Murder of a Royal Pain

Skye needed to make the correct diagnosis in order to know the best way to deal with her assailant. Stalling for time, she asked, “Why do you want me to go?”

Jackie snapped, “Because you stole my life.”

Okay, that was a clue. “What do you mean?” She needed to keep the other woman talking. Soon Wally would arrive, and, seeing her car in the parking lot, he’d know she had to be somewhere on the premises. Surely he’d figure out she was in Jackie’s cabin.

“We were born on the same day, at the same time, in the same hospital.”

“How do you know that?” Skye glanced at the counter to her left. Was there anything she could use as a weapon?

“A little over a year ago I went to the county courthouse in Laurel to request a certified copy of my birth certificate so I could get a passport. They gave me yours by mistake. Our surnames are similar.”

“What is your real last name?” There was nothing Skye could use to defend herself near the sink.

“Dennison, same as yours, only with two Ns. And my first name is Stacy, close enough to Skye to confuse the stupid clerk.”

“Oh. What a weird coincidence.” Skye noticed that this line of questioning seemed to have a calming effect on Jackie, and she struggled to think of a way to continue it. “So we were both born in Laurel Hospital.”

“Yes. But you got to go home with a loving family, and I was stuck with a mother who didn’t want me,” Jackie rasped in an ugly tone. “And when I started to follow you around last Thanksgiving, it finally all made sense. The hospital had made the same mistake the courthouse did—only they had switched babies—and I knew I had found my real life.”

Holy crap! Jackie’s brief visit to the land of sanity was over. “Why do you think that?”

“Because I deserve your life and you don’t. You never wanted to live in Scumble River and be near your family. You wanted to live in a big city and marry some rich guy. You’re only here because he dumped you and you were fired. You had to come back, but I want to be here.”

“Sometimes we don’t get what we deserve, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t who we are,” Skye pointed out.

“Wow. You’re so perceptive.” Sarcasm dripped from Jackie’s words. “That must be why those idiots at the schools think you’re such a hotshot psychologist. I can’t believe they don’t see that even without a college degree, I’m a thousand times better than you.”

“But they do. I’ve heard Homer and Neva both say how wonderful you are,” Skye assured her, playing to Jackie’s grandiose sense of self-importance.

“Then why did Homer yell at me for not getting that Idell bitch to back down on her plan to sue the district?” Jackie’s voice held an unreasonable rage.

“That’s just his way,” Skye soothed, trying to both calm and stall the woman. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“But. I. Am. Not. Everyone.” Jackie seemed to lose the thread of what she was saying. Suddenly she lunged at Skye. “Why didn’t you leave town when you were supposed to? I heard about your haunted-house phobia and I got Justin to tell you about the real ghosts. I was sure running into that rope would be enough to make you go away, but that idiot Annette ruined everything.”

“Pretending to cry and then locking me in the bathroom was a brilliant touch.” Skye was not above kissing up if it would keep her alive.

“I didn’t pretend to cry. That must have been the real ghost, because I heard it, too, and there was no one else around.”

“But it was you who tried to run me over, right?”

“Yeah, Dylan hung his jacket on the rack near the door of the restaurant, and I borrowed the car keys from the pocket. The hardest part was slipping them back before he left. Good thing he and his friends stayed there so long—they must have drunk two whole pots of coffee.” Jackie appeared to refocus. “But since I couldn’t scare you into leaving town on your own, and you saw my little art gallery here, I’m going to have to get rid of you myself.”

“No, you don’t need to do that.” Skye scrambled to find the right thing to say. “We know Annette’s and Gloria’s deaths were accidents. You won’t be charged with their murders. You can disappear and assume another identity.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jackie’s tone was remorseless. “But you’re the one who is going to disappear. And I’ll be here to take over for you at school, to comfort your friends and family, and to fill the emptiness in poor Chief Boyd’s broken heart.” Jackie waved the switchblade in Skye’s face. “In a few months no one will remember you. I’ll be Skye Denison. I’ve always been good at taking on a new identity. The woman who claimed to be my mother used to call me her little chameleon. That is, until the hair dryer accidently slipped from my hand and fell into her bathtub. That closed her yap.”

Skye’s blood was roaring in her ears, as loud as the noon coal train. “Okay.” She made one last-ditch effort, ignoring the fact that Jackie had confessed to killing her own mother. “I’ll be the one to leave. I’ll write a letter saying I’m sick of everyone, and bored with Scumble River, and that I’m never coming back.”

“Shut up!” Jackie backhanded Skye across the mouth. “Why do you persist in treating me as if I’m stupid? You must know by now that I’m way smarter than you.”

Skye felt her rapidly swelling lip, then stared at the blood staining her fingertips. She was too stunned to respond. She could see that the other woman was getting more and more mentally disorganized, her thoughts zipping from idea to idea like a Ping-Pong ball. She was starting to unravel at the edges. It showed in the way her mood changed so fast, and in her uncontrolled jittery movements.

Jackie nodded to herself. “And after I get through with you, I’m going to kill Simon. Everyone will think you two ran away together, and that will teach him to reject me.”

“He rejected you?” Skye blurted out, then bit her tongue. That had been stupid.

Jackie ignored Skye and continued to babble to herself. “I was so happy when I asked him out and he said yes. And it was perfect, because on one of my secret visits to your house, I overheard you talking on the phone, telling Vince that you and Wally were going to a movie in Joliet, then out to dinner at Merichka’s. So when Simon picked me up, I told him that’s where I wanted to go. We had such a wonderful time, but when he dropped me off after our date, he said he couldn’t see me anymore. He wasn’t ready to start dating someone new yet.” Jackie refocused on Skye and pointed the knife at her. “He wanted you, not me.”

Skye tensed, ready for Jackie’s attack, but instead she stepped out of the bathroom, saying, “Be right back. I need something from my purse.”

Before Skye could take a breath, Jackie returned. She dragged Skye away from the wall, put an arm around her throat, and pressed a gun to her temple. Pushing Skye in front of her, Jackie passed through the bedroom, opened the outside door, and walked over the threshold. Her car was parked in front of the cabin, and she thrust Skye toward the trunk. Skye knew she had only moments to save herself.

As Jackie fumbled in her pocket for the key, someone leapt out from behind a clump of bushes and yelled, “Freeze.”

Kurt Michaels stood in the classic shooter’s stance, aiming a huge silver gun at Jackie’s head. A nanosecond later Simon, unarmed, emerged from between the two cottages, and Wally burst out of the motor court’s office door with his weapon drawn.

The three men, clearly surprised by the others’ presence, all started shouting, but Skye only heard the click of a trigger being pulled back near her ear, followed by a gun discharging into the air.

The gunshot abruptly focused the men’s attention back on the women, and shut them up. In the stunned silence, Jackie said, “If you all don’t leave before I count to three, the next round will go into her head.”

Kurt took a step forward, and Jackie hit Skye across the face with the pistol, as she yelled, “One.”

He stopped as if he’d been tagged in a game of Statues.

Seizing the opportunity that Kurt’s distraction had provided, Simon tried to come at Jackie and Skye from the side, but Jackie spun around and hit Skye again, and screamed, “Two.” Simon halted.

Pain consumed all Skye’s thoughts, and she cringed when Wally said, “Okay. You win. You don’t have to hit her anymore. We’re all leaving. Right, guys?”