Murder of a Small-Town Honey

that she didn 't change when she moved away. It's also interesting that Honey hung around with Mike Young during his druggie period. And why doesn't anyone seem to know a thing about a child?

Skye decided she wanted May to use the police comput­ers to find out about Mr. and Mrs. Adair's accident and Mike Young's arrest record. Meanwhile, she was going to talk to some of the people who would have been in high school during Honey's senior year.

A low-pressure system had rolled in during the night, and the predawn skies were overcast and threatening rain. It was only eighty degrees, but the humidity remained near

100 percent. Skye's sinuses were throbbing, and she knew there would be a thunderstorm before the end of the day.

Her schedule called for Thursday mornings at the ele­mentary school, because of the PPS meeting at seven- thirty. Thanks to May's early wake-up call, Skye arrived in plenty of time. She had been told by Caroline Green, the principal, that the meetings were held in the special education class­room.

Standing awkwardly by the door, Skye was unsure of where to sit or what to do. She surveyed the room. Twelve desks were arranged in three pods of four each. The chairs were of molded orange plastic, designed for the height and build of six- and seven-year-old children. The sole adult chair was behind the teacher's desk.

Only a few minutes passed before Abby arrived, fol­lowed closely by two other women.

'Skye, have you met everyone?' Abby started to take the chairs off the top of the student desks.

'No, I haven't.'

Abby pointed to the woman at the teacher's desk, who was dressed in a full denim skirt and a white oxford- cloth blouse. 'This is Yvonne Smith, the special education teacher.' Turning to the other woman, who was now seated, Abby continued, 'And this is Belle Whitney, the speech therapist.'

Smiling, Skye sat down next to Belle. 'I'm Skye Deni-son, the new psychologist.'

Yvonne was what most people pictured when they thought of an elementary school teacher—round and soft, with a halo of gray-brown curls and a smiling face.

She carried the teacher chair over to where Skye was sit­ting, then settled in and patted Skye on the arm. 'Nice to meet you. I hope we'll see a lot of you down here. I could sure use some new ideas. The kids seem to get tougher every year.'

Belle nodded. 'Yes, and each year there are more kids who need help.'

The speech therapist looked like a whipped-cream factory that had exploded. She wore her pale-blond hair in elaborate curls and waves. Her white dress was made of a gauzy mate­rial, with rows of ruffles around the neck, sleeves, and hem. Even her eyeglasses had loops and curlicues on the frames.

Skye looked at her watch. It was quarter to eight. 'Does the principal usually attend these meetings?'

'If she remembers,' Abby answered. 'I didn't put a note in her box this time, so she probably won't show. We might as well get started.' Abby flipped open her notebook.

'Okay, I'll go first.' Yvonne poised her pencil over the list she had put on the table. 'Since this is only our ninth day of school, I don't have any kids to discuss, but the kindergarten teachers have asked for help with a fall screening.'

'What kind of help? Help administering the test?' Skye leaned over to look at Yvonne's paper.

Yvonne nodded. 'That, too, but first they need a test to administer.'

'They don't like the instrument they have now? Do you know if they're looking for something that measures readi­ness skills or processing abilities?' Skye rummaged in her tote, looking for a test catalog.

Yvonne laughed, not unkindly. 'We've never had kinder­garten screening before. There is no test to like or dislike. They probably don't even know what they want to assess. My advice would be to start with something that tells them if the kids are ready for kindergarten. Looking at memory or the ability to distinguish one sound from another is more information than they would know what to do with at this point.'

'Oh.' Skye was overwhelmed by the idea of single-handedly setting up a screening for 150 five-year-olds. 'I guess I'd better talk to the kindergarten teachers myself.'

She flipped through her appointment book. 'How about next Tuesday before school?'

After making a note, Yvonne patted Skye's arm again. 'Don't worry, I'll let them know that's when you're free and they'll be there.'

'I'd like to attend too, if that's okay?' Belle looked up from her own appointment book. 'Since I have to screen all kindergartners for speech and language delays anyway, maybe we can pick a test that will do double duty.'

'That would be great.' Skye's pencil hovered. 'Is Tues­day morning all right with you?'

'It's fine. I'll bring some test catalogs.' Belle made a note in the margin of her book.

Abby said, 'I'll be doing the vision and hearing screen­ings on Monday.'

'Do you screen the whole school?' asked Skye.

'Almost. I test all the kids in special education, all the kindergartners, all the new kids who have moved in, and all of the third and fifth grades.'

'Is there anything else? It's almost nine o'clock, so the kids will be here any minute.' Yvonne stood.

Skye handed each of the women a list of twenty-six names. 'These are the children who are past due for reeval-uation. We all have a part in the case study, so I wanted to know what timetable you all would like to follow in getting these assessments up to code.'

'Well, I don't have any part in a case study,' Yvonne said, picking up her chair.

Skye tried to decide the best way of phrasing her re­quest. 'I know you haven't been consulted in the past, but that really was a waste of knowledge. Who knows these kids better than you? We need your input, and I was think­ing that maybe you could do the section titled 'Current Ed­ucational Functioning.''

'But I wouldn't have any idea how to write that type of report.' Yvonne let the chair drop.

'I'll give you a model to go by.' It was Skye's turn to pat Yvonne's arm.

After a moment Yvonne nodded. 'Okay, I've always said you guys didn't listen enough to what the teacher had to say about the student you were evaluating. I guess it's time to put my money where my mouth is. This will give me a chance to be heard.'

Skye was surprised at how easy that had been. She turned to Abby. 'Lloyd mentioned that you do the health history, since we don't have a social worker, and I do the adaptive part. Is this how it works in all the schools?'

'That's how we've done it in the past. But I was think­ing—I have to talk to the parents anyway, so if you gave me the social history form you want to use, I could ask them the questions on it and you could use that for your re­port. It would save both you and the parents some time.'

'I'd owe you big time. I was dreading that aspect of the job. Why don't they hire a social worker?' Skye looked at all three women.

'We've tried,' Abby answered. 'We put ads in the pro­fessional social work journals and the Chicago newspapers. Last year we even sent a representative to the school social worker convention. Not one person signed up to be inter­viewed.'

'But why?' Skye asked. 'The salary is a little low, but not that far out of alignment.'

Abby and Belle looked at each other. Abby nudged Belle with her elbow. 'I think we've been blackballed.'

Everyone laughed.

'Seriously, the social workers we've had since I've been here wanted everything to be their own way, and that's just not going to happen in Scumble River. When you add the fact that they were all outsiders, and no one in town would tell them anything ...' Abby looked to the others for con­firmation.

Belle nodded. 'I've lived here for ten years, and people

are only now beginning to trust me. And I don't ask them personal questions.'

'It is an advantage, having lived here all of my life.' Abby stood. 'Half the time I don't even have to ask ques­ tions, I already know all the dirt.'

Skye tapped the list she was holding. 'Back to my origi­nal question. When, and at what rate, are we going to tackle this list?'

No one answered.

'How about three a month? Since the three of us are all split among three schools, I figure we're all here about a day and a half a week.'

Everyone nodded.