“Just as we suspected. Now the question becomes, why was my grandmother left in her bed, but Mrs. Jankowski dumped in the well?”
He leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “My guess is that whoever did it thought your grandmother’s death would be written off to old age, and no one would bother to find some poor Polish woman with no relatives or friends.”
“Or maybe they didn’t expect Mrs. Jankowski to die. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to get hold of the brownies.” Skye, too, leaned forward, lowering her voice. “My aunts were always fighting about what Mrs. J ate. They’d bring a plate of cookies for Grandma, who would eat one or two, and then Mrs. J would polish off the rest.”
“If I remember correctly, the contents of both stomachs were similar.”
“Did you find anything when you went through the house?”
“Yes. Someone had been violently ill, but the mess had been cleaned up. This supports the physical evidence the doctor found the day she was murdered. He found signs that she had vomited, but had been cleaned up. We found dirty rags, one of your grandmother’s dresses, and a set of her underclothing. It was all stuffed down that well.”
“That was what Simon was referring to the night of the murder when he said they had found irregularities.”
A line formed between Wally’s brows. “This is the way I think it went down. The murderer brought over the poisoned brownies. Gave them to your grandma to eat, waited, and when she got sick, cleaned her up. This person changed her into her nightgown and put her to bed.”
“Where was Mrs. J while this was going on?” Skye shredded a napkin.
The chief twiddled the straw in his drink. “The murderer must have told her to relax, they would take care of your grandmother. And while she waited, Mrs. J ate a brownie.”
“Did the killer clean her up too?”
The chief shook his head. “Nope, just stuffed her down the well, along with her belongings, and the remaining brownies.”
“So, the murderer went back inside, straightened up, and then disposed of the rest of the evidence.”
Wally shrugged. “That’s how it looks.”
“Any suspects besides my family?”
“No, it’s pretty unlikely that it was an outsider.” He took a swallow of his Coke. “It’s also damn hard to find the killer when it’s a family member. Everyone sticks together, and no one will say anything about the other.”
“Whoever did it had to be strong enough to get that well cover on and off. That eliminates the women.” Skye ate a spoonful of her melting ice cream.
“Maybe not. We found signs that a chain and a car were used to move the well cover.”
“And you said a wagon was used to move Mrs. J’s body so I guess that means anyone could have managed it physically.”
They were silent as Skye ate her sundae and the chief finished his drink.
Skye scraped the last drizzle of chocolate from the container and wiped her lips with her napkin. “Thanks for telling me all this.”
Wally pushed the debris to one side of the table. “You know I trust you.”
She felt her face get hot and half rose from the booth. “Well, I’d better get going.”
“Could you stay a little while longer?”
“Sure.”
“Did you hear the dedication on CCQ?”
Skye nodded. “The song about having a bad day?”
“Yes.” Wally looked down at his clenched hands. “I thought I saw you drive by and hoped you had your radio tuned to WCCQ. I really wanted to talk to you.”
Skye sat back down. “Okay.”
“Darleen’s left me.”
“Oh.” Skye couldn’t think of anything to say. The pain in his eyes made her want to reach out and comfort him, but deep down she knew that wasn’t a good idea so she settled for saying, “I’m so sorry.”
He buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t see it coming, but now that I look back I wonder how dumb I could be. She’s never been a happy person.”
“No, from the little I know her, I’d say she has a lot of characteristics of someone who is chronically depressed.” Skye frowned. She probably should have tried harder to connect with Darleen and gotten her some help.
As if reading her mind, Wally said, “I made her see a therapist and counselors, but she never cooperated with them.”
“You really can’t help someone who isn’t ready.” Skye felt as if she were trying to walk on bubble wrap without popping any of the air pockets. “What happened that made her leave?”
“Well, you know that she’s always wanted to have kids and we’ve never been able to?”
Skye nodded, remembering Darleen’s desperation to have a baby. It had almost been Darleen’s downfall last autumn during a murder investigation.
“She met a guy in her Bible study group whose wife died in childbirth. He already had two small children and now a newborn . . .”
“So she’s in love?” Skye sighed. “The maternal instinct is a tough one to overcome.”
“Yes.” Wally reached across the table and took Skye’s hands. “I feel so helpless.”
Looking down at their intertwined hands, Skye searched for the right words. “I don’t know what to say. Did you just find out?”
He squeezed her fingers. “Everything was gone when I got home from work today.”
“How devastating.” Skye felt a weight on her chest as she gazed into his pain-filled eyes.
“She took everything but my clothes—all the furniture, appliances, kitchen stuff, even the shower curtain. I’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight. Why would she be so vicious?” he asked.
“People do strange things in the heat of the moment. Could be she just wanted you to know she was serious about this. Maybe, after things cool down a little, you two can talk and work something out.”
They were silent again. Skye hesitated. She never talked about her broken engagement, but she finally said, “I know how much it hurts. The day I got the notice that I had been fired, I got home and found my fiance had moved out.”
“The bastard.”
Skye got up. “You do get over it, although there is always a small pain. A reminder.”
He followed her. “It’d be a hard thing to forget.”
They deposited their trash in the bin and walked outside. Skye unlocked her car door and slid inside.
Wally stood at the window. “Are you sure it gets better?”
She nodded.
“I’m trusting you on this.” He stared into her eyes.
Skye caught her breath and struggled to keep her voice even. “I’ve been there. Call me if you need to talk.”
“I might take you up on that.” Wally leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers.
Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away.
Skye raised fingers to her tingling lips. She felt confused. Wally was all wrong for her. He’d never leave Scumble River. If she were with him, she’d be stuck here forever. Simon was closer to her own age, single, well-off, and more urbane. Everything a woman could ask for. Then why did her heart flutter whenever Wally was around?
Sunday afternoon, one of Skye’s favorite times of the week. All the obligations taken care of and still not near Monday morning. She smiled and stretched, snuggling into her chaise lounge, and enjoying the sensation of being back in her own cottage. Everything was perfect. Simon was sitting in the matching chair and the weather was exactly right for being out on the deck. Brunch had been great. He always found the best new restaurants to try. They had gone for a drive through Kankakee State Park, and when they got back they’d found that her windows had
