She finally said, “Sorry, Chief Boyd. It won’t happen again. But I did want to speak to you about . . .” Suddenly her mind went blank. What was it she wanted?
May quickly filled in. “You want to know about Lorelei’s autopsy and when the body will be released.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Skye smiled. That’s one of the nice things about living in a small town. Even if you don’t know what you’re doing, someone else probably does. “So, can you fill me in?” Skye asked.
“No.”
“What?” Skye couldn’t believe what she had heard.
“I said no. You have no right to that information.”
“I see.” Skye could feel her temper rising. She’d wanted to yell at Wally for a long time. The only thing that had stopped her was that he was in the right. She
“Good.” He had been standing in the doorway between the dispatcher’s office and the interrogation room. Now he moved toward the other door leading to the stairs.
Skye followed him. “So how am I supposed to help the kids deal with Lorelei’s death if I don’t know what really happened, or even when she’ll be buried?”
He shrugged. “That’s not my problem.”
“No, it’s mine and the community’s.” Skye tried to speak evenly.
“You just want an excuse to nose around and play Sherlock Holmes.”
“That’s not true.” She shushed the small voice inside her head that told her she might be lying. “If this isn’t handled right, we could have a rash of suicides in response to Lorelei’s death.” Skye knew she was exaggerating, but it was possible. It had happened. She had read about it in the literature.
“I think all that crap about grieving and the seven stages and all that is just hooey you shrinks thought up to make a lot of money,” Wally said, looking straight into Skye’s eyes. “And I think you get a kick out of running around and being important and
Skye’s lips thinned with anger. “What did you say?”
“You get a thrill out of being the center of attention. Your true reason for wanting to know this stuff is that you’re nosy.” His tone dripped with contempt. He tried to brush past her and go up the stairs.
She stepped into his path and threw her words at him like stones, wanting to hurt him back. “Ah, that explains your unreasonable hostility. Counseling didn’t work for you and Darleen, did it? So, of course it can’t be worthwhile for other people. Then you’d have to admit you failed as a husband.”
His eyes blazed dark fire, and he grabbed her by the upper arms. Time froze, then with a curse he moved her out of his way and stomped up the stairs.
She heard his office door slam, and she slowly turned and went back into the dispatcher’s office. What was wrong with her? Was she deliberately destroying any chance she had for a relationship with a man to whom she was attracted? Why had she intentionally poked and prodded at all his vulnerabilities? What had she been thinking?
It was plain that May had heard every word of the argument. Mother and daughter looked at each other in silence. May nodded to a chair, and Skye sank into it gratefully. Her knees were oddly weak, and her head was throbbing. She hated losing her temper.
“So,” May said, “is that smoke coming out of your ears from the bridge you just burned?” Her mother wasn’t much into comforting people.
Skye wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “Was that as bad as I think it was?”
May nodded.
“Why did I let him get to me like that?” Skye buried her head in her hands.
“He sure knew the right buttons to push.” May tugged on her ear. “Of course, you were right in there, jabbing at his sore spots, too.”
“Is he right? Am I only involved in this investigation to make myself feel important?” Skye looked down at the tissue she was shredding.
“Probably a little. That’s human nature. But you’re also doing it because you like to help people.” May reached over and lifted Skye’s chin. “Even when you were little you were always the one who wanted to help. You used to iron for Grandma, and wrap all of Aunt Kitty’s Christmas presents, and you were always the one who insisted we stop at the nursing home to visit your great-grandma.”
Skye sniffed. It wasn’t like her mom to say something that nice. “I think I just learned an important lesson.”
“What?”
“It takes years to build up trust, and only a second to destroy it.” Skye shook her head. “I don’t think Wally is ever going to forgive me.”
“That may be true. But if he doesn’t, is he the kind of man you’d want—even to be friends with?”
May’s insights sometimes surprised Skye. “No, I guess not.” She got to her feet. “I suppose if he can’t see why I had to talk to those survivalists alone, then he doesn’t and won’t ever understand me.”
“That’s right, honey. And you don’t want a man like that.”
Skye nodded and got back to business. She whispered in May’s ear as she hugged her, “Can you get a copy of the autopsy?”
May shook her head, and whispered back, “No, the creep has it locked in his personal safe, and I don’t have the combination.”
“Rats. Have they said anything about releasing the body?”
“Not in front of me.” May made a face. “They’re keeping it all very hush-hush. The file isn’t even in the cabinet, and there’s nothing in the computer.”
“I wonder what the big secret is.” Skye’s brows drew together. “We know she died from an overdose of pills, and we’re pretty sure they weren’t self-administered, so what are they keeping from us? What does that autopsy show?”
May shrugged. “I’ll talk to the other dispatchers and see if they know anything.”
“Good idea.” Skye walked around to the other side of the counter. “I’ll think of a way of seeing that autopsy report yet,” she vowed.
CHAPTER 12
By Look or by Crook
Bingo yowled in protest when Skye flung off the covers and jumped up. He looked at her with accusing eyes, as if to say: What are you doing getting up, I haven’t ordered you to fix my breakfast yet.
Skye had followed her normal school-night routine and gone to bed at ten. It was now a little after eleven, and she had yet to fall asleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lorelei.
Charlie had called around six, wanting to know her progress in solving the murder. She’d had to admit she wasn’t getting very far in her investigation. And since Wally was keeping her in the dark, she had no idea if the police were doing any better.
The faster these thoughts crowded into Skye’s mind, the faster she pulled on clothes. But after she had finished dressing, she didn’t know what to do.
She sat on the edge of the unmade bed and stroked Bingo, who had forgiven her earlier indiscretion and was curled up by her side. She petted in time with his purrs, nearly lulling herself into the sleep that had eluded her earlier.
Just as she was about to nod off, it hit her. She had to see the autopsy report. Otherwise, she had no idea what direction to go. Obviously, something in that report was important.
How could she get ahold of the document? Too bad she didn’t know any safecrackers. She was pretty good with locked doors, but she’d never get the police department’s safe open by herself.
There was only one other place where a second copy of the autopsy might be found: Simon’s office. As the coroner, he’d keep a copy for his records. Since he had no clerical staff and wouldn’t worry about anyone snooping, the report probably wasn’t even locked up. So how could she get into the funeral home and take a look?
She could pretend someone in her family had died, and she needed to make arrangements. No. He’d never leave her alone long enough. Could she talk Simon’s assistant, Xavier, into letting her in, to “surprise” Simon? That was a bad idea on two counts. Xavier might get into trouble, and he knew that she and Simon were no longer a
