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Authors: Denise Swanson

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BOOK: Murder of a Barbie and Ken
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Skye nodded again, agreeing that was appropriate.

Theresa’s face went from dusky rose to ruby red as she finished the story. “I had just started a new lesson when suddenly there was a ruckus in Mack’s part of the room. I went over to investigate, and found him sitting at his desk with his you-know-what hanging out.”

Skye’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, my. What did you do?”

“I had him zip up and marched him down to the office.”

Which should have been the end of it, but obviously wasn’t. “Then what?”

“When we got here, I asked him why he’d done that.”

“What was his answer?”

“He said that his mom told him that if he could stick it out until noon, she’d come pick him up from school.”

There was a moment of silence, then Skye snickered. “So, what do you want my opinion about?”

Caroline leaned forward. “Do we believe him? Was it a misunderstanding, or is he playing us all for fools?”

Skye considered what she knew about child development and asked, “Did his mom really say that?”

Caroline nodded.

“Then I’d believe he was telling the truth and let him off the hook.” Skye blew out a long breath. “Let’s face it, this is not a matter we really want to have to investigate, right?”

Caroline and Theresa both nodded.

As Theresa and Skye left the office, Theresa gave Skye a sly glance and said, “Gee, I wonder if this is how Ken Addison got murdered.”

Skye looked puzzled.

An amused twinkle lit her eyes. “You know, maybe Ken stuck his weenie out when he should have kept it zipped in his pants.”

Skye laughed, then sobered quickly. “Speaking of that, how did Barbie take his fooling around on her?”

“She never gave the slightest indication that she was aware of his affairs.” Theresa shrugged. “But she should have expected it. Hilary told me he was engaged to someone else when he met Barbie.”

The comforting thing about McDonald’s was that it never changed. Sure, they occasionally added or deleted menu items, and sometimes even redecorated, but the essential experience of eating there remained the same.

Skye turned into the restaurant’s parking area at exactly
twelve-twenty-five. The absence of Wally’s cruiser indicated that he hadn’t arrived yet.

The asphalt was currently clear of snow, but an eight-foot mountain of the white stuff was heaped in the center of the lot around a light pole. At the rate they were going, the pile would still be there in April.

She maneuvered the Bel Air between two yellow lines. The huge car made parking a challenge, especially if another car took up more than its allotted space. And backing out could be a nightmare if the vehicles behind her were sticking out too far.

Skye turned off the engine and flipped the rearview mirror toward her. Her hair still looked good. She had taken the time that morning to use hot rollers, and with the low humidity, her normal curls had been tamed into hanging in a long curve over her shoulders. A couple of quick strokes of blush, a coat of lip gloss, and she was good to go.

The temperature was dropping, and Skye tightened her green paisley scarf as she carefully picked her way across the slick blacktop. She did not want to perform a pratfall for the lunch crowd.

When she neared the door, someone reached around her and swept it open. She turned, and Wally’s warm brown eyes met hers. He smiled, put his free hand on her back, and guided her inside.

Skye moved away from his touch and walked toward the counter. “Brrr. Sure has gotten cold again.”

“Weather Channel is saying we might get below zero tonight.” Wally followed her. “I can’t remember the last time we had a November this bad.”

“Hi, may I take your order?” The woman at the counter interrupted their small talk, glancing pointedly to the line that had formed behind them.

“Sure, sorry. I’ll have a cheeseburger Happy Meal with a diet Coke,” Skye said.

Wally stared at her. “A Happy Meal?”

“Yes.” Skye stared back. “I want a cheeseburger, small fries, and a soft drink, which is exactly what a Happy Meal is. It’s cheaper than the adult version, plus I get the toy, which I’ll use as a reward for one of the kids.”

“I see you have it all figured out.” Wally turned to the counter woman. “Give me a Quarter Pounder with cheese, large fries, and coffee.” He laid a twenty on the counter and pointed to Skye. “This is for hers and mine.”

“I’ll pay for my own lunch,” Skye objected.

The woman behind the counter handed Wally his change, and he said to Skye, “Too late.”

Sweeping a glance across the dining area, Skye headed for a table in the rear corner. She liked having her back to the wall and face toward the action. That way she could observe without being in the spotlight herself.

Skye and Wally put their trays down and took off their coats before sliding into opposite benches. Wally’s face was drawn and his eyes were bloodshot.

Skye asked, “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

“Some.” He started to add something, then stopped.

“What?”

“I was just going to say that between the murders and Darleen, missing a little sleep is the least of my worries.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Skye didn’t encourage him to go on. She didn’t really want to get into the topic of Wally’s ex-wife.

Wally didn’t take the hint. “I told you she started calling me at the end of last summer.”

Skye nodded politely.

“At first it was just to talk. She felt bad about the way she had left me. But now, she’s admitted that she and the new guy aren’t getting along, and since I’m not dating anyone, she’s convinced I want her back—”

“That’s a tricky situation, but I’m sure you’ll figure things out,” Skye cut him off. “Sorry to rush you, but I have to get back to school soon and I wanted to ask for a rundown
on the Addison case.” Skye gave him a sidelong glance. “I figured since you had asked me to be your spy at GUMB activities, you’d be willing to share information.”

“Sure.” An easy smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Though, I don’t have much to report.”

“Has the time of death been determined yet?”

“Generally bodies lose heat at about one and a half degrees per hour. One of the problems with this case is that whoever killed them turned up the thermostat before he or she left, then one of our officers turned it down, so we don’t know the true temperature inside the house from the time of death to when they were discovered. The best the medical examiner can say is that they died between thirty minutes and three hours before you found them at ten-thirty.”

Skye had taken the legal pad with her questions out of her purse. She jotted down Wally’s answer, then asked, “Did they find any evidence at the scene that pointed to the killer?”

“There were hundreds of fingerprints all over the inside of the house and garage, but none matched anything in our computer system. The techs are coming back this afternoon and processing the Addisons’ vehicles to see if we can come up with something.”

“Why?”

“Both cars were sitting in the driveway. Maybe one of the victims gave the killer a ride to the house.” Wally shrugged. “We just want to make sure we cover all the bases.”

Skye glanced around. No one was paying any attention to them. “So, do you think the murderer was looking for something?”

“We can’t rule out robbery completely, but even though the house was trashed, the TV, jewelry, and quite a bit of cash were all there.” He leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “My guess is that whoever did it was in a rage. Maybe they were looking for something, or maybe they just wanted to destroy everything the Addisons stood for.”

“Do you have any suspects?”

A line formed between Wally’s brows. “Addison was a real piece of work. His little black book was in three volumes, he had a slew of unhappy patients, and he had made a lot of enemies during his presidency of the GUMBs.”

“Imperial Brahma Bull.”

“What?”

“That’s the correct title for the head of the GUMBs,” Skye answered distractedly as she shredded a napkin. “So you haven’t narrowed down the suspects at all?”

The chief wadded up the trash from his lunch and stuffed it into his empty coffee cup. “Nope. Half the town is on the list.”

“Any alibis?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Some have witnesses for a part of the time in question, but not the full three hours.”

“Did you find out anything about their financial situation? Why Barbie was selling Instant Gourmet rather than playing tennis at the country club?”

“Everything indicates that they had plenty of cash and assets. They had a big mortgage and huge credit card bills, but they never missed a payment, and there was more money coming in each month than going out.” Wally shrugged. “Maybe she just enjoyed having all those other women working for her.”

“She might have liked the feeling of power and control.” Skye twirled her straw. “I guess because I hate selling things to people, I think everyone does.” She took a sip of her diet Coke. “Thanks for telling me all this.”

Wally put Skye’s trash on his tray and stacked them together. “You know I trust you.”

She felt a rush of pleasure. She had lost his trust for a while some months back, and it was good to have regained it. “By the way, at the GUMB bowling league Friday night, Tony Zello and Bob Ginardi asked me to investigate the
murders. And Saturday night at the dance, Nate Turner asked me to do the same thing.”

“I wonder what those three are up to.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s something to do with GUMB secrets. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

Wally nodded.

“As I mentioned earlier, I visited Yolanda Doozier, Addison and Zello’s office manager, Saturday morning.”

“What did she have to say?”

“Did you question her?” Skye asked.

“Briefly. She wasn’t too talkative.”

Skye smiled. This was an advantage she had over the police, and one reason Wally appreciated her help—people who wouldn’t talk to the cops would often talk to her. “She told me quite a bit about Ken’s womanizing, but she doesn’t know who his latest fling was.”

“Nothing new there.”

“Right. The part I found interesting was about Ken and Tony’s relationship.” Skye leaned forward and told Wally what Yolanda had said about the research money. She ended with “So it seems to me that Tony had a real grudge against Ken, and might even benefit from Ken being out of the picture. Maybe now Tony can take over that lucrative grant Ken stole out from under his nose.”

“Not bad. I’ll check and see if Zello is in line to pick up Addison’s research project now that he’s dead. Did Yolanda know what type of research the good doctors were doing?”

“No.” They were silent until Skye said, “Oh, I almost forgot. Father Burns mentioned Addison’s unhappy patients after Mass yesterday.”

“Yeah, we’re trying to get the court’s permission to let us look through his medical files. But doctor/patient confidentiality is a bear to get around.”

Skye slid out of the booth. “Well, I’d better get going.”

He deposited their trash in the bin, and they walked outside. Skye unlocked her car and slid inside.

Wally stood in the open door and stared into her eyes. “I’m glad for your help with this case, but be careful. There’s a lot of violence in this killer.”

“I won’t take any chances.” She crossed her fingers and added under her breath, “That I absolutely don’t have to.”

  
CHAPTER 14
  

O, what a tangled web we weave

—Sir Walter Scott

D
uring the rest of the afternoon, Skye thought about what she had learned at lunch. It hadn’t occurred to her until she talked things over with Wally that there were really two motives stemming from Ken Addison’s medical practice—Tony Zello’s anger over losing the grant, and the patients who felt they had been mistreated.

When the teachers’ dismissal bell rang at three-thirty, Skye stuffed her appointment book into her purse, grabbed her coat, and hurried out of the building, anxious to get home and oust her unwanted houseguest.

Five minutes later, Skye was home. She fed Bingo, then went into the guest bath to clean his litter.
Shit
! Her breath caught in her throat. She knew Bunny was a slob, but this was too much. Used towels and dirty washcloths were everywhere, the floor was sticky with what Skye could only hope was hair spray, and red nail polish had dripped on the pale gray marble counter.

“Bunny.” Skye waited a second. No response. She tried
again, louder. “Bunny.” No answer. That did it. Bunny had crossed the line. If Skye had wanted to raise someone with this type of behavior, she would have adopted a teenager. “Bunny! Get in here right now!”

“What?” Bunny yelled back. “I’m on the phone.”

“Hang up and get in here right now.”

“It’s a real important call.”

“Now!”

Bunny darted into the bathroom. “That was about a job. I need to call them right back. Can’t this wait?”

“No.” Skye swept the small room with her arm. “Look at this mess.”

“Yeah. I was wondering when your cleaning lady comes.”

A picture of May with a bottle of Windex briefly flitted across Skye’s mind, but she firmly thrust it away. “You’re looking at her.”

“Oh.” Bunny played with the zipper of her warm-up jacket. “Ah, so I guess I should clean this up. I’ll do it as soon as I call back about that job.”

“Do it now.” Skye glared. “Cleaning supplies and rags are in the utility room.”

“Really.” Bunny backed up. “I’ll do it later, as soon as I finish with that call.”

That was it. Skye had had enough. “There is no later for you. At least not in this cottage.” She grabbed the redhead’s hand and led her into the great room. “Start packing.”

“Don’t be like that.” Bunny shook herself free and sat on the couch. “I’ll clean the bathroom, but I need to find a job.”

“That’s not the point. The point is you showed up six days ago saying you needed a place to spend the night, and I reluctantly let you stay here.” Skye located her houseguest’s suitcase, flipped open the lid, and started stuffing Bunny’s belongings inside. “You said you wanted a chance to get to know your son again, and I’ve tried to help you. But so far you’ve made no effort toward that goal. In fact, you
seem to be doing everything in your power to alienate him further. All you’ve done is put me in the middle.”

BOOK: Murder of a Barbie and Ken
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