button something? Was her car on fire? Car, that explained it. A 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air at a country club probably stood out like a bikini at a church social. She fought the urge to sink below the dash and resolutely drove on.
The clubhouse was faced in cream-colored brick and sported huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Skye parked and hurried inside. To the right, the golf shop and offices ran the length of the building. The opposite wing was set up for the lunch.
The delicious scents of garlic and ginger wafted over Skye as she entered the banquet room. Against one wall was a salad bar, pasta and stir-fry station, and dessert table. Extremely unusual fare for a Scumble River funeral.
Skye wondered briefly what the Ingelses had done with all the food contributed by their neighbors and friends. Probably given it to the housekeeper.
Circular tables for eight were scattered around the room. Most people had already arrived, and many were grouped around the portable bar set up at the back of the room. Skye adjusted the sleeves of her navy blazer, made sure her white blouse was tucked in, and tugged down her skirt before joining the throng vying for a drink.
She was always a little nervous in this type of crowd and setting. It reminded her of the bittersweet time she’d spent in New Orleans, engaged to a wealthy young man, before her life collapsed and she found herself back in Scumble River.
A handsome man smiled at her as she joined the people milling around the room. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Troy Yates.”
For a second Skye was taken aback, but she quickly figured this man had to be the father of the Troy Yates she knew. “Hello, I’m Skye Denison. I believe I know your son. I’m the psychologist at the high school.”
“Right, right. You’ve talked to Troy Junior a couple of times since Lorelei died, right?”
“Yes.” Skye wanted to know what this guy did for a living and how he was connected to the Ingels. “He’s a nice boy. Very popular.”
A strange look crossed the senior Troy’s face. “Well, yes, in the sense that his peers like him, but he was faithful to Lorelei.”
“I’m sure he was.” Skye tucked that odd response away for later examination. “He and Lorelei must have made a striking couple.”
“Troy was devoted to Lorelei. He would have never even considered dating another girl.” A hand descended on the man’s shoulder, and he jumped.
Allen Ingels stood there with a forced smile on his lips. “Glad to hear it, Yates. Wouldn’t want to find out Junior had hurt Lorelei in any way.”
“No, of course not, Allen.” The senior Yates shook his head. “Troy would never do anything to cause Lorelei any pain.”
After Allen Ingels moved on, Skye asked Troy Senior, “Are you and the Ingelses friends? Is that how the kids got together?”
“Well, ah, yes and no. I work for Allen. I’m the bank’s manager. Lorelei and Troy met at school.” The man’s handsome face was flushed. “Excuse me. Time for a refill.”
So, both Troy and his family had a lot to lose if Lorelei’s baby turned out to be his. Skye picked up a soft drink from a passing waiter’s tray and moved to another knot of people.
“Ms. Denison, nice to see you. I wanted to thank you for all your help when Cassie was attacked by that hellion.”
Cassie? Ah, she remembered her now. This was Mrs. Wren, the mother of the third-grade girl whose hair was cut off. “You’re more than welcome. Is Cassie alright now?”
“It was a tremendous loss, but your brother did a wonderful job. Luckily she has a classically beautiful face and can wear any hairstyle.” The woman leaned closer as if to impart a secret. “We decided to go with ringlets, and I think it’s going to work. Since all the girls have long straight hair, she stands out from the crowd.”
“I’m so glad.” Skye was never sure how parents would take things. A few were grateful for her assistance, but most resented the need for it. “I can’t imagine why the other girl thought it was okay to do what she did.”
Mrs. Wren leaned even closer. “It’s the mothers. They tell the daughters it’s okay to do anything to win the title, get the part, dance the lead.” She took a sip of her martini. “I’ve seriously considered taking both Cassie and Caresse out of the competition.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I decided against it. I mean, why make my girls quit? Unlike many of the other children, they really have talent and a good chance to make it professionally.”
“I see your point,” Skye said. Every mother thought her child was special.
“Lorna Ingels is a good example of the type of mother I was talking about.” Mrs. Wren looked around, and must have decided it was safe to go on. “Lorelei was bad enough, but she had a soft spot and would at least help out her friends. That Linette is downright scary. She’ll do anything to get ahead. And you know, at her age it’s got to be the mother behind it.”
“Is Cassie in the pageants with Linette?” Skye fought to contain her excitement. This was important information.
“No, she didn’t like beauty pageants as much as dance, and her agent didn’t think they were all that advantageous, since she was already getting commercial spots,” Mrs. Wren bragged.
“So, what has Linette done to ensure that she wins?” Skye asked, getting back to the subject that most interested her.
“Mmm.” The woman narrowed her eyes. “Well, she spies on the other girls, then tells on them.”
“That must be pretty annoying.”
“And she steals parts of their costume or makeup or equipment.”
“Why doesn’t she get kicked out for that?” asked Skye.
“No one’s caught her so far, but we know she’s behind it.” Mrs. Wren took another slug of her drink. “Once, she passed out chocolates that had Ex-Lax mixed into them. Most of the girls had to miss portions of the pageant. Some even had accidents on stage. It was awful.”
“Surely she was disqualified that time.”
“Nope. She was smart enough to eat some herself and claimed the box of candy had been an anonymous gift.” The woman leaned even closer and a wave of gin breath washed over Skye. “But I noticed that Linette didn’t eat hers until after she had competed, so she didn’t miss any of the pageant.”
“That sounds pretty devious for a ten-year-old.” Skye backed a few feet away. “How did you decide it wasn’t her mother behind the sabotage?”
“Lorna usually had an alibi for the time the incidents took place.” The woman pursed her lips. “Of course, they probably work together.” Mrs. Wren finished her drink and looked toward the bar. “I need another. Excuse me.”
Skye spotted Charlie sitting at a table with some of his cronies. She was getting hungry, so she filled a plate from the food stations and brought it over to where they were seated.
The owner of the real-estate agency was speaking. “A murder in the town’s school is not good for property values. I haven’t sold one house since the Ingels girl was killed. You need to do something, Charlie.”
Mayor Clapp joined in. “Yeah, it isn’t a good image for this town. We pride ourself on having safe schools.”
Skye decided it was time to interrupt when Charlie’s face turned redder than his suspenders. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”
The men moved over to make room for her. An extra chair was snagged from an adjacent table.
As she seated herself, Charlie said, “What’s that stuff you’re eating?”
“Mixed green salad, angel hair pasta with sun-dried tomatoes and olive oil, and a vegetable and tofu stir-fry.” Skye paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Want some?”
“Hell, no,” Charlie bellowed. “I didn’t climb to the top of the food chain to be a vegetarian.”
“Eating a meatless meal every once in a while does not mean you’re a vegetarian,” Skye said, exasperated. “And being a vegetarian is not a contagious disease. Consuming a portion of tofu won’t make you allergic to steak.”
Charlie frowned and got up from the table. “Very funny. I’m getting some dessert. Unless they’ve done
