Murder of a Small-Town Honey

'Okay, Lloyd definitely has something to hide. He was really ticked off that I called the police after his office was ransacked, and he threatened to have me fired when I asked about his past relationship with Honey.

'It would have been awkward for me to ask him directly about his whereabouts, so I called his wife and pretended to be Barb, from the paper. As Barb, I told her the Star was planning on running a picture taken while the parade was being set up, and I was trying to identify the people in the photo. I said I thought one of them was Lloyd but couldn't tell for sure. She told me Lloyd wasn't feeling well that day and stayed home while she and the kids went to the pa­rade.'

May got up to throw away her empty soda can. 'Is there anyone in town you don't suspect?'

'Vince. I know he's innocent, and I'm going to prove it,' Skye answered seriously. Her voice softened as she continued, 'I do wonder about Charlie. After all, he does inherit a lot of money, and Vince said that Charlie has been short of cash lately. Maybe you could find out where he was before I found the body.'

May put her hands on her hips. 'Come on. That's going too far. Charlie would never do anything to hurt Vince or you.'

'True, but he couldn't have known Vince would be im­plicated.'

'How about the fact that the shears had the name of the shop on them? That definitely makes it look like whoever did it was trying to point to Vince.'

Skye paused. 'Well, that could be the case, but it could also be that whoever plunged those scissors into Honey did it on the spur of the moment and didn't know they were en­graved. The question is how they were removed from Vince's shop—and if the police lab found any fingerprints on them.'

'No prints. They were wiped clean.' May began straightening papers and putting files away. 'So, is there anyone else on your list?'

'Mike Young. He was roaming around taking pictures for the paper that day, so he has no alibi. Maybe she knew something about his past—when they were in high school together.'

'How was your date with him last night?' May looked at Skye with hope in her eyes.

'Okay. He is nice-looking, but he's pretty chauvinistic and he quotes the Bible all the time. Abby sure didn't seem to like him.'

'Are you going to see him again?'

'I don't think so. He asked me to attend the Tuesday

night service at his church, but I'm going to pass. In fact, I think I'll stop at his studio on my way home. I can thank him for taking me out and at the same time tell him I'm busy Tuesday. Also, I seem to have misplaced my sun­glasses. Maybe he remembers where I left them.' Skye stood up and started walking toward the door.

May asked plaintively, 'Am I ever going to hear wed­ding bells?'

'Only if you start to have auditory hallucinations,' Skye shot back.

At that moment the chime over the front door jingled. Skye and May looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Chief Boyd rounded the counter and stopped dead. 'What's going on with you two?'

Glancing guiltily at Skye, May couldn't meet his eyes. 'Nothing. We were just, ah ... ah.'

Skye interrupted, 'I just stopped in to say hi. I've got to be going now.'

She was nearly through the gate when May rushed over. 'You forgot this.' She was waving the magazine with the reports still hidden inside.

'Oh, right. Thanks, Mom. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.' Skye showed the cover to Chief Boyd. 'I'm trying to get some decorating ideas for the new place. You know, rugs, drapes, flowers . .. that sort of thing. 'Bye, Mom. I'll call you later at home. 'Bye, Chief.'

CHAPTER 18

Make Believe

Skye sat in her car for a few minutes, trying to slow her heartbeat and catch her breath. Clearly she was not cut out for a life of crime.

Driving carefully to Mike's studio, she was half afraid Chief Boyd would tail her. After parking, she combed her hair, powdered her nose, and put on lipstick before ap­proaching the door. Just because she didn't want to go out with the guy didn't mean that she didn't want him to want to go out with her.

There was no one in the waiting room, so she tapped on the closed connecting door.

Mike's voice yelled, 'I'm in the darkroom. Have a seat. I'll be out in a couple of minutes.'

She yelled back. 'It's only me, Skye Denison. Don't rush.'

For a moment Skye wondered if she smelled smoke but decided she was just overwrought. As she sat on the sofa and leaned toward the table of magazines, she noticed an ashtray with the Red Lobster logo. She turned to the end ta­bles and spotted two other ashtrays, also with restaurant names on them.

Gee, I wonder which Bible verse says it's okay to steal?

It was only two o'clock, and Skye had already tried watching TV and reading. Nothing seemed to hold her in­ terest. Finally she gave in and decided to go visit Charlie. She still had a lot of unanswered questions.

When she pulled into the motor court's parking lot, the first thing she saw was a white Lexus with gold trim, the nsame one she had encountered at the grocery store. She con­sidered turning around and going home, but curiosity won out and she climbed the steps.

Charlie had cleaned up after Wednesday's vandalism. The carpeting had been tacked back down, the furniture righted, and the books replaced on their shelves. The only evidence of that night's destruction was the squares of lighter-colored paint on the walls where pictures had hung.

Simon and Charlie were sitting on the sofa, paging through what at first looked like a book of wallpaper sam­ples. When Charlie saw Skye at the screen door, he motioned her inside. Not knowing what to expect, she reluctantly pushed the door open and headed for a chair.

'Come sit over here, sweetheart. I need you to help me pick things out for Honey's funeral.'

Reluctantly, Skye went to the couch and sat in the only space available, next to Simon. 'What's going on, Uncle Charlie?'

'When Simon called this afternoon to let me know they were finished with the autopsy and were going to release Honey's body tomorrow, I asked if his funeral parlor could handle the arrangements. He said yes and offered to bring me these books tonight so I wouldn't have to find a ride over to him. Wasn't that obliging?'

'Very,' said Skye, thinking to herself, So, Mr. Simon Reid, you've heard about Charlie's inheritance. She looked at Simon and said aloud, 'How kind of you, but Charlie knows my parents or I would be glad to drive him anywhere he wants to go.'

Simon sat back, looking totally at ease. 'Oh, it's noth­ing. I often go to people's houses to make the arrange­ments. It's so hard for older people to get around. That's why I got these books made up. It makes the whole process somewhat easier.'

'I've got the cemetery plot already,' Charlie said. 'I bought it when her folks died. There's plenty of room for Honey, and me too when it's my time.' He pointed to a pic­ture of a casket on the open page in Simon's lap. 'I thought this white one would be nice, with pink satin lining. Do you think it's okay?'

Skye noticed that it was one of the most expensive on the page. 'Did Simon suggest that one?'

Simon shot her a look before answering smoothly, 'I try not to influence people's selections. It's such a personal matter.'

She wondered if he was intimating that she had no busi­ness helping Charlie choose. 'It's kind of expensive. I'm sure Mr. Reid could show you something a little simpler.'

Before Simon could speak Charlie said, 'I didn't like the cheap ones he showed me first. After all, she was a TV star. We don't want the Chicago people who come to her funeral to think we're hicks.'

Skye noticed that Charlie's eyes were tearing up. 'That one would be perfect.'

Simon put the catalog he was holding on the coffee table and took another from the briefcase at his feet. Skye no­ticed that the attache was made of expensive Italian leather.

He opened the new volume. 'Now for the headstone.'

Skye and Charlie looked closely as he turned the pages. Coming to the last page, Simon gazed at them expectantly.

'Skye, which did you like?' Charlie asked.

'Well, Simon is right. It's a very personal decision,' hedged Skye.

Charlie looked at her helplessly. 'I've always thought of you like a daughter. Who else could I ask?'