“Okay, you’re probably right. I’m too tired to think straight.”
The door finally opened and Skye trudged wearily inside. On her way into the great room that acted as her living and dining areas, she threw her purse on a table.
She watched Simon scan the room. It was half of the large octagon shape that made up the cottage. The outer arc was comprised of windows and sliding glass doors that faced the river. He made sure they were all locked, with bars across their tracks, before moving on. Skye trailed behind him.
The bedroom was a quarter of the octagon and also had a set of sliding glass doors with windows on either side looking over the water. He secured these and checked out the closet and bathroom.
The only remaining space was the small kitchen/utility area that looked out on the driveway, and the half bath off the foyer. Both were empty.
Skye, following Simon, bumped into him when he stopped in the foyer. “Sorry.”
He put his arms around her. “Make sure you turn the dead bolt and put on the chain when I leave.”
Skye nodded mutely, having trouble keeping her eyelids open.
Simon kissed her softly on the lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow after you’ve been to the police station.” He turned and spoke over his shoulder as he went through the door. “Don’t forget you’re supposed to be there at eight.”
Skye locked up behind him, turned, and made her way into the master bathroom.
Her alarm buzzed at six, its usual time. Skye reached out and slapped it off. A few seconds later she forced herself out of bed and grabbed the telephone. After letting the schools know she wouldn’t be in due to a death in the family, she crawled back between the sheets.
The next time she awoke, the numbers on her clock radio glowed seven-thirty. She leaped out of bed and into the shower, stripping off her nightgown on the way. The hot water revived her and she soaped, shampooed, and rinsed quickly.
After toweling her body and hair, she threw on underclothes then stood at her closet, stymied. What should she wear to be fingerprinted, taking into account it was the day after her grandmother died and it was going to be hotter than heck out?
As she contemplated her inadequate wardrobe, her glance fell on the clock. Damn, she was going to be late and she still hadn’t done her hair or put on any makeup.
Skye dialed the nonemergency number for the police. She had it memorized since she often called her mother when May was working at the station.
Thea Jones, another of Scumble River’s dispatchers, answered. At the sound of Skye’s voice she said, “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for your family. You know, we all love May. She’s gonna take it real hard. She was real close to her mama.”
“Thanks, Thea. Could you let Chief Boyd know I’m going to be a little late? He wanted me there at eight, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to make it until eight-thirty or quarter to nine.” Skye stretched the cord and grabbed a black-and-white gingham skort outfit from her closet.
“Sure, honey. You take your time. That man ain’t got nothin’ else to do anyways.”
The doorbell rang as Skye hung up the phone. She grabbed her robe and fought her way into it as she ran to the foyer. May’s face was framed in the side window.
Skye released all the locks and ushered her mother inside. “Hi, what are you doing here so early?” As soon as the words passed her lips, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.
“Early? You call five to eight early? We’ve got to do something about those slovenly habits you picked up in New Orleans.”
Skye edged back toward her bedroom. “Okay, okay. What’s up?”
“I came to drive you to the police station. Your dad’s still working on the tires.” May followed closely on Skye’s heels. “What are you wearing?” May was dressed impeccably in navy cotton slacks and a white blouse.
Skye held up the ensemble she had picked out.
May puckered her mouth. “You know, honey, since you’ve gained weight, do you really think you should wear things that are sleeveless and above the knee?”
Skye frowned. About eighteen months ago she had decided to exit from the diet roller coaster. At first she had gained quite a bit of weight, but then she’d reached her setpoint. She exercised regularly and now felt comfortable with who she was.
Ignoring her mother, Skye took the outfit and walked into the bathroom. When she emerged twenty minutes later, she was wearing her original choice, had styled her hair in a French braid, and wore her usual makeup.
May didn’t comment.
Thea grabbed May in a hug as soon as Skye and her mother entered the police station, then drew May behind the counter, sat her down, and began to converse in low tones. Skye was left to find Chief Boyd on her own.
Obviously, Tuesdays were slow days for criminal activity in Scumble River. The building seemed deserted and so quiet that Skye could hear the rustle of paper as she approached the chief’s office.
He looked up as she entered. “Glad you could finally find time in your busy schedule for us.”
Sighing, Skye sat on one of the visitor chairs. “Sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear the litany of excuses any more than I want to go through them.”
Chief Boyd made a note in a file and stuck it in a drawer. “You’re right. I’m in a bad mood today and didn’t mean to take it out on you. Let’s start over.”
She wiggled, trying to get comfortable in the cracked leather seat. “Thanks. How come you’re in a bad mood? I hope it’s not because I insisted on an autopsy for my grandmother.”
“No, personal problems.” His face closed and he lost all expression.
Skye knew he and his wife, Darleen, had been having difficulties with their marriage for the last year or so, but she thought things had gotten better. “I know how tough that can be. Maybe you both should talk to a counselor.”
“Are you volunteering your services as a psychologist?” He raised an eyebrow.
Blushing, Skye shook her head. “No. I’m only qualified to work with children and their parents. But I could give you a name of a very good therapist who specializes in couples.”
He moved around the desk and sat on the edge. His knees were a fraction of an inch from hers. “I thought maybe you couldn’t take the case because you were too close to the people involved.”
Turning a deeper shade of red, Skye tried to find the words to answer him. “Well, ah, that too. After all, I’ve known you since I was a teenager and I work with Darleen.”
She felt herself getting lost in the depth of his brown eyes. It felt as if something were sitting on her chest. Of all the men she knew, why did this one have to be married?
The sound of a throat being cleared in the doorway stopped her before she could speak.
Skye’s eyes darted in that direction, and she met her mother’s worried gaze. She stood up and turned to May. “Mom, we were, ah, filling out the report about my tires.”
May smiled thinly. “Fine. I’ll help.”
Chief Boyd went back behind his desk and pulled out a partially completed form. “So, Skye, give me a list of all the people you’ve recently infuriated.”
CHAPTER 5
There Was a Crooked Man
The phone was ringing as Skye unlocked the door to her cottage later that morning.
She hesitated, figuring it was either more bad news or one of her relatives calling to yell at her about last night.
Tugging Skye’s arm, May pulled them both into the kitchen. “You’d better hurry and answer the phone before they hang up.”
She sighed, and lifted the receiver. After a few minutes of conversation she said good-bye and turned to her
