Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry (9 page)

“I don’t know.” Skye started toward the door again. “But I do know we need to talk to the police.”

After extracting a promise from Bunny not to tell anyone about the Xenia/Ashley situation, Skye sent her runner home. Skye didn’t like the glint in Bunny’s eye as she hurried out the door, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

Next, she found her godfather talking to a petite brunette half his age. At six feet tall, he towered over the woman. They were deep in conversation when Skye interrupted to tell him that Frannie and Justin were driving her home. He acknowledged her with a muttered, “Great,” but his gaze never left the woman’s face, and before Skye could add anything, he whispered something in the lady’s ear that made her giggle and pat his arm.

Having taken care of Bunny and Charlie, Skye led Justin and Frannie out to the parking lot and borrowed Justin’s cell phone—one of the few that mysteriously seemed to work anywhere in Scumble River. “Thea? This is Skye.”

“Hi, honey. How’s the cooking contest going? Your mom is so proud that you and Vince are in it with her.” Thea Jones was one of the dispatchers who worked with May.

Thea was a grandmotherly type who knew everyone in town, and Skye acknowledged that there was no way to cut through the social chitchat if she wanted to keep Ashley’s disappearance quiet, so she summarized the day’s events, ending with, “We just finished, and I’m heading home to change for the dinner, but I wanted to ask Wally something first. Is he around?”

“Sorry, sweetie. He’s not here right now. He’s probably at home getting ready for your big dinner party.”

“Thanks. I’ll try him there. Bye.” Skye hit the END button before Thea could ask any more questions, grateful she hadn’t had to go through the whole “how are you, how’s your family, isn’t the weather nice” ritual.

While she dialed Wally’s home number, Skye said to Frannie, “Start driving toward town.”

From the seat of Frannie’s father’s pickup truck, Skye watched the trees sweeping by as her call went through. When she got Wally’s answering machine she tried his cell phone, but he didn’t answer that either. She left another urgent message, checked her watch, then said to Frannie, “Head toward my house. He’s supposed to pick me up there at quarter to seven, and it’s already six thirty.”

Justin and Frannie were strangely quiet as they drove. Skye considered questioning them to try to gather additional information about Xenia, but decided to see what Wally thought before she did anything more.

It was only a few minutes to the old Griggs place, which Skye had inherited that past summer. The house was a little isolated, and a lot rundown, but Skye had felt an immediate connection with Alma Griggs, and had been touched when the elderly woman’s will revealed she had entrusted Skye with her home.

During the six months Skye had owned the house, she’d been trying to fix it up. After hiring one horrible contractor, she had been lucky to find a great woman who had whipped the outside into wonderful shape. Skye admired the new siding, windows, roof, and sidewalks as Frannie pulled into the driveway.

The instant the truck stopped, Skye jumped out and headed up the steps, pausing on the wraparound porch to dig through her purse for the keys. Justin and Frannie caught up to her as she swung open the front door.

Inside, Skye had had the contractor fix the plumbing and wiring, but she had run out of money before she got to the cosmetic repairs, so she had been trying to do those herself. So far she had managed to paint the entrance hall,
parlor, dining room, and kitchen, but the hardwood floors still need refinishing, and the drapes had to be replaced. She hadn’t even begun to touch the upstairs, except for removing a loathsome moose head from the wall of the master bedroom.

Now, as she stood in the freshly painted foyer, she tried to decide what to do about the present situation. Should she change into the clothes she had planned to wear for the dinner? Should she even attend the dinner? She had no desire to sit through a formal banquet, but if she didn’t May would demand to know why, and that would mean news of Ashley’s disappearance would be all over town. Maybe Wally would want her to go to the party just to keep things quiet. If that was so, she’d better get dressed. He was due in less than five minutes and was rarely more than a minute or two late.

Turning to the teens crowded behind her, Skye pointed to the kitchen and said, “Why don’t you guys help yourselves to some sodas and snacks while I change? When the doorbell rings, make sure it’s Chief Boyd; then let him in. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“What are you changing clothes for?” Justin demanded, looking her up and down.

“Shut up,” Frannie hissed, elbowing him in the side. “I’ll explain later.”

Skye ignored both teens and took the stairs two at a time, shutting the bedroom door behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she wiggled out of her slacks and yanked her blouse over her head. Luckily she had already selected a dress to wear, and she grabbed it from its hanger.

As she pulled it over head and started to shimmy into it, she heard the phone ring. The dress was a straight black sheath, and required some time to get on. Hurrying was not an option, and before she was able to poke her head out of the draped neckline, there were two more rings.

Skye rushed to the phone by her bedside, another improvement she had finally made to the house. Previously the only phone was in the parlor.

Grabbing the receiver, she heard Wally say, “Skye—”
Then an extremely loud buzzing sound interrupted, and she couldn’t make out a word.

She shouted into the mouthpiece, “Hang up and call back.”

After returning the receiver to its cradle she waited, wondering if this was one of her ghost’s latest tricks. She and Wally had just about given up trying to spend any time at Skye’s house. It seemed that whenever they started to get intimate, something would short out the power, cause the plumbing to spew like a fountain, or blow up. Secretly—she had never shared this thought with anyone—Skye thought the ghost of the previous owner was behind the mischief.

Mrs. Griggs had taken quite an interest in Skye, and Skye was pretty sure that Mrs. Griggs didn’t want Wally around. Skye wasn’t sure if that applied to all men she might date or just Wally, since she’d been broken up with Simon before taking ownership of the possessed house.

The phone rang again, but this time when she tried to answer it nothing happened—no voice, no buzzing, just empty air, so she hung up. When it didn’t ring again, she tried Wally’s home and cell phones, but couldn’t reach him on either.

Grinding her teeth, Skye finally gave up and went back to dressing. It took her only a few minutes to finish. She slipped on black patent-leather sling-backs, brushed some bronzer on her face and mascara on her lashes, combed her hair into a smooth pageboy, and stuffed her jewelry into her evening bag to put on later.

Skye looked at her watch as she descended the stairs. It was a few minutes past seven and she hadn’t heard a doorbell. Unless the teens had let Wally in before he had even rung the bell, he was late, which wasn’t at all like him.

What could be keeping him? Perhaps if she had been able to hear him when he phoned she would know.

S
kye listened in exasperation to Wally’s message on her answering machine. “Skye, sugar, what’s wrong with your phone? I sure hope you get this. I’m really sorry, but I’ve had an emergency come up and I can’t take you to the dinner.” There was a pause and she could hear a muffled voice in the background; then Wally said, “I’ll call you tomorrow morning before you leave for the contest.” There was silence, but she could tell he hadn’t hung up; then he added, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, my cell phone’s not working. Bye.”

“Damn!” Now what was she supposed to do? Skye wished Trixie hadn’t gone away for spring break. Come to think of it Trixie had a knack for being away when things at school imploded.

Skye’s head felt as if it were about to fly off her shoulders. Did Wally’s emergency involve Ashley’s disappearance? Clearly he hadn’t gotten either of her earlier messages. Should she go to the police station? Should she go to the dinner? Or maybe she’d go to bed and let everyone deal with their own problems. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Justin had sidled into the parlor without Skye noticing. “Uh, Ms. D, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to smile calmly. “Just a little frustrated.”

Frannie edged in and stood next to Justin, taking his hand. “Are you mad because Chief Boyd broke your date?”

“No.” Skye sank into the sofa, feeling strangely like crying. “I’m upset because I’m not sure what to do.”

“You’ll think of something,” Frannie soothed. “Take a deep breath.”

Skye looked at the girl and realized that Frannie had come a long way since she first met her over two years ago. Back then Frannie had been insecure and obsessed with her own problems. Now, as Skye looked into the teen’s confident and caring brown eyes, she saw the woman Frannie would become.

“You’re right.” Skye inhaled and instantly felt a bit calmer. “Thank you.”

“So, what are we going to do?” Justin paced in front of the settee. “If Xenia kills Ashley, the superintendent will get rid of the paper for sure.”

Skye fought a flicker of irritation at Justin’s self-absorption, reminding herself that he was almost a year younger than his girlfriend, and had had a much harder life.

While Frannie had a loving and supportive father, Justin had pretty much raised himself. Mr. Boward was in nearly constant pain and lived from day to day, which had caused Justin’s mother to sink further into a depression that rarely allowed her to leave the house.

“There’s not a lot I can do until I can reach the chief,” Skye said, and stood up. “Maybe the emergency he was talking about was Ashley’s disappearance.” She turned to Frannie. “When you talked to Mrs. Yates, did you get the impression she was going to call the police?”

“No. Probably not after I made up the story about the cheerleaders having a slumber party.”

“Shoot. I had forgotten about that.” Skye scooped up the cordless phone and strode into the kitchen. “So she won’t be expecting Ashley until sometime tomorrow?”

Frannie nodded.

“Okay. First I’ll call the police station and see if Ashley
or Xenia has been reported missing. I doubt Xenia’s mom will involve the cops, considering her daughter’s history, but I want to make sure.”

Skye punched in the nonemergency number for the PD and said, “Thea? It’s Skye again. Have you heard from Wally?”

“Isn’t he with you?” Thea’s voice rose in alarm. “You’re both supposed to be at the dinner. Your mom will be real upset if you aren’t there.”

“I’m on my way. Wally left me a message saying he had an emergency, but I really need to talk to him.”

“Sorry, he doesn’t have a radio with him and isn’t in a squad car. How about his cell?”

“He said it’s not working. I guess I’ll try his house again.” Skye bit her lip, then asked, “By the way, you haven’t had any reports about a missing teenager or two, have you?”

“No. Who’s missing?” Thea demanded.

“Uh, I’m not sure. Oh, someone’s on my other line. Gotta go.” Skye hung up, feeling guilty. No one else was phoning. She didn’t even have call waiting.

She turned to Justin and Frannie, who had been listening. “Well, that settles that. Mrs. Yates has not called about Ashley, which means I’ll have to tell her Frannie was lying.”

Both teens protested, but Skye remained firm. As much as she didn’t want to risk the student paper, she knew Mrs. Yates had to know the truth. With Wally AWOL, Skye had no choice. She couldn’t ask one of the other officers to look for a girl they didn’t have an official report on and whose parents had no idea she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

A few minutes later, after reaching Mrs. Yates and explaining Frannie’s deception, Skye held the handset away from her ear. Ashley’s mom was not taking the news well. Not that Skye had expected her to. Skye made soothing sounds as the woman ranted and raved, and threatened another lawsuit. Just before she hung up, Mrs. Yates said she was phoning the police.

Although Skye was relieved that at least now someone would be looking for Ashley, she still had to bite back a pithy comment or two about parents keeping control of their own children, and not expecting the school to do the parents’ jobs for them.

The call to Mrs. Craughwell went even more poorly. She did not believe Xenia was involved and claimed her daughter was in her room as they spoke. Of course, even if Xenia was there, it didn’t mean she hadn’t kidnapped Ashley earlier and stashed her somewhere. The best Skye could do was make another phone call to the police and leave a message about Xenia’s blog entry.

All of this took surprisingly little time. After Skye sent Justin and Frannie home, she looked at her watch and saw it was only seven forty-five. If she left right away, she could still make the dinner. There was nothing else she could do for Ashley or Xenia, and according to the schedule, cocktails were at seven and the food would be served at eight. Skye would be just in time for the soup, which might be soon enough to keep her out of hot water with May.