Murder of a Small-Town Honey

had a brother in jail. 'I was told that I could visit him between six and eight.'

The woman smiled warmly. 'You must be Skye. I'm Betty. May and I know each other from dispatching. She told me all about you. Vince is really anxious to see you. Come on back and I'll take you to the jail.'

Betty met Skye on the other side of the door and guided her up a corridor and down some steps. A man in a tan deputy's uniform sat behind a desk, reading a newspaper and eating a sandwich.

Betty marched up and snatched the paper off the desk­top. 'Ed, this here is Skye Denison. Her mother is May Denison from the Scumble River P.D. She's here to visit her brother, Vince. You treat her nice, and there'll be cook­ ies for you tomorrow.'

Ed put his half-eaten sandwich down, wiped his hands on his pants, and stood up. 'Now, Betty, you're going to make this girl think I'm not nice to everyone.'

She sniffed and started back. 'You just remember she's got to come back by my desk, and I'll be asking her if she had a good visit.'

'Okay, Miss, you'll have to leave your purse here, and I got to ask if you have any concealed weapons on you.'

Shaking her head, Skye handed over her tote bag. 'I brought Vince a few magazines. Can I give them to him?'

'Let's see 'em.'

'They're in my tote, right on top.'

Ed examined the magazines, then turned them over and shook. A shower of subscription cards was the only thing to fall out. He handed the magazines to her. 'We haven't got a visiting room, so you'll have to sit in his cell. You can take that folding chair by the desk. You're lucky there's only one other prisoner—it's not too bad.'

Ed unlocked the steel door and led her into the jail. Skye followed, carrying the metal chair. The cell closest to the door held a short man with a barrel chest and shaved head. He appeared to have no neck. He lay on his cot with his eyes closed.

The next four cells were empty. Vince was in the last one, seated on the cot with his back supported by the beige cinder-block wall. The only other furnishings were a sink and a toilet without a seat.

While the deputy inserted the key he said, 'Vince, stay right where you are.' Turning to Skye, he explained, 'The prisoners are supposed to be leaning against the far wall whenever we open a door.'

Vince stayed seated and Skye walked in. She set up the chair. 'Is there anything else, Ed?'

'Nope. I'll leave the door by my desk open. Just yell when you're ready to leave.' He slammed the cell door and walked away.

Vince got off the bed and held out his arms. 'Thanks, Sis. I sure never wanted you to see me this way.'

Skye hugged him and gave him the magazines. 'Here, I thought you might need something to read. Is there any­thing else I can get you?'

'No, Mom and Dad brought some clothes and stuff. They get our meals from the local restaurants.' Vince sank back onto the bunk.

She tried to make herself comfortable on the metal chair. 'Tell me about the letter.'

'I wrote it after Honey started demanding more money. That letter was only meant as a bluff.'

Studying a scuff on her loafers, Skye avoided his eyes. 'You never were too good at poker. I used to clean you out of your allowance all the time.'

'Have you found out anything? Loretta said you gave her the names of some other people who had motive and opportunity.'

Looking over her shoulder, Skye lowered her voice. 'I had a date with Simon Reid on Sunday.'

'So? Is that the big secret?'

'He's the county coroner.'

'Yeah, I know, and he owns Reid's Funeral Home. How can you date someone who works with dead bodies?' Vince screwed up his face in distaste.

'Fine. How could you have slept with a woman who hit the floor anytime someone yelled 'hoedown'?' Skye shot back.

He ducked his head. 'Hey, let's not fight. This whole sit­uation is just so frustrating.'

'That's okay. I'm sorry too. But Simon seems like a re­ally nice guy. He knows how to keep a secret, and he's helping me investigate.'

Vince got up and went to the sink. He toyed with the handles on the faucet. 'How?'

'Simon was with me when I searched Honey's condo, and he told me the results of the autopsy.' Skye stared at the graffiti behind Vince's head. It claimed that Bubba loved Charlene.

'What did you find out? Where's my son?'

'I'm sorry, Vince, you don't have a son.' Skye was not happy to be the one to break the news to him. 'Honey lied. The autopsy showed she'd never been pregnant. She was sterile.'

His shoulders sagged. 'I think I always knew there was no child. She must have borrowed a baby that one time she

let me see him, and sent pictures of a friend's kid. Her bluff certainly worked better than mine did.'

'We did find a record of all her blackmailing activity.' Skye hastily added, 'Besides you, she was getting money from Lloyd Stark, Darleen Boyd, and Mike Young. I'm pretty sure what she had on Lloyd—he had an affair with her when she was his student—but I haven't got a clue what Darleen and Mike were paying her to keep quiet about. Do you have any ideas?'

Vince thought for a minute, pacing the length of the cell and back. 'What Darleen could have done I can't even imagine, but Honey used to hint about something she and Mike were up to.'

'We're guessing that whatever she was blackmailing him about took place after she left town. She may even have snuck back into Scumble River from time to time. Her records show that Mike didn't start paying until after he got out of prison, so I don't think it was about drugs. And it probably happened after she left town.' Skye paused, then asked, 'Can you think of anywhere she might have hidden something in town? Something that would give her the power to blackmail people?'

'Honey loved secrets and hiding and sneaking around. I think it was going behind Charlie's back that turned her on more than I did.'

'Where did you two, ah, you know, do it?' Skye asked, curious as to the mechanics of the situation. 'I mean, Char­lie owned the only motel. Neither of you had any privacy where you lived, and as I remember you drove a Camaro— not exactly roomy enough for sex.'

'She had a few places all decked out and ready. But each boyfriend only got to know about one of them. Our place was the boathouse at the recreational club.' Vince frowned. 'Wait a minute. I remember Honey talking about another of her rendezvous spots. She said 'Union' would be a good name for it.'

Skye thought hard. 'There's a lot of different ways you could take that. The Union versus the Confederacy, the union of two people in holy matrimony ...'

'That doesn't help much, does it?' Vince's voice re­flected his disappointment.

'It's on the tip of my tongue. It'll come to me if I think of something else.'

CHAPTER 23

Time in a Bottle

Vince kept urging Skye to leave before it got too late. He was worried about her lonely drive home. The roads between Laurel and Scumble River were rural and deserted at night. At quarter to eight, she gave in and called to the deputy.

After hugging Vince good-bye, she accompanied Ed out of the jail. As she walked by the guy in the first cell, she asked casually, 'What's he in for?'

Ed locked the door and grinned. 'That's a funny one, Miss. That fellow walked into the travel agency in town and asked for an airline ticket. Didn't care about the cost. He just wanted the next flight to Miami.

'The agent asked him the date of his return. He said no return, he wanted a one-way ticket. She wanted to know how he'd pay. He took out a roll of bills thick enough to choke a horse. They finished their business, he took the ticket and left. She figured it was sorta unusual, but. . . what the heck, it's a weird business.

'Except he came in the next week and they went through the same routine. This time she called us. We checked things out. Shot his description to the feds, and what do you know? He's wanted for drug smuggling in three states. We're holding him until their agent gets here.'