Murder of a Sleeping Beauty (24 page)

“Yes, lucky for you, you and your car seem to be quite memorable.”

“Can I go?” Skye asked, rubbing her wrists.

“Yes.” Wally leaned forward, appearing a little less confident. “Look, I know you’ve probably been snoo—investigating, so since I was wrong about you stealing the tox report, I’m going to give you one ‘get out of jail free’ card.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is your chance to fill me in on anything you’ve discovered that you think I should know,
and
it’s your chance to ask me some questions.”

She thought quickly. “In other words, you have diddlysquat on the investigation, and you want to see if I can give you a lead.”

He retained his newfound affability, but there was a distinct hardening of his eyes. “If that’s how you want to interpret my generous gesture, you’re free to leave.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Skye hated having to back down. She knew she was right about his motives, but May had taught her a long time ago not to bite off her nose to spite her face. Besides, Wally had just screwed up royally, and she wasn’t about to let him forget it. She smiled and said, “Here’s what I want: For every piece of information I give you, you answer a question for me. Deal?”

He nodded.

“Also, you call Homer and the superintendent, and tell them I’ve been completely cleared.”

He nodded again.

“Okay. Let’s see, what have I found out? One, Lorelei was far from the saint the teachers seem to think she was. Many students are not sad that she’s gone.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Skye frowned. She had to separate what the teens had told her during counseling, which she couldn’t reveal, from what she had overheard. “Zoë VanHorn benefits greatly from Lorelei’s death.” She couldn’t mention Frannie, as her revelation had been with the expectation of confidentiality. And she couldn’t mention Troy because she wasn’t supposed to know of Lorelei’s pregnancy.

“Interesting.” The chief made a note. “What’s your first question?”

“Were you ever allowed to search Lorelei’s room?”

“No, we’re still trying to get a warrant.”

“Okay, info number two. Mrs. Ingels and Linette both have reputations for being willing to do anything to win a beauty pageant.” Skye crossed her legs.

“That has no bearing on Lorelei’s murder. No question for you.”

Her lips thinned. “Be that way. How about Mrs. VanHorn? She’s bound and determined to have Zoë take over everything that Lorelei had. I’ve heard her threatening the director of the musical and Mrs. Ingels. And you may not realize how much money is involved with the pageants those girls compete in.”

“I’ll accept that as relevant. What’s your second question?”

“Have you searched Lorelei’s school locker?”

The chief sighed. “No, we’re still waiting for a warrant for that, too.”

“Third, I overheard a bunch of Lorelei’s closest girl-friends talking about the teacher she was sleeping with. I didn’t get a name because you arrested me at just that moment.”

“We didn’t have any hint of that.” Wally looked a little sheepish. “Too bad you didn’t hear who it was.”

“Yeah.” Skye decided it wasn’t a good idea to pursue that line of thought. “There are only so many male teachers, which narrows it down.” Skye paused, remembering what the little girl who cut off the other kid’s braid had said. “Or, maybe the teachers weren’t necessarily male, and not necessarily from the school. She had a lot of dance, voice, and drama teachers, too.”

“Very interesting. Question three?”

“How are people’s alibis holding up?”

“Without the results of the tox screen, we haven’t been sure how long whatever she was given takes to work. But according to the medical examiner, she could have been given the doctored drink at any time and consumed it hours later. That means no one has an alibi.”

Skye had one more question, but couldn’t think of anything else to trade. She tried passing speculation as information. “Last, the Ingels are a strange family. The little sister is spooky. She reminds me of the girl in that movie,
The Bad Seed.
”

“You think the little girl might have killed her sister?”

“No.” What she really wondered was if Mr. Ingels had been molesting Lorelei and then turned to Linette. But it would be irresponsible for her to suggest such a possibility without some evidence. “But maybe her parents think so. Maybe that’s why they’re fighting so hard for you not to search Lorelei’s room. Maybe they’re afraid there’s some proof.” Or maybe Mr. Ingels was hiding his own sins.

“Interesting, but pure conjecture. No question.”

“Okay.” Skye suddenly remembered her discovery during cheerleading practice. “How about this? That piece of tinsel you found in the gym the day Lorelei died—it’s probably part of a pom-pom.”

Wally made a note. “Thanks. Next question?”

“Did you ever find out what the bottle with the pill fragments originally contained?”

“No, we’ve looked in all the stores in Scumble River, Clay City, Brooklyn, and even Laurel. Nothing matches.” The chief stood. “I’m sending someone to Kankakee tomorrow.”

Skye got up, too. “Good luck finding out who stole the report. I assume another is being mailed—as we speak.”

“No. I just made Simon a copy of the one I received. The lab sends the reports to both of us.”

Damn!
If she had known that, she could have used one of her questions to get the results of the tox screen. She tried the casual approach. “What were the results?”

The chief smiled, not fooled for a moment. “Sorry, you’ve used up all your questions for today.”

She didn’t bother to suppress her loud groan. Oh well, maybe his victory would improve their relationship.

 

 

 

 

C
onsidering everything, Skye felt surprisingly pleased as she went down the police-station stairs. True, being arrested had been a terrifying and humiliating experience, but now she and the chief were even. How could he remain ticked off at her after he had wrongly accused her of committing a crime? To add to her sense of well-being, she had been able to share her information with Wally, so he couldn’t accuse her later of hiding evidence, plus she’d gotten answers to some of her questions. Too bad she messed up and didn’t ask about the tox-screen results. But all in all, not a bad few hours’ work. Good thing she tended to see the glass as half-full and not half-empty.

She glanced at her watch. Past seven. Maybe she should have suggested to Wally that they get something to eat. She’d check with the dispatcher to see what time he went off duty when she asked about her mother’s whereabouts.

Almost whistling, she pushed open the dispatch door and smiled at the unfamiliar woman sitting behind the radio panel. “Hi, I’m Skye Denison, May’s daughter. I thought she was on duty tonight. Do you know what happened?”

“No, they don’t tell us part-timers much. Just got a call about three to come in.” The woman indicated the phone. “Want to call your mama?”

“Thanks.” As she dialed, Skye asked, “Do you know when the chief gets off work?”

The dispatcher started to answer, but her radio blared to life and she held up a finger indicating just a minute.

Meanwhile, Skye’s call went through. “Mom, why aren’t you working?”

“Hello to you too,” May said. “I got a call this afternoon saying the schedule had been screwed up, and I wasn’t on until tomorrow. Why?”

Interesting. Obviously Wally had finagled to keep May off-site. He’d learned something since the last time he had dealt with their family, when he had tried to interrogate her brother, and Skye and her mother had foiled his scheme by getting a lawyer there pronto.

Skye told May what had happened. Her mother was not amused, and Skye almost pitied Wally. A verbal bloodbath would almost certainly take place tomorrow afternoon when May came on duty. Before hanging up she invited May to go with her to the pageant on Saturday. May said she’d consider it.

As Skye finished her call, the dispatcher asked, “You were asking about the chief?”

“Right.”

“I think he was supposed to be out of here a half hour ago.” The woman pointed to the window that opened onto the waiting area. “That lady’s been waiting at least that long for him.”

Skye felt a twinge in her chest as she stared at the person the dispatcher indicated. Seated on the vinyl sofa was Abby Fleming—school nurse, Vince’s ex-girlfriend, and one of the most beautiful women in Scumble River.

 

It had been a long day. Skye resisted the desire to tell Charlie about her false arrest and have him yell at the chief, but she did phone Trixie. She was the one person who would listen to her woes without trying to fix them.

Toward the end of their conversation, Skye tried to be magnanimous, and said, “Well, maybe Wally has learned something from all this. Now he’ll have to admit how easy it is to do something against your common sense in the heat of an investigation.”

Trixie wasn’t convinced. “Men always think what they do is fine, but heaven forbid us women make mistakes.”

“I think it’s a sign of progress that he’s dating again,” Skye commented, closing her eyes in pain as she forced herself to utter the words.

Trixie snorted. “A hard-on does not count as personal growth.”

Trust Trixie to get to the heart of the matter. Skye laughed so loud she scared Bingo, who hid under the bed for twenty minutes after she hung up.

Sleep came in snatches, punctuated by horrible dreams. Finally, at five, she gave up and got out of bed. Her head felt fuzzy, and it took an effort to walk across the room. She dug through her dresser drawer for her swimsuit and pulled it on.

After packing what she would need to wear for the school day, and feeding the cat, she slid into the Bel Air. The aqua car made her feel as if she should be wearing a formal gown and tiara, and waving to the crowd along a parade route.

Skye tried to swim three or four mornings a week, but the Lorelei crisis had interrupted her routine. When it was cold she swam at the high school before the day started. In the summer she used the Scumble River recreational club, a lake formed from a reclaimed coal mine.

Today she was earlier than usual and felt a chill run up her spine as she entered the empty building. There hadn’t been a single car in the lot—even the janitor hadn’t arrived yet.

A few years ago, when the district received some money from a neighboring nuclear power plant, they added a pool to one side of the gym. Instead of using the funds for new books or more teachers, the school board had been hoodwinked by a fast-talking salesman and a group of parents with their own agendas. It was the one time in anyone’s memory that the board had voted against Charlie. Allen Ingels had supported the pool. Because of this, Skye always had mixed feelings when she used the facility.

The only entrance to the pool was through the locker rooms. Today she slowed as she entered the girls’ side, daunted by the lingering memory of being dragged out in handcuffs. Her face reddened, and she cringed at the thought that she would be the focus of gossip du jour.

A picture on one of the cheerleader’s lockers distracted her. Skye leaned in for a better look. It was a head shot of a girl, presumably the locker’s owner. Skye wondered what that was all about. She’d have to ask Trixie.

The scent of chlorine overpowered the smell of sweat as Skye unlocked the door to the pool. Dropping her belongings on a chair, she eased out of the sweat suit she wore over her maillot and slipped into the water. The cool liquid washed her cares away.

She knew she shouldn’t swim alone, which is why she didn’t dive or go into the deeper areas. Instead she swam laps until she was tired, then floated on her back.

A second after she heard a splash, she felt a wave. She was struggling to stand when a blond head popped up beside her.

“Kent! You scared me to death. What are you doing here?” She treaded water as she tried to move back into a shallower area.

His smile appeared forced. “Long time, no see. I thought perhaps you were avoiding me. So when I noticed your car, and remembered you mentioning swimming in the morning, I decided to join you. Hope I’m not intruding.”

You just happened to have a bathing suit in your car? Right.
As to his intruding, this wasn’t the time or the place to tell Kent Walker what she really thought of him.

“I guess we’ve both been distracted.” Kent ran his hand up and down her arm.

She let the water move her out of his reach. “Every time I’ve seen you, it seems Priscilla VanHorn has been with you. Or some other female parent.”

“I never would have thought you were the jealous type.” His voice held a hint of smugness.

“I’m full of surprises.”
And you’re overdue for one of them.
Skye moved away even farther from him. “I want to do a few more laps.”

As she swam, she considered the situation. It was time to tell Kent they were finished, that she knew about Lorna. But before she did, she had a few questions for him regarding Lorelei’s death and his affair with her mother.

Using the ladder, she climbed out of the pool. She had always lacked the upper body strength to boost herself up on the side using only her arms.

After gathering her stuff, she stood at the edge, and said, “Come for dinner tonight and we’ll talk things over.” She forced herself to sound friendly. Her plan was to lull him into a false sense of security before she interrogated him.

Kent swam over to the side. “Sorry. I’m tied up tonight and tomorrow with rehearsals for
Sleeping Beauty
. How about Saturday?”

“I’m going to the Miss Central Illinois pageant with my mom on Saturday. How about Sunday at six?”

“Six, Sunday night, sounds good. See you then.” It would be a dinner Kent would not soon forget. Surprisingly, Skye hadn’t felt the betrayal she would have expected from finding out the man she was dating was sleeping with a married woman. What she felt was stone-cold anger. Kent Walker was going to pay.