“I’d heard that Lorelei wanted out, but I don’t understand why.”
“Well, Lorelei wasn’t naturally thin like my Zoe, and she was sick of the pills and the diets, but Lorna just insisted she maintain her size-two figure.”
Skye tsked. “I wonder why it was so important to Mrs. Ingels.”
“I heard an interesting story about that.” Priscilla leaned forward. “Seems that Lorna was quite the beauty- pageant winner in her day. She won all the titles, up to Miss Illinois. And right before she was supposed to compete in that contest, she started to gain weight. Turned out she was five months pregnant. Because she was so thin, she often missed her period, so she had no idea.”
Skye did the math in her head. If Lorelei were the child of that pregnancy, that would make Lorna only thirty- six and Skye knew the woman was older than that. “Did Lorelei have an older sibling?”
“No, Lorna miscarried that baby.” Priscilla clasped her handkerchief to her chest. “So sad. No crown, no baby, and a marriage you’ve been forced into. Not a lot to count for your life’s achievements.”
It took an hour for Skye to extricate herself from Priscilla VanHorn’s verbal grasp. She’d had to look at every album, award, and trophy, and promise to write a glowing recommendation for Zoe for the Principal’s Choice Award before the mother would allow her to leave.
Now she sat at home, rubbing Bingo’s chin and thinking furiously. If Priscilla VanHorn wasn’t the murderer, then it had to be Lorna Ingels. Even though Lorelei didn’t know she was pregnant yet, her mother might have suspected it due to the missed periods, and perhaps thought that Lorelei would go through exactly what she herself had. But was Lorna twisted enough to think she was saving Lorelei by killing her?
The furiously ringing phone aroused Skye from her reverie. Dumping Bingo onto the sofa, she raced the answering machine, and scooped up the receiver up with one ring to spare. “Hello.”
“Oh, Skye, thank God you’re home. We need a favor.”
Skye wasn’t sure which twin was speaking. “Ginger? Gillian?”
“It’s Ginger. Could you go get Iris and Kristin?”
“Now?”
“Yes! They’re supposed to be picked up at six, which was perfect because we were supposed to get off work at five-thirty, but our cash drawers aren’t balancing and the computer’s going crazy and no one is allowed to leave the bank. We’ve tried everyone, and no one is home.”
“Sure, I’ll get them. Where are they?”
“That’s just it. They’re at Linette Ingels’s.”
Ginger continued, interrupting Skye’s thoughts, “Lorna gets so pissy if we’re late picking the kids up from her house.”
This was the first time Skye had ever heard her cousin sound intimidated. She wondered why Ginger found Lorna so alarming. She looked at the clock on the microwave. It was ten to six. “Okay, I’d better go right now. I’ll bring them back here until you get off work.”
“Thanks. We owe you one.”
Skye arrived at the Ingels’ house at one minute before six. Their Polish housekeeper answered the door, and Skye explained she was there to pick up the girls.
The housekeeper gestured her into the foyer and left the room. When she returned she said in heavily accented English, “Girls are watching video with Miss Linette. Tape will be over in ten minutes. You wait?”
“Sure, no problem.” Skye looked around for somewhere to sit. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Ingels home?”
“No, they are out.” The woman turned. “I need to watch dinner. You would like to sit in library?”
“I’ll just sit in the kitchen and keep you company, if that’s okay?” Skye was counting on the housekeeper’s good manners.
A fleeting frown crossed the woman’s forehead. “Sure, sure, this way.”
The kitchen was huge, with stainless-steel appliances and marble counters. The housekeeper tried to steer Skye to an oak table that could seat twelve without crowding, but Skye edged her way to a stool at the counter, closer to the action.
The woman went to the stove and stirred something in a pot, then checked a pan in the oven. Turning back to Skye, she asked, “You would like drink?”
“Yes, thanks.” Before the housekeeper could react, Skye hopped off her stool and scurried over to the fridge. “Go ahead with your cooking, I’ll get it myself.”
It felt awful to be so pushy, and Skye was a little ashamed of herself for taking advantage of the woman, but she was hoping the housekeeper wouldn’t know how to say no to a guest.
Skye flung open the refrigerator door and peered inside. She needed to get a good look before the housekeeper stopped her. She scanned the shelves starting at the top. The bottom shelf contained row after row of Sea Mist Herbal Enhanced Juices.
The housekeeper loomed between Skye and the fridge. “I will get your drink. You sit, please.”
“Okay, thanks.” Skye had seen what she came for. “Could I have a Sea Mist please? Vapor if you have it.”
The woman took a bottle from the shelf and turned to the cupboard.
Skye rushed to stop her. “Ah, I’d prefer it from the bottle, please. No glass.”
The housekeeper handed Skye the drink.
Skye broke the cellophane seal around the neck and twisted off the gold cap. Hearing the pop, she knew that it was safe to drink. As she sipped and watched the housekeeper cook, she scratched at the label to see if it would come off.
The woman’s voice surprised her. “Ah, you are like Mrs. Ingels. She, too, always must try to peel off label of this drink. Then she break her nail and be upset. But she never learns. And I have mess.”
As Skye made sure that Iris and Kristin were buckled into the backseat of the Bel Air, she kept seeing the rows and rows of juice in her mind. While she made the girls toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for supper, she kept hearing the housekeeper talk about Mrs. Ingels peeling off the labels. So, when the twins finally picked up their daughters at nearly eight o’clock, what they had to say didn’t register with Skye until they were almost out the door.
“Whoa!” Skye grabbed Ginger’s arm. “Did you say that there’s a lot of money missing from the bank, and they can’t find Allen Ingels?”
“You never listen to what we say.”
“Sorry,” Skye answered automatically. “Tell me again.”
Gillian sighed. “Well, as we just said, at first, when our drawers didn’t balance they thought it was a computer glitch. Then they started checking further, and all of a sudden Mr. Yates was rounding everyone up and questioning all of us individually.”
Ginger jumped in. “From what we can guess and what we overheard, over a million dollars is gone from the accounts, and it could be more. And they kept calling and calling, but no Mr. Ingels anywhere.”
“Wow!”
“Anyway, we’ve got to go.” The twins and their daughters swept out of Skye’s cottage, amid hugs and thank-yous.
Silence abruptly descended. Skye tried to figure out what to do with her knowledge. It was obvious she’d have to go to Wally, and how mad would he be that she had seen the diary?
The answer was obvious. The longer she waited, the bigger the chance that something else would happen. Even as she contemplated, the Ingels could be leaving the country for someplace without extradition.
She grabbed the phone and punched in the police-station number. “Scumble River Police, May speaking. Can I help you?”
“Mom, me. Is Wally around?”
“No. You know he works days.”
Skye bit her lip. There was no other choice. “Call him at home and have him meet me at the PD.” She explained the situation.
