Murder of a Stacked Librarian (20 page)

“I’m Chief Boyd and this is Ms. Denison, the police department psychological consultant.” Wally’s voice was unruffled and his posture was relaxed, but his hand rested on his nightstick. “We’d like to speak to you about your neighbor Yvonne Osborn.”

“The other cop already talked to me.” King leaned heavily on his cane.

“We have a few more questions to ask you.” Wally took a step forward, but Housley didn’t budge. “I understand that you two were having problems because you felt that she was spying on you.”

“So?” Housley’s tone was surly. “No one cared when I called the station and complained that she was a freaking Peeping Tammy.”

“I apologize, and I’ll look into why your complaint was ignored.” Wally moved closer to the threshold. “Our questions will only take a few minutes.”

“Go ahead.” King grimaced. “But make it quick. I’m having a bad day with the pain and all, and it’s almost time for my pill.”

“Why don’t we go inside, where you can be more comfortable?” Skye pasted a concerned expression on her face.

“You got a warrant?” King blocked their entrance. “In fact, I changed my mind. I’m through talking to you people.”

“I don’t think so.” Wally stuck his foot in the doorway, whipped out his phone, and said, “Take a look at this, Mr. Housley.”

As King focused in on the little screen, his face reddened. Suddenly, he raised his cane and swung it toward Wally, who ducked, grabbed the walking stick in midswipe, and hauled the man out onto the front porch. When Housley attempted to run, Wally grabbed him by the shirt collar, spun him around, and handcuffed him.

King ranted about his rights until Wally said, “I guess now we’ll do this at the station.” Turning to Skye, he directed, “See if Housley’s wife is around and if she has the key to the gate.”

“Don’t you give it to them, Hazel!” Housley screamed. “You hear me?”

Skye found Housley’s wife in the kitchen. The tiny woman was seated at a table, gripping a dish towel in her gnarled fingers. Although the appliances and furniture had seen better days, everything was spotless. This lady’s cleaning habits would give May a run for her money.

Hazel didn’t look up when Skye approached her, but she sobbed, “King didn’t kill that librarian.” Apparently, Mrs. Housley had been eavesdropping on the drama that had taken place on her front porch. “The radio said she died sometime between four and six. Me and King were in Clay Center the afternoon of Christmas Eve from three thirty to past seven.”

“Can anyone else verify that?” Skye asked. She instinctively knew that the woman would lie for her husband, but whether it would be out of love, loyalty, or fear, she wasn’t sure. Maybe a combination of all three. “Preferably someone not related to your husband.”

“Yeah.” Hazel smoothed the towel and folded it in a precise square. “We were at our church over to Clay Center. The little kids put on a Nativity play, and then there was a potluck. We sat with the minister and his family.”

“That’s good, then.” Skye patted the woman’s shoulder. “But there’s still the matter of the attempted assault on a police officer.”

“Could the chief forget about that?” Hazel’s faded blue eyes had a sly glint. “If I was able to tell him something that happened at Ms. Osborn’s, maybe he’d be inclined to sort of pretend King just slipped.”

“That depends.” Skye didn’t know what kind of bargain Wally would be able to make. “Was it something that happened recently?”

“The day before she was killed.” Hazel straightened. “The chief will want to know this. You go ask him if he’s willing to make a deal.”

Skye figured there was a good chance Wally might be prepared to forget that King had attacked him, but she was positive he couldn’t let Housley skate on the fake disability claim. That was fraud, and it was costing the taxpayers a bundle.

After telling Hazel that she’d be right back, Skye went outside and asked Wally to handcuff his prisoner to the porch swing so they could speak privately. Once Housley was secure and they were out of earshot, Skye informed Wally of Hazel’s offer to exchange information for her husband’s freedom.

Before Wally could respond, Skye took a breath and added, “Obviously we need to keep King and his wife separated since she’s unaware we know he isn’t really injured.”

“We can take them both to the station.” Wally reached for the radio attached to his shoulder. “I’ll call for an additional squad car.”

“My professional opinion is that you shouldn’t wait for another officer to get here. If you don’t act right now, before Hazel has a chance to think it over, she might change her mind.” Skye paused, then continued. “Remember, it looks as if Housley has an alibi for the murder, so his wife may figure that he can wiggle out of the attempted assault charge, too. And there was some reason she didn’t initially come forward with this info.”

“Most likely because she didn’t want to get involved.” Wally shrugged. “A lot of people don’t.”

“Maybe.” Skye considered his explanation. “Still, if you want to make a deal with her on the attempted-assault charge, you probably should do it now.” She raised a brow. “What’s the old saying? Strike while the wife is hot?”

“Cute.” Wally glanced at the still ranting man. “But I don’t think it’s wise to leave him alone. He could slip the cuffs and take off.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Skye studied King’s posture. “I think he’s wearing himself out.”

“Well.” Wally hesitated, then reached down to his ankle holster and handed Skye his backup weapon, a Ruger .357 compact revolver. “Do you remember how to use this?” When she nodded, he added, “Stay out of his reach and yell for me if there’s a problem.”

“Got it.” Skye tried to recall the afternoon that Wally had taken her shooting. “Go ahead.” She really did need to start going to the gun range with him, and not just to protect him from Emmy.

Once Wally had disappeared into the house, King abruptly settled down, took a seat on the swing he was cuffed to, and asked Skye, “You and him think I killed that nosy woman next door, don’t you?”

“No,” Skye answered honestly, although she wasn’t about to admit she knew he had an alibi. “But I’m curious what you two fought about.”

“Why?” King squinted. “You another meddlesome busybody like her?”

“I just like to understand things.” Skye shrugged her shoulders. “It’s sort of what a psychologist is all about. Was it because she suspected you weren’t really injured and threatened to turn you in?”

“That sounds like a motive for murder.” King’s expression turned guarded. “You trying to railroad me into a confession or something?”

“Not at all.” Skye lowered herself to the front step, turning toward King so that she still had a direct line of fire. Then, assuming her best counseling air, she said, “I want to catch the real killer.”

“Sure. And I’ve got a genuine diamond ring to sell you for twenty bucks. I’ll throw in the earrings for free.” When Skye didn’t react, he asked, “Hey, why does a one-horse town like Scumble River have a fancy psychologist on the police payroll anyway?”

“Good question.” Skye wasn’t sure how to answer, so she tried humor. “One the mayor asks all the time, even though he is my uncle.”

Housley didn’t crack a smile.

“I guess because in the past I helped solve a few murder cases.” Skye shrugged and added, “And my services come cheap.”

“Cheap always works.” King twitched his shoulders. “At least for most folks.” He looked at Skye for a couple of seconds, then seemed to come to some sort of decision. Exhaling noisily, he said, “The witch next door might have seen me out working on my truck. And she might have said something about me not really being hurt. But she didn’t have any proof because after that I was real careful that she wasn’t around before I did anything outside. Plus, since she was moving away next month, I had no reason to kill her.”

“That’s a good point.” Skye leaned forward, thought a moment, then asked, “Were you the one who phoned into the
Star
saying that Ms. Osborn better mind her own business or she’d regret it?”

“Yeah.” King hunched his head into his chest. “I got liquored up after I caught her spying on me and called. It was dumb.”

“Alcohol seems to have that effect on a lot of people,” Skye sympathized.

“Ain’t that the truth?” Housley was silent until Wally emerged from the house; then he said, “So, what did the old lady say?”

Wally ignored him and asked Skye, “You okay?” When she nodded, he whispered in her ear, “King’s alibi checks out. I called the minister, and he verified that the Housleys were with him during the relevant time period.”

“Good.” Skye wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed.

Wally held up a small key. “Martinez is at the end of the lane. You keep an eye on Housley and I’ll walk down and let her in.”

Ten minutes later, two Scumble River squad cars pulled up. Martinez got out of one and Wally exited from the other. While he transferred King into the young officer’s custody and instructed her to hold the prisoner at the PD until he arrived, Skye got into Wally’s cruiser.

Skye waited until Wally finished with Martinez, then got into the car and phoned the city attorney and the mayor to inform them about King’s scam before she asked, “So did Mrs. Housley say anything that might help us find the killer?”

“Possibly.” Wally flipped open his notepad and read, “Last Saturday afternoon, she was walking in the woods between her land and the vic’s property and witnessed a man park what she described as a big fancy SUV in Yvonne Osborn’s driveway and walk toward her front door. When the vic stepped outside, the guy started yelling and waving a crowbar at her.”

“Did the man attack her?”

“The vic had a shotgun and forced the guy to leave.” Wally started the Caprice.

“Was he Yvonne’s husband?”

Wally shrugged. “Mrs. Housley said he had on a baseball cap and sunglasses, so she could only describe him as white and sort of bulky. She has no idea of his age or if his hair was gray or even his height. She said from the distance she was at, she just couldn’t tell if he was short or tall.”

“Neil Osborn is fairly muscular.”

“Yes, he is.”

“What was the man shouting at Yvonne about?” Skye put her hands to the car’s vents. She’d gotten chilly being outside for so long.

“Mrs. Housley was too far away to hear what he was saying.” Wally turned up the heat.

“What year was the guy’s SUV and what color was it?”

“All Mrs. Housley could say was that it was new and white. So—” Wally was about to continue, when his cell phone rang. He answered it, listened, and said, “Okay. Thanks. But he’ll be there tomorrow? Great. Thanks again.” He hung up and put the phone in his pocket. “That was Neil Osborn’s secretary,” he told Skye with a scowl. “Her boss just called her from the development site to say he has to go into the city for something.”

“So he won’t be in Lawnton.” Skye pursed her lips. With Hazel’s information about some guy threatening Yvonne, Wally would be even more anxious to talk to Neil. “Did he say where in Chicago he’s going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Wally put the squad car in gear. “I guess we’ll have to wait and talk to him tomorrow morning.”

“At least you can take care of the Housley situation ASAP.” Skye tapped Wally’s arm. “You can meet Uncle Dante and the city attorney at the PD right away and get the whole matter settled. You won’t have to keep the mayor waiting.”

“Always a good thing.” Wally smiled at her. “And it looks as if you can make your nail appointment after all.”

CHAPTER 18

Chapter and Verse

S
kye was in luck. The Scumble River Spa hadn’t rebooked her mani/pedi slot, and she was able to reclaim her original appointment. It was heavenly to relax while her feet and hands were being pampered, and she didn’t once think about the murder investigation. Instead, she chilled out, daydreamed about her wedding day and honeymoon, and thoroughly unwound.

By six fifteen, her fingernails gleaming a pale pink and her toenails sparkling a deep berry, Skye headed home. Trixie, Frannie, and Loretta were picking her up in half an hour, and she had to feed Bingo and change clothes before they arrived.

Because neither Wally nor Skye was interested in going to a club or seeing exotic dancers, they had asked their best man and matron of honor to combine the bachelor and bachelorette parties and hold the event at a PGrated location. Quentin had been happy to oblige and offered to cover the cost of both. Trixie had pouted for several weeks because she’d wanted to rent a male stripper, but she had eventually come around and taken over the planning for the whole extravaganza.

The invitations had instructed everyone to wear green if they were romantically available, red if they were unavailable, and yellow if they weren’t sure. Skye’s dress was scarlet. She’d selected it because of the flouncy ruffle that hung in a vee from the scoop neck to the waist, which added a bit of oomph while camouflaging any figure flaws.

The parties were taking place at Scumble River’s Jupiter Movie Theater, which had been built in 1939. At the time, the structure had been state-of-the-art construction with masonry and plaster walls over steel, steam heating, and even air-conditioning. The Jupiter had closed in the midseventies and reopened only last September.

The stage, ceiling, entrance, and ticket booth, along with the architectural fixtures, remained unchanged, but the theater was now divided into two. On one screen, the guys would watch
X-Men: The Last Stand,
and on the other, the women would view
The Devil Wears Prada
. Trixie had assured Skye that both movies were the year’s hottest releases.

Afterward, the guests would adjourn to the huge lobby, where Trixie had arranged for rented lounge furniture to be set up. She’d also booked a jazz quartet, ordered food, and hired a bartender. Evidently, Quentin’s budget for the event had been nearly bottomless. Either that or Trixie hadn’t presented him with the bills yet. Skye tended to believe the former, considering what she knew about Wally’s family.

All thoughts about the cost of the party flew from Skye’s mind when she and her attendants arrived at the Jupiter and saw that the marquee read: LOVE, LAUGHTER, AND HAPPILY EVER AFTER. STARRING WALLY BOYD AND SKYE DENISON. Fighting joyful tears, she thanked her friends. It had taken her a long time to figure out what she wanted from life. Wally and a home in Scumble River was the dream she’d been pursuing all along but could never quite articulate. Now that she knew, she would never let go.