Hmm. She needed to call Dorothy about the job offer, but maybe a visit would be better. May might be the head of the Scumble River rumor mill, but Dorothy was definitely her next in command.
Skye glanced at the microwave clock. Since they’d eaten such a late lunch, Wally wouldn’t want dinner until seven, so she had a couple of hours. If Dorothy were like most Scumble Riverites, she would be afraid of interrupting supper, but the woman lived alone and had confided in Skye that she rarely sat down to a meal. She preferred to graze all day.
After feeding the twins and leaving Wally a note just in case he came home early, Skye bundled the babies into their jackets, put them in the SUV, and headed out to Dorothy’s place. It would be nice to have a chance to catch up with her mom’s friend. She’d hardly seen her since the tornado and missed their chats.
Dorothy lived on one of the state routes leading into Kankakee. As Skye approached the park, she slowed. Dorothy’s house was the last one on the right before the speed limit went down to forty-five, and it was easy to miss because it sat so far back from the road.
Spotting the long narrow driveway, Skye turned into it and parked on a concrete pad off to the side beside an older model Cadillac. The Catera indicated that Dorothy was home and Skye hopped out of her Mercedes, got the base of the stroller from the rear of the SUV, then settled Eva’s car seat into the frame.
Repeating the procedure with CJ, she was wondering why she’d bothered with a coat when baby wrangling kept her toasty warm.
She made her way to a side entrance, then waved at the tall, solidly built woman in her early sixties who was waiting for them in the open doorway of the breezeway.
“Little mama. How the heck are you?” Dorothy hurried down the concrete stairs and swept Skye into a hug. “I saw the car pull in. It’s sure spiffy. Is that the new Mercedes Wally bought you?”
“That’s the one.” Skye hugged her back and stepped away. “Are we interrupting anything?”
“Not at all.” Dorothy grinned. “Come on inside. I was just thinking about you and these two cuties.” She helped Skye lift the double stroller up the steps and ushered them down a short hallway into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen them since your baby shower.”
“That was quite a party.” Skye took a seat at a glass-topped table and started the process of freeing CJ from his jacket.
“It was.” Dorothy took off Eva’s coat and said, “I had an interesting dream last night.”
“Oh?” Skye said cautiously, surprised at Dorothy’s statement. The older woman was one of the most down-to-earth people she knew. “Was it good or bad?”
“I think it was a message from your Grandma Leofanti.” Dorothy’s usual genial expression was serious. “You know I was over at your mom’s house so much as a teenager, Antonia felt like my own mother.”
“What was the dream about?” Skye trembled as a chill ran up her spine.
“I was in your new house when a monster broke in. I couldn’t find you, but the monster hit Wally over the head and put him in its car. The monster was trying to take Eva, and I was fighting it off with a butcher knife.” Dorothy shuddered. “I ended up stabbing it in the head.”
“How awful.” Skye’s chest tightened. The butcher knife to the temple sounded too much like Jerita Quinn’s murder. A detail that hadn’t been released.
“It was.” Dorothy straightened her shoulders. “I’ve been pondering the dream all day and I think I’m supposed to take care of these precious babies. You two have been so generous continuing my salary even though I’m not cleaning for you anymore that I feel like there’s some force pushing me to return the favor.”
“Actually, that’s why I stopped by.” Skye took a breath to calm her racing pulse. “How would you like to be our live-in housekeeper and nanny?”
“I’d love it. And it will work out perfectly since Tammy is looking for a place to rent. Her apartment building has gone to no pets and she certainly isn’t giving up her dog. Now she can move here and I’ll stay with you.”
“Terrific.” Skye smiled. “That suite above the garage should be just right for you. It has a private outside entrance as well as a bedroom, sitting room, and bathroom. Do you want to bring your own furniture or shall I furnish it?”
“You go ahead. Tammy’s stuff is in bad shape so I’ll leave my slightly better crap for her.”
“It sounds as if this will work out perfectly.”
“Which is a good thing.” Dorothy shivered. “Because I don’t think I have a choice.”
Chapter 11
Pictures of Home
Wally’s Hummer was parked in the driveway when Skye got home. From the sound of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” pouring out of the RV’s open front windows, Skye deduced that her husband was working out.
After getting the twins from their car seats, she climbed the steps and found him lying flat on the weight bench he kept stored in the shed outside. He was wearing low-riding nylon shorts and not much else.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Skye observed his chest and shoulder muscles flexing as he repeatedly lifted a barbell with a hundred-pound plate attached to each end. She admired the way the silver at his temples emphasized the midnight blackness of the rest of his hair and how his smooth olive skin stretched over his high cheekbones.
Wally was such a handsome man that when her insecurities surfaced she wondered why he was with her. Happily, those times were occurring less and less, and she was able to push aside her self-doubt faster and faster.
When he sat up, wiped his face with a towel, and grabbed a Dasani from the floor, Skye watched the strong column of his throat as he swallowed nearly half the water in one swig. Then chugged the rest before putting down the plastic bottle.
He got to his feet, closed the window, and turned the heat back on, then came toward her and fingered the fabric of her jacket. “Where’d you get the new coat?”
“Mom bought it for me for Christmas.”
“That was lucky.” Wally kissed her cheek. “How was your visit with her?”
“Good.” Skye’s grin was bemused. “She and your father are two of a kind.”
“Oh?” Wally took CJ from Skye and nuzzled his son’s head. “In what way?”
“They both have their fingers on the pulse of Scumble River.” With only one baby in her arms, Skye could take off her jacket and hang it in the tiny foyer closet. “I don’t know if you realize it or not, but that’s a pretty amazing accomplishment for a newcomer like your father. It usually takes years to fit in.”
“I can’t see Dad as a gossip.” Wally tested CJ’s diaper and headed into the bedroom.
“Not exactly.” Skye followed with Eva. It had been a couple of hours so both babies would probably need a change. “But he does seem to be the center of a lot of information. For instance, did you know he was the one who hooked Loretta up with Jerita Quinn?”
“No.” Wally finished with CJ and watched Skye redress Eva. “Anything else?”
“He joked with me that he’s become the town employment agency.”
Skye examined the twins. They seemed drowsy so she settled them into their bassinets.
“Seriously?” Wally raised an eyebrow. “How would he do that?”
“It appears that people tell him about needing a job and he steers them toward folks who are hiring.” Skye went into the adjoining bathroom and washed her hands. “Are you ready to eat dinner?”
“I’d like to clean up the living room and then grab a shower.” He shot her a seductive gaze. “Would you like to join me?”
“I’ll take a rain check until we have our big walk-in at the new house.” Skye giggled. “This one’s so small that I don’t think we’d both fit into it.”
“Trying is half the fun.”
“Yeah. Unless we get stuck and have to be rescued by the fire department. Then someone
snaps a picture and posts it on Open Book.”
“You win.” Wally raised his hands in surrender.
“Of course I do.” Skye smirked, then offered, “How about while you wash, I make some cheesy biscuits to go with the stew?”
“You know I’ll never say no to cheesy biscuits.” Wally grinned at her, then strolled into the living room and picked up the water bottle and dirty towel. Once he’d deposited the bottle in the recycle bin and put the towel in the hamper, he began to dismantle the weights and bench.
Skye watched him haul the equipment out the front door, then went into the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients for the biscuits.
When Wally returned from outside, he paused by the counter and asked, “Did you get a chance to talk to Dorothy?”
“Yes.” Skye waved him away. “Go shower.” She hated eating so late and it was already past seven. “I’ll tell you all about it while we have supper.”
By the time Wally came back into the kitchen dressed in navy sweats, a Scumble River Police Department T-shirt, and flip-flops, Skye had their salads on the table and the biscuits were baking in the oven. He poured a can of Caffeine-Free Diet Coke over ice for Skye, uncapped a Sam Adams for himself, and took a seat.
Once Skye was in her chair, Wally picked up his fork, but paused as he lifted it to his mouth. “So what did Dorothy have to say?”
As they ate, Skye summarized her visit, then asked, “What do you think of her dream?”
“It’s interesting that the knife in the monster’s head matches Jerita’s murder,” Wally said cautiously. “We didn’t release that information, and besides the authorities, only Earl saw it.”
“I’m pretty darn sure Earl did not stop by to discuss the murder with Dorothy before he went into hiding.”
Skye got to her feet, took the biscuits from the oven, put them in a basket, and placed them on the table along with the bowl of stew.
“So that leaves us with coincidence.” Wally stood and grabbed bowls from the cupboard. “And I really hate coincidences. Too bad between the murder and the missing woman we are just full of them.”
“Yep.” Skye passed the biscuits to Wally, then said cautiously, “I know you don’t believe in stuff that can’t be proved, but I do wonder if Dorothy’s dream isn’t some kind of warning.”
“After the whole Mrs. Griggs/Fairy Godmother thing”—Wally took a drink of beer—“I’m willing to be a little more open-minded.”
Skye had inherited a house from Mrs. Griggs, whose spirit had haunted Skye from the time she’d moved into the place until her wedding night—a fact that Wally had previously always denied, despite fires, explosions, and burst water pipes whenever they’d tried to get intimate before their marriage.
Once Skye and Wally returned from their honeymoon, the old woman’s ghost had only made a few subtle appearances, leaving them rose petals and baby gifts. Then, after the house had been destroyed by the tornado, Skye had wondered what would happen to the spirit.
A month ago, a woman claiming to be a fairy godmother had passed on a message from Mrs. Griggs. There had been enough unexplainable facts that even Wally had had a hard time dismissing it.
“Good.” Skye smiled. “Then I hope that by having Dorothy move in we’ll be okay.”
“When can she start with the kids?” Wally took a huge bite of stew.
“Thank goodness she’s free tomorrow and agreed to come over for a practice run while I attend that meeting at school.” Skye broke open a biscuit. “Otherwise I was down to Uncle Charlie or Bunny.”
Wally choked on his food, then sputtered, “Not Bunny. Ever!”
“Everyone else is working. Your father’s gone. And Mom’s busy with April.”
“Well, if it happens that there are ever no other options, you choose Charlie.” Wally scowled. “Never Bunny.”
“Seriously?” She couldn’t hold back a snicker at the thought of her cigar-smoking, whiskey-drinking godfather trying to handle the twins.
“Yes. Better him than that unreliable woman.” Before Wally went back to his supper, he asked, “Did your mom have anything else to say that might help with Jerita’s murder investigation?”
“There was something.” Skye tapped her spoon against her bowl.
“About Jerita? Or Beilin? Or?” Wally asked, continuing to eat.
“Let me think,” Skye said, waving away his impatience while she flipped through her mental notes. Finding the right one, she exclaimed, “I know! Mom told me she’d heard that Beilin and Jerita moved here because they didn’t want Jenna attending Chicago schools. And when I mentioned that to your father, he said he didn’t think it was the quality of the education that drove the couple to avoid CPS.”
“I’ll bring that up to Beilin when I re-interview him.” Wally was quiet as they finished their meal, but when they were doing the dishes he said, “I’ve been thinking that we really need to talk to Loretta. Along with everything else, she might know why Jerita didn’t want Jenna to go to school in Chicago.”
“So?”
“So tomorrow, we need to go see the newest addition to the family.” Wally rinsed off the suds from the slow cooker, then handed it to Skye to dry. “And have a nice long chat with his mommy about her employee.”
“Loretta will probably be home by late afternoon,” Skye said thoughtfully. “I don’t have a baby gift yet, but we could bring over supper for them.”
“Let’s plan on it.” Wally hung the wet dishcloth over the faucet.
For the rest of the evening Skye and Wally managed to focus on their own lives—the new house, the babies, and the upcoming holiday—but as they were getting ready for bed, Skye said, “Before I see Trixie tomorrow, I need to know what information you’re releasing to the public and what you’re keeping back about the murder.”
Trixie Frayne was the high school librarian and Skye’s best friend. She’d finally finished the mystery that she’d been writing for what seemed like forever and she’d recently begun querying agents. Now she was on the lookout for her next plot.
Trixie was particularly fascinated by Skye’s involvement in real-life cases. She was persistent and clever and often had better sources than the police when it came to investigating Scumble River crimes.
“Can’t you dodge her?” Wally asked. “She won’t be at the PPS meeting, right?”
“Probably not.” Skye finished washing her face and applied moisturizer. “But she knows that I’ll be at the school and she’d be hurt if I didn’t stop by the library to say hi and catch up a little.”
“Well, make sure you avoid telling her about the knife in the temple,” Wally mumbled around his toothbrush, then after rinsing his mouth said, “As long as you have to talk to her, see if she’s heard anything about the missing woman or Jerita.”
“Will do, Chief.” Skye watched Wally strip off his shirt and sweats, then crawl into bed wearing only his boxer briefs. She changed into her nightshirt and followed him. “But my main mission tomorrow is to get Homer’s DNA.” Wally cleared his throat and she hastily added, “But only if I can do it in a completely safe way.”
* * *
After Wally left for work, Skye tidied up the RV, then played with the twins until Dorothy arrived. The housekeeper was fifteen minutes early, which gave Skye plenty of time to show her where all the baby paraphernalia was before she had to leave.
At 10:50 a.m., with Dorothy’s assurances ringing in her ears, Skye grabbed her tote bag and headed to work. The high school’s PPS meeting had always been late afternoons on Tuesday, but at the beginning of the academic year Homer and Neva had decided to trade slots, so now it was at eleven thirty. Neither principal had consulted with Skye, the speech therapist, or the district nurse, all of whom were required to attend the meetings and had to rearrange their schedules due to the change.
Pushing through the high school�
�s glass front doors, Skye turned to the counter separating the main office from the lobby. Lunch A was due to start in a few minutes and Opal Hill, the school secretary, was busy with students purchasing last-minute meal tickets.
Skye examined the sixty-something woman. She looked more and more exhausted each time Skye saw her. The secretary’s mother was nearly a hundred and Opal was her only child. While she worked, a home health aide stayed with Mrs. Hill, but at all other times, Opal was her mom’s sole caretaker.
Raising her voice over the teenage babble, Skye asked, “Is Mr. Knapik around?”
“He’s with the superintendent.” Opal glanced behind her as if the men might sneak up on her, then pointed across the lobby to C wing’s hallway. “They’re holding the PPS meeting in the art room.”
“Okay.” Skye smiled and said, “Thanks!”
She waited until Opal was distracted, then slipped down the short passageway leading toward the principal’s office. Homer often left a trail of trash on the floor of the corridor, but threw a fit if anyone else dropped as much as a piece of lint.
Since no one but Homer was allowed to eat in the main office, anything Skye found would be his and likely contain his DNA. She was hoping for an empty soda can or a discarded candy wrapper, but was disappointed to find the linoleum sparkling clean.
The custodian must have just been by. The poor man swept this area three or four times a day trying to keep up with Homer’s mess.
Skye checked her watch. She’d have to wait until Homer left his office to go through his trash can, but she didn’t have time to hang around. The PPS meeting would be starting soon and she really needed to confer with Piper before everyone else arrived.
Turning to leave, Skye stopped in her tracks when she heard a sarcastic male voice say from behind Homer’s partially open door, “You’ve really screwed the pooch this time.”
Uh-oh. That was the superintendent and he sounded ticked. Usually Dr. Wraige and Homer were buddy-buddy, but something must have caused that to change.
Come Homicide or High Water Page 11
