Murder of a Stacked Librarian (18 page)

Touching his hand, she apologized. “I should never have answered the door, especially after I saw Earl standing there.”

“No big deal,” he assured her. “Stuff happens.” He took her elbow and guided her back into the hallway, where they continued their search.

When they didn’t find anyone in the half dozen smaller activity rooms or the swimming pool, Skye said, “Maybe Chip’s in his office, which is probably in the rear of the building.”

“I bet you’re right. Let’s go see.”

As they started to walk away from the pool area, Skye stopped abruptly. “Wait.” A sound was coming from the dressing rooms. She tilted her head and asked, “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah. It was a sort of moaning, I think.”

“Maybe the gym is haunted by exercise-crazed spirits,” Skye snickered. “Or poor souls who died trying to lose that last pound.”

“You know I don’t believe in ghosts.” Wally was undoubtedly referring to Skye’s pet poltergeist, Mrs. Griggs. “Which means that sound was real.” He edged past Skye, then strode toward the noise. As he eased open the door to the men’s locker room, he ordered, “Stay behind me.”

Skye let Wally get a few feet inside before poking her head around the door. Initially, his broad shoulders blocked her view, but when he started to retreat, she saw Emmy Jones in the arms of Simon Reid. Both of them were too preoccupied with each other to notice Wally’s entrance.

Emmy and Simon weren’t quite naked, but it was clear they wished they were, and Skye had to stifle a gasp. It wasn’t that she still loved Simon—all she felt for him now was friendship—but it was a shock to see him kissing another woman. Especially in a public place.

When Skye and Simon had dated, he’d been adamant that any display of affection needed to be in private. Apparently, Emmy brought out the uninhibited side of his personality. The side Skye had never been able to bring to the surface.

CHAPTER 16

Draw the Line

S
kye snatched Wally’s arm and pulled him out of the locker room, grabbing the door a split second before it slammed shut. As she eased it closed, she thanked the stars above that neither Simon nor Emmy had seen them. It would have been too darned humiliating to be caught watching her ex-boyfriend make out with his new sweetheart.

Wally’s shoulders were shaking with muted laughter as Skye dragged him past the pool and into the hallway. When they were finally in the clear, he cracked up, leaning against the wall and howling.

After a minute or so, Skye smacked him on the arm. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“The look on your face. You were horrified.” Wally took a breath, then chuckled again. “I don’t think you could have been any more appalled if you had walked in on your parents having sex.”

“Thanks.” Skye whacked him again. “Another image I need to get out of my mind.”

“I have to admit.” Wally’s tone was admiring. “I didn’t think Reid had it in him.” He shook his head. “Of course, with them both wearing only bathing suits—geez! Emmy in a bikini would probably melt most men’s . . .” Apparently noticing Skye’s displeased expression, Wally trailed off and quickly added, “Not that I . . . I mean she’s not my type, but other guys . . .”

Skye turned and walked stiffly away. She was upset on so many levels she couldn’t sort them out, and Wally’s words weren’t helping. She might not love Simon, but observing your ex in the arms of a younger, thinner, more beautiful woman would be hard for anyone to stomach. Then there was Wally’s attitude, not to mention his remark about the swimsuit-clad Emmy. It was just too much to take this close to her wedding.

Noticing the restroom to her right, Skye stomped inside, slammed the door shut, and turned the lock. She slumped against the sink, stared into the mirror, and wiped away a tear. Why was Wally being such a jerk? She felt sorry for herself for a few more seconds, then sniffed and realized that maybe the fault was hers, not his. It could be that she was being too sensitive. It had been sort of funny, seeing Simon so out of control. Even so, the remark about how hot Emmy was had been uncalled for.

Straightening her shoulders, Skye emerged from the ladies’ room to find Wally staring uneasily at the doorway. She met his worried gaze with a cool look.

He stepped toward her, cleared his throat, and said, “I apologize. I don’t know what got into me. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“No. You shouldn’t have.” Although Skye usually hated to see anyone feeling uncomfortable, she was determined to let him squirm.

“I realize now how embarrassing the situation was for you.” Wally edged closer.

“Exactly.” She allowed him to take her in his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. “Awkward would be putting it mildly.”

“And what I said about Emmy in a bikini was stupid.” Wally smoothed Skye’s hair. “You know I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, right?” When she didn’t answer, he cupped her chin and tilted her face up. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“It’s fine.” Skye didn’t meet his eyes. “I know you love me. And I know you find me attractive. But I also know that I’m not beautiful. And I’m all right with that—at least most of the time.”

Wally started to protest, but Skye shook her head and instead he asked, “We’re okay, though?” He kissed her temple. “I am sorry.”

“We’re good.” Skye stepped away and said, “I’m just being silly and overemotional. It must be bridal hormones or something.”

Before Wally could respond, Chip Nicolet rounded a corner of the hallway holding a sheaf of papers and talking into his cell. When he caught sight of Skye and Wally, he stared at them for a moment, zeroing in on Wally’s uniform, then muttered something into his phone and clicked it off.

Pasting a smile on his face, Chip walked toward Wally and said, “Chief Boyd. What can I do for you? Are you here to join up?”

“We’d like to speak to you about an incident that occurred a few days ago at the Scumble River Library.” Wally’s stance was relaxed, but his gaze never left the health club owner’s. “I was told that you had an altercation with Yvonne Osborn.”

“It was just a misunderstanding.” Chip shoved his phone and the papers he was holding into the back pocket of his jeans and crossed his beefy arms. “I asked her out; she declined. I thought she was playing hard to get, so I asked again. But that was it. No harm, no foul.”

“She used a stun gun on you,” Wally said, his voice conveying a subtle challenge. “That sounds like a problem to me.”

“Like I said, she misinterpreted my intentions and overreacted.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It was no biggie.”

Seeing that the men had apparently reached a stalemate, Skye introduced herself and said, “I’m the police department psych consultant, and I actually witnessed your run-in with Ms. Osborn.”

“That’s mighty convenient,” Chip huffed. “I don’t remember seeing you.”

“Nonetheless, I was there. I’m sure you wouldn’t notice a woman like me unless I was either in your way or you wanted something from me.” Skye waited for him to dispute her allegation, and when he didn’t, she continued. “And after you grabbed her and she Tasered you, you said, ‘You’ll be sorry for that, bitch.’”

Chip made a sound that was halfway between denial and exasperation.

Skye ignored his displeasure and asked, “Did you indeed make her sorry?” When he didn’t answer right away, she prodded, “Perhaps by lying in wait, then following her and running her car off the road.”

“Shit!” Chip narrowed his eyes. “So that’s what this is about. She had an accident and is blaming me. She sure holds a grudge.”

“She doesn’t anymore,” Wally said, rejoining the conversation. “Yvonne Osborn died last Sunday.”

“She
what
?” Chip jumped as if he’d been Tasered again. “How?”

“Her car was forced into the river.” Wally’s tone was impassive. “I’m surprised no one mentioned it to you or that you didn’t hear about it on the radio or read about it in the Laurel paper.”

“I don’t listen to the news or get the paper. It’s too boring. If it isn’t an AOL headline, I don’t want to know about it,” Chip muttered. Then, finally seeming to realize why Wally and Skye were questioning him, he protested, “I’m no killer.”

“Hardly anyone says that they are,” Skye murmured. “Maybe you didn’t mean for her to die. Maybe you just wanted to wreck her car.” Skye tilted her head. “After all, Yvonne spurned your advances, demeaned you, and then zapped you in the crotch. Together they make a pretty good motive for revenge.”

Ignoring Skye’s accusations, Chip turned to Wally and asked, “When did it happen?”

“Between four forty-five and five fifty-five p.m.,” Wally answered.

“And she was in town when she was forced off the road?” Chip demanded.

“Yes.” Wally studied the agitated man. “The bridge by Cattail Path.”

“Then I have about twenty witnesses who can tell you that I was nowhere near Scumble River Sunday night.” Chip let out a breath, clearly relieved. “I was in Joliet at my family’s Christmas Eve party from five until close to midnight.” He smiled triumphantly. “In fact, there’s a video of me lifting up a couch with five of my little cousins sitting on it while singing ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.’ It’s on YouTube.”

“We’ll need the names and phone numbers of everyone there and the URL for that YouTube video.” Wally took out his notepad and flipped it open.

“I have it all in my office.” Chip seemed happy to cooperate and led them toward the rear of the fitness center. “I’ve got the video on my computer. I’m going to use it in an ad for the club.”

Once Chip showed them the clip and provided the party’s guest list, Wally said to him, “I’ll ask that you stay here with Ms. Denison while I call and confirm your alibis.”

“But I got places to go, people to see,” Chip complained.

“This shouldn’t take too long.” Wally folded his arms. “Just take it easy.”

“But I’m not too good with being patient,” Chip grumbled.

“Challenge yourself.” Wally waited until the health club owner grudgingly took a seat behind his desk, then left.

Chip muttered something under his breath, then pulled out the papers he’d put in his pocket, leaned back in his chair, and leered at Skye. “I hope you’re into watching. This could be really exciting. I might even use a calculator and a spreadsheet.”

An hour later, when Wally finally returned and told Chip that he was in the clear, Skye jumped from her chair and barely stopped herself from running out the door. To make room for her wedding organizer, she’d taken out the book she usually carried in her purse, which meant she’d had nothing to do for the past sixty minutes except observe Chip chew on his pencil and swear at the computer. Boredom had set in after the first few unimaginative curse words, and by the time Wally appeared, Skye was almost comatose.

Driving back to the police station, Wally announced with a disgusted expression, “Another suspect bites the dust. I sure hope something comes of our reinterviews with the husband or the neighbor.”

“Me too,” Skye agreed. At the rate they were going, the murder wouldn’t be solved before they left on their honeymoon. She knew Wally wouldn’t have a good time with an open case hanging over his head, and if he wasn’t happy, she doubted she would be either.

• • •

When Skye’s alarm went off at seven the next morning, she wasn’t surprised to see Wally’s side of the bed empty. He’d had a restless night, and she vaguely remembered hearing him get up before dawn. When she’d checked the clock and discovered that it wasn’t even five a.m., she’d gone back to sleep.

Yawning, she stumbled downstairs, fed Bingo, and made herself a strong cup of coffee using her new favorite toy, the Keurig coffeemaker she’d received as a shower gift from her coworkers. When she and Wally ate breakfast together, it was easier to use her good old Mr. Coffee to brew a whole pot. But when she was alone, she loved all the different flavors the Keurig setup offered.

Carrying her mug back to her bedroom, she took contented sips of the French Roast Extra Bold as she made the bed, applied her makeup, and set her hair in hot rollers. Finally, she stared into her closet, waiting for inspiration to strike. She wasn’t sure how to dress for the day’s widely varying activities. Making the reception favors might be messy, but she didn’t know if she’d have enough time to change clothes afterward before meeting Wally at the station.

After a few minutes, when nothing jumped off the hanger and screamed “wear me,” she settled for a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved red T-shirt. Before leaving for the interviews, she would add a jacket to look more professional.

Once Skye was ready, she arranged the materials they would require to assemble the favors on the kitchen table, made a list of the cash and checks she would need to pay off her vendors, and was at the bank when it opened at nine.

It took nearly an hour to complete her transactions, mostly because the teller on duty was her cousin Ginger Leofanti, and Ginger wanted to discuss what she was wearing to Skye’s bachelorette party that night. Ginger explained that she was leaning toward a red minidress with red high heels, but she didn’t want to outshine Skye’s choice.

After reassuring her cousin that her outfit was fine, Skye arrived home just in time to greet her bridesmaid and matron of honor. Frannie was first through the door, with Trixie close behind her. Both women hugged Skye, then tried to speak at the same time.

Frannie won. “Justin got into U of I!”

“That’s awesome!” Skye was relieved. “Is he requesting the Illinois Street residence hall?” She knew Frannie’s father had insisted she stay in Wardall on a girls-only floor. If Justin lived in Townsend, the guys’ dorm, the couple could be together in the ISR common areas.

“He hasn’t decided yet.” Frannie didn’t quite meet Skye’s eyes. “He just found out yesterday, so everything is still up in the air.”

Skye was fairly sure Frannie and Justin had endlessly discussed their options. What were the two young people plotting? Mentally shrugging, she decided it wasn’t her problem. She was no longer their school psychologist; now she was just their friend, especially since she had finally persuaded both of them to call her by her first name instead of Ms. D.