into Skye’s hand and nearly ran out the door.
Piper Townsend might be twenty-five years old, but due to her petite stature and baby face, she could easily pass as a middle schooler. Homer had been treating her like a twelve-year-old since she started her internship and Skye could understand the young woman’s desire to get away. She just hoped Piper would come back since Skye was completely unprepared.
Turning to the woman she assumed was the parent, Skye held out her hand and said, “Hello. I’m Mrs. Denison-Boyd, but please call me Skye. I’m the school psychologist for the Scumble River district, but I’ve been out on maternity leave and won’t officially be back until after winter break. Can you bring me up to speed on your concern?”
“Call me Jerita.” The slender woman shook Skye’s hand. “My husband is building your new house. He thinks a lot of you and your husband. He’s really intent on having it done on schedule.”
Skye wanted to say that if that were true, then the man would show up at the job site on time. But she bit her tongue and murmured, “Oh. So you’re Beilin’s wife.” Skye smiled. “Nice to finally meet you in person. We’ve spoken on the phone a few times.”
“If you two are done with your lovefest, can we get this over with?” Homer belched. “I have to get back to my own school.”
“By all means, let’s start.” Jerita pushed a strand of chin-length dark hair behind her ear and held up her cell phone. “My attorney has advised me to record our meeting. Does anyone object?”
“Attorney?” Homer’s caterpillar-like eyebrows rose to meet his shaggy bangs.
“Yes.” Jerita glanced at the clipboard on her lap. “My husband and I have sought legal counsel. She isn’t attending today because she said that would hold things up as you would probably demand your own lawyer be present. But she did suggest an audio record.”
Skye shot Homer a silencing look and said, “That’s fine as long as you agree to the school making its own copy.” When the woman nodded, Skye took her own phone from her tote bag, activated the recording app, and put the device on the edge of the desk.
A moment later, Piper returned with a folding chair. She set it up as close to Skye as possible, looked nervously around, then sat down and began chewing on her thumbnail.
“Why don’t you begin, Jerita?” Skye nodded at the woman. “I understand Piper has shared her results with you and you have a concern.”
“In a nutshell,” Jerita said to Skye, ignoring both Homer and Piper. “I believe my daughter is gifted. Although the scores on Ms. Townsend’s assessment did not fall within the district’s parameters, I feel that those lower scores are due to Ms. Townsend’s inexperience. Thus, I am requesting an independent evaluation.”
Skye flipped opened both the student and the psych files in her lap. She noted that the girl was in kindergarten and one of the youngest in her class. She was doing well and there were no teacher concerns.
Next, she read Piper’s report. Although there were a few subtests on which the girl had done exceptionally well, the others were in the high average range. Nothing in the report suggested giftedness.
Skye thought quickly and suggested, “How about I do an additional evaluation as soon as I get back from my maternity leave and we go from there?”
She hoped that six more weeks would show Jerita that while her daughter was bright, she did not need an accelerated program. That way by the time the second assessment was completed, the woman would be ready to accept the results.
Before Jerita could answer, Homer pounded the desk so hard the pencils in the cup rattled and Skye’s phone teetered on the edge. She caught it just as it was about to fall onto the light-green carpet.
“No!” Homer pounded again, his face the color of an eggplant. “Your precious little Suzie had her chance and we’re not giving her another bite of the apple.” He narrowed his beady little eyes, which considering the contrast to the size of his enormous head looked like specks of pepper in sausage gravy. He turned his angry gaze to Skye. “Since you’ve been out on your little vacation, things that she can’t do alone”—he pointed to Piper—“have piled up.” He crossed his arms. “You aren’t wasting a day retesting a kid who’s already struck out of the game.”
“My daughter’s name is not Suzie and her future is not a waste of anyone’s time,” Jerita fumed. “I was hoping for a battle of wits, but you, my good man, are clearly unarmed.”
“Jerita, Mr. Knapik didn’t mean—” Although Skye hurried to step in, the woman ignored her.
“And since you feel that way, we can go directly to a private evaluation.” Jerita shot a smug smile at Homer. “Shall I send the bill to the school or do you run a tab somewhere?”
Skye glanced at Homer, who was now ignoring everyone as he laboriously tapped something into his cell phone. Turning to the disgruntled parent, she said, “Jerita, I’m sure you’re aware that Mrs. Greer is the elementary school principal, not
Mr. Knapik. Did Piper explain that she had a medical issue and that’s why she isn’t here?”
“Yes.” Jerita lasered Homer with a look of loathing. “I was sorry to hear she was ill, and even sorrier to be stuck trying to deal with this cretin.”
“Cretin” about described Homer, but Skye ignored that and suggested, “How about I confer with Mrs. Greer once she’s on the mend, and in the meantime, I’ll speak to our district superintendent.”
Homer looked up from the screen of his cell phone and snorted. “At her age, Caroline will be out for a month or more.”
Skye frowned. It was almost as if Homer was trying to push Jerita into an outside eval. He was usually bad with parents, but this seemed like he was deliberately provoking the woman. Why would he do that?
“I’m sure she’ll be able to talk on the phone before that,” Skye said quickly.
“And Shamus will back me up.” Homer returned his attention to whatever he was doing on the phone, probably playing solitaire. “As superintendent, he’s aware of how much your maternity leave has hurt our district.”
“He had six months to find someone to substitute for me.” Skye tapped her fingernails on the open folders in her lap. “You two came up with the scheme to hire an intern and have the co-op fill in the gaps.”
“That’s not how I remember it.” Homer shrugged, slipped his phone in his pocket, and flicked a glance at Jerita. “This meeting is over. Little Suzie”—he emphasized the wrong name—“stays where she is.”
Piper edged closer to Skye and whispered, “Mrs. Quinn will get a private eval and it’ll cost the district a fortune.” She slumped. “They’ll blame me.”
Skye caught a tiny smile hovering on Homer’s lips and scowled. Was that it? Piper had called the man on several illegal maneuvers regarding children’s rights. Was this his revenge on her for standing up for the kids? After all, the mess wasn’t in his school.
“No, they won’t.” Skye assured Piper. “I won’t allow that, which means they’ll blame me.”
Come Homicide or High Water Page 3
