“About the same. Though I’m finally dating a very nice guy, Wally Boyd. He’s the police chief in town. I live in a big old money pit of a house that I inherited, I have a black cat named Bingo, and I’m related to most of the people in town. Are you living in Clay Center with your mom?”
“Uh, well, no.” Jackie pleated the material of her skirt. “She lives in that new senior housing and there’s no room for me, so I’m staying at the Up A Lazy River Motor Court while I look for an apartment.”
“That’s my uncle Charlie’s place.”
“Your uncle is the school board president?”
“Actually, he’s my godfather,” Skye corrected.
“You said you owned a large house. Are you interested in renting out a room?”
“Sorry.” Skye shook her head. “I like my privacy too much.”
“No problem.”
Feeling a little guilty, Skye joked, “At least at the motor court you don’t have to clean, since you get maid service.”
“No, I’d rather do it myself. I don’t like anyone messing with my things. I just pick up fresh towels at the motel office.” Jackie stood. “Shouldn’t we get over to the other schools?”
“Sure. Why don’t you tell Opal where we’re going while I rearrange a few appointments? I’ll meet you outside. Where are you parked?”
“I managed to snag a spot in the front row.”
Skye grimaced. “Was it, by any chance, the space right next to the handicapped slots?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Uh-oh. That’s Homer’s spot. In most cases his bark is worse than his bite, but not on the issue of parking. Let me fill you in on the facts of life at Scumble River High. Number one—don’t park in the front row. Ever. Those slots are unofficially reserved for administration and department heads. The chair of the English department will eat you alive if you’re in her place.
“Number two—be nice to Opal, the office secretary. She may look like a mouse, but she’s the real power at this school.
“Number three—the transportation department rules above all. Never mess with anything having to do with the buses.”
“How do I get on Opal’s good side?”
“Food. For a little thing, she has the appetite of a linebacker.”
“Interesting.” Jackie paused on her way out the door and gave Skye an enigmatic smile. “It looks like a lot of things around here aren’t what they seem.”
CHAPTER 3
Carried Away
Skye normally loved Fridays, but this one wasn’t starting out very well. She had slept through her alarm, stepped on Bingo’s tail, and broken the zipper on her new pants. All of which contributed to her running late. Now she couldn’t get into her office.
She checked to make sure she had the correct key, then attempted to reinsert it into the lock, but it wouldn’t go in.
Skye jiggled the doorknob and tried the key again, but it still refused to fit. She blew a curl out of her eyes. There was only one solution: Find the custodian and have him open the door. Of course, this meant Skye would be late for the meeting, which was a serious problem. Mrs. Idell’s Jekyll-and-Hyde personality was always tricky to deal with, and having to wait made her even more fiendish.
She’d have to have the janitor paged. Thank goodness the PA system had been repaired. A few more days without it and Skye would have been tempted to start breeding carrier pigeons.
Naturally, the school secretary was already swamped with three other emergencies. She tapped her foot until Opal hung up the phone, handed a frantic teacher a stack of photocopies, and ushered a limping girl into the nurse’s office. Then Skye said, “Can you call the custodian down here? There’s something wrong with my key and I can’t get into my office.”
Opal tensed as if expecting to be hit. “I tried all the keys myself before I gave them out. Are you sure you put it in the right way?”
“Yes,” Skye snapped. Had Opal slipped over the edge? Skye knew the secretary was strung tighter than a tennis racket, but she usually managed to avoid getting caught in the net. “Why would I suddenly not know how to use a key I’ve had for the past four years?”
“Well, there’s your problem.” Opal’s expression relaxed. “You need to use the new key. Remember, the lock has been changed.”
“When? Why?”
“Jackie said too many people had keys and her files were extremely sensitive, so she wanted to limit access to her office.”
“
Opal flinched. “I’m sure I don’t know. Do you want to speak to Mr. Knapik about it?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t have time right now. Just give me the new key.”
“We only made three. One to keep here in the main office, one for Jackie, and one for you. The custodians will use their master keys when they clean.”
“Fine.” Skye forced herself to take a deep breath. “Give me the one you had made for me.”
“Jackie took it. She said she’d give it to you.” Opal smiled fondly. “She’s so sweet. She said she’d save me the trouble, since she knew how busy I am.”
“Yeah, it takes a lot of time to hand me a freaking key,” Skye muttered under her breath, then said aloud, “Well, Jackie hasn’t given it to me yet, and now I’m late for a meeting with Travis’s mother.”
“Oh, my.” Opal’s pale complexion grew pastier. Everyone on staff knew Mrs. Idell’s reputation. The secretary hastily opened a flat gray metal box attached to the wall beside her desk and revealed row after row of keys. After selecting one in the middle, she handed it to Skye. “Be sure to bring it back when you’re through with it.”
Wordlessly, Skye snatched the tiny metal ring from Opal’s fingers, turned on her heels, and ran back toward her office. The new key fit perfectly and she slammed the door open, flicking on the light as she rushed inside.
A few steps into the room she came to an abrupt halt. Had there been a break-in? But why would a thief rearrange the furniture?
Skye had last been at the high school on Tuesday afternoon. Now, only three days later, her desk had been pushed against the side wall and piles and piles of manila folders were stacked on and around it. Her cherished leather chair was behind Jackie’s desk, which had been moved over by the door where Skye’s had previously been, and the trapezoidal table that had been perfect for giving IQ and achievement tests had been replaced by a round one that would make their administration more awkward.
Skye’s mouth hung open as she worked out what had happened. Obviously Hurricane Jackie had struck and this was the aftermath of the storm.
The old guidance file cabinets were lined up just inside the door, and taped to them were handwritten signs saying,
Jackie would have had to take out the contents of the huge four-drawer monstrosities in order to move them—they would have been too heavy to budge when they were full. Skye wondered when, or if, the other woman was planning to put back the files.
Skye glanced at the wall clock. Ten past eight. There wasn’t much she could do now, but she did take a few
