“Secret? Who was this guy?”
Troy shrugged and didn’t respond.
Skye could tell she’d never get an answer to that question, so she tried another. “When did you guys really stop being together?”
“Valentine’s Day.” Troy studied his hands. “I bought her a big heart-shaped box of candy, and she got real mad at me.”
Skye was confused. “Was she hoping for something else?”
“No, but she accused me of trying to make her fat, so no one else would want her.”
“That is one of life’s mysteries, you know,” Skye said, trying for some humor.
“What?”
“How a two-pound box of chocolates can make a woman gain five pounds.”
Troy didn’t smile back, and Skye quickly added, “Were you jealous that she cared if anyone else would want her?”
“Not then. A little, after Zoe told me about the other guy.”
“And you were still going to take her to the prom.”
Troy frowned. “We’d been together since eighth grade. I didn’t want to hurt her.”
Skye said good-bye to Troy and wandered to the other side of the room. Interesting. Troy
If, that is, Troy was telling the truth.
CHAPTER 14
Mean with Envy
If not Troy, then who was the father of Lorelei’s baby? The new boyfriend? What was the big secret? Was he someone she couldn’t be seen with in public?
A commotion at the funeral-home door drew Skye’s attention away from her speculation. Standing just inside the room, arguing in whispers, were her twin cousins, Ginger and Gillian.
Skye moved toward them in time to hear Ginger say to Gillian, “I will not be nice to Lorna Ingels. You be a hypocrite if you want to, but I’m not doing it.”
“Hi, Skye.” Gillian acknowledged her cousin before tightening her grip on her twin’s arm. “Just say you’re sorry for her loss. You are sorry Lorelei is dead, right?”
“Hi, Gillian, Ginger,” Skye said softly, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.
“Hi, Skye,” Ginger echoed before a mutinous look descended on her face. “Of course I’m sorry. But that woman had Linette compete in a pageant three days after her other daughter was murdered. She’s no more in mourning than my dog is.”
“You’re probably right,” Gillian replied, guiding her twin toward the front of the visitation room, “but since when does Scumble River give points for sincerity?”
As her cousins moved off, Skye remained by the door pondering what she had just heard. Lorna and the whole pageant scene really caused some strong feelings among those involved.
The afternoon hours crawled by. As far as she could see, most of the people who came were older, and many seemed to have only distant connections with the family. They went through the line, and then stood at the back and chatted with each other, treating the wake like any other opportunity to socialize.
Troy and Zoe were the only two students present. He sat quietly in the back row, alternately studying the ceiling and his shoes. Zoe’s mother had a firm grip on her daughter’s arm as they occupied the third row without speaking.
It was a relief when the grandfather clock struck four and Skye could leave. So far she had been able to avoid Simon, and neither Wally nor Kent had put in an appearance. She had two hours until the next round.
The weather had grown colder while Skye was inside the funeral parlor. She hurried toward her car, flung herself inside, and backed the Chevy out of its space. She adjusted the instruments for heat and waited, anticipating a flood of warm air pouring out of the dashboard openings.
Nothing happened. She continued to drive, but only cold gusts emerged from the car’s vents. The air stream was still near freezing when Skye approached her driveway. Great. She’d have to find a mechanic who worked on old cars. Or she could mention it to her mom, and her dad would take care of it.
At least her house was toasty, she thought as she walked through her front door, smiling. Wait a minute. She hadn’t set the thermostat this high before she left. Someone had been here. A burglar or May? Skye voted for her mother.
How many times had she told her folks that the key she let them have was for emergency use only? Still, a tiny smile remained on Skye’s lips. Was that a roast she smelled?
Skye shared the beef dinner with Bingo as she admired her freshly cleaned house. She was fighting a losing battle— her need for independence versus her parents’ need to take care of her. The note May had left said it all: “I know Charlie is asking you to go to all the visitation hours today and the funeral tomorrow, so I went shopping from your list on the fridge, cleaned a little, and cooked. Hope you’re okay. Love, Mom.”
What seemed only seconds later, Skye was stretched out on her bed when the high-pitched beep of her alarm cut through her dream of the beach and a tall dark stranger. Groggily, she forced open one eye. Quarter to six. She had managed to squeeze in an hour of sleep. Time to freshen up and get back to Reid’s Funeral Home.
She dug out a black velvet-covered headband in an attempt to tame her chestnut curls. A quick dab of blush, some eyeshadow to highlight her best feature, her emerald green eyes, and she was ready to go. She certainly wasn’t looking her best, but at least she wouldn’t scare small children—she hoped.
A line had already formed when she pushed through the doors of the funeral home. Skye knew many if not all of the faces. Most were students and staff.
She made her way to a sofa situated off to the side of the row of folding chairs and prepared to intervene if anyone needed assistance. Simon was seated in the very back corner at a small desk. He appeared to be going through papers, but his sharp gaze swept the area every few minutes.
Everything was quiet. Skye watched Farrah Miles, Caresse Wren, and Zoe VanHorn go through the line. All three cheerleaders had tears running down their cheeks, but their mascara remained intact. Score one for waterproof makeup. They found chairs near the back, brought out mirrors, and began to chat as they repaired the nonexistent damage to their faces.
Next through were a group of teachers. Many of them had swollen eyes and sobbed audibly as they faced the coffin. Skye watched them, trying to gauge whether she could help comfort them.
One of the teachers approached her, and Skye steered the woman toward a small parlor off the main area, settling her into a chair. Nearly a half hour passed by the time Skye and the teacher finished talking.
After the woman left Skye headed back to the visitation room. The line now stretched out the door and contained many people she didn’t recognize. She settled back on what she now thought of as her sofa and crossed her legs.
Skye was watching the front, so she nearly missed an argument in the back corner, opposite where Simon had sat earlier. Her attention was finally caught by voices hissing at each other. Turning to look, Skye saw Kent Walker involved in a deep conversation with a woman she didn’t recognize.
Skye rose and strolled nonchalantly in that direction. She got close enough to hear the woman whisper, “You’re just lucky I’m not going to your principal. I know all about you and Lorna.”
Kent’s head came up and met Skye’s stare. A chill ran down her spine at the look of loathing he gave her. He grabbed the woman’s arm and urged her outside.
The evidence was piling up. Kent really had been having an affair with Lorelei’s mother. Skye wondered if he’d been sleeping with anyone else, and once again counted her blessings that none of his bedroom conquests had included her.
Skye moved to follow Kent and the woman, but a hand came down on her arm. She jumped.
Simon spoke before she could. “You’re awfully jittery lately. One might even think you were up to something you weren’t supposed to be.”
