Murder of a Bookstore Babe

Wally wasn’t entirely persuaded by Skye’s reasoning. However, since the stolen books hadn’t yielded any usable fingerprints and they didn’t have any other leads, he did agree that in addition to investigating the murder as if Kayla was the intended victim, he’d have an officer look into the bookseller’s background, as well.

He also approved Skye talking to her cousins Kevin and Hugo, her cousin-in-law Flip, Charlie, and Tomi. Thankfully there was no need to talk to Pru Cormorant again. The English teacher had made her peace with Rise before the murder took place.

As Skye sat in her car watching Wally drive off, she realized that once again she’d forgotten to tell him about Vince’s engagement to Loretta and the couple’s plans to run away and get married in Las Vegas. Was she just absentminded, or was she subconsciously afraid that Wally might suggest they make it a double elopement?

Nah. Wally knew she wanted a church wedding, and he would never ask her to give up that dream. Tucking away that positive thought, Skye started the Bel Air but didn’t put it into gear. Shoot! Now that she was convinced Rise was the intended victim, she probably should have mentioned Xavier’s investment in the bookstore.

On the other hand, what possible reason could Xavier have to kill Rise? Without her, Tales and Treats would never succeed. Even having met Orlando only twice, Skye was sure there was no way he could run the business by himself.

Next, Skye considered her list of suspects. Which person should she question first? Better yet, what excuses could she use to drop by and see them? Hugo lived in Clay Center; she’d save him for when she could catch him at his used-car dealership.

It was a little past five thirty—suppertime for most Scumble Riverites. That meant Tomi would be busy at her restaurant, and both Kevin and Flip would be eating dinner with their families. That left Uncle Charlie. Tuesday was his bowling night, and he always ate at the alley’s grill before the league started.

Skye parked in the bowling alley’s sparsely populated lot. The senior men’s league didn’t start until six thirty, so the few cars present belonged to either bar patrons or men like Charlie—older bachelors or widowers who preferred not to cook for themselves.

The wind had picked up, and as Skye walked around to the front of the building, she held down her skirt, not wanting to flash anyone driving down Basin Street. When she pushed through the glass door, the glaring overhead lights made her blink.

While her eyes adjusted, Skye listened to Frank Sinatra crooning from the speakers. He was bragging about doing things his way—a sentiment she understood and approved of but didn’t practice as often as she should.

Charlie wasn’t among the half dozen men at the bar, so Skye continued into the grill. He was seated in a booth reading the Laurel paper and drinking a chocolate milk shake. She slid in across from him and flicked the newspaper with her thumb and index finger.

Scowling, Charlie lowered the paper and growled, “Dammit, I told you—” He cut himself off. “Skye, what are you doing here, honey?”

Unlike her cousins, whom she wouldn’t put past committing murder, she was sure her godfather had not killed Rise. Unfortunately, he’d made his dislike of the bookstore owner clear, so she hoped he had an alibi and could be crossed off the list.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No. I just ordered a minute ago.”

“Great.” Skye put her purse down beside her. “How about some company?”

“Sure.” Charlie folded the newspaper and set it aside. “To what do I owe the privilege?”

“Nothing special.” Skye took a menu from the metal holder that contained the salt and pepper shakers, catsup, mustard, and a bottle of hot sauce. “Wally’s got a meeting, and when I drove past and saw your car, it reminded me that you eat here on Tuesdays.”

“Is everything okay with you?” Charlie’s voice was apprehensive.

“Yep.” Skye kept her gaze on the laminated pages showing pictures of burgers and fries. “How about you?”

“Fair to middling.” Charlie eyed her thoughtfully. “Talk to your mother today?”

“Yes.” Ay-yi-yi! She’d forgotten that May had probably filled Charlie in on Vince buying an engagement ring. “She called me at work this morning.”

Skye had never quite figured out how her mother and Charlie had become so close. In the past she’d even wondered if they’d once had an affair, but she’d finally realized that Charlie’s love for May was paternal, and May reciprocated with daughterlike affection. Both fulfilled a need in the other. Charlie had never married or had children, and May’s father had died while she was still a teenager.

Before Charlie could question Skye further, Frannie appeared to take her order.

As soon as they exchanged pleasantries and the girl walked away, Skye, hoping to divert the conversation away from Vince, asked, “Are Orlando and Rise still staying at the motor court?”

“Thank God, no.” Charlie’s voice boomed. “The building inspector approved their new apartment yesterday, and they moved that afternoon.”

“You said you were mad that they were going to be taking guests from you with their B and B rooms.” Skye took a quick scan of the grill. Two men shared a booth, and a teenager sat at the counter. No one appeared to be paying them any attention. “Why aren’t you sorry to lose their business?”

“It dawned on me that the kind of people who would stay with them aren’t the kind that rent rooms at motor courts.” Charlie took a slurp of his milk shake. “Erwin told me that they’re going to have murder mystery and romance weekends and that kind of crap. What the hell, they might even bring in some trade.”

“Wonderful.” Skye blew out an inward sigh of relief. That removed Charlie’s motive; now, if he had an alibi, everything would be perfect.

From Xenia’s information, Skye figured the victim had been attacked sometime between when Rise left at eight fifteen and Xenia came looking for Kayla at eleven. Whoever killed the girl probably turned off the light when he or she left the store.

“Yep.” Charlie looked at Skye a little strangely. “Everything’s peachy.”

They sat in silence as Frannie served their meals; then as Charlie fussed with his cheeseburger, Skye said as casually as she could, “Are you still seeing that woman over in Brooklyn?”

“No.” Charlie swirled a French fry in a pool of catsup and popped it in his mouth. “She was getting too serious.”

Skye poked at her chef’s salad. “That’s too bad.” The lettuce, boiled ham strips, and cubes of American cheese were hidden by a thick layer of Thousand Island dressing. So much for eating a healthy meal. She should have had the corn dog and onion rings she really wanted. “Then you were alone Saturday evening?”

“Nope. I spent the night with my new lady friend, the animal doc from Laurel.” Charlie’s bland expression didn’t alter, but there was a suspicious flicker in his bright blue eyes. “Why are you so concerned about my social life all of a sudden?”

“Uh.” Skye really didn’t want to admit she was asking for an alibi. “No reason.” She hurried to change the subject. “Oh, look. There’s Bunny.”

The bowling alley manager was strolling from table to table, chatting with the customers. Skye waved, and the older woman headed toward them.

Tonight Bunny’s outfit was subdued, and Skye wondered whether anything was wrong. The redhead wore a tight black sweater, knit pants, and medium-heeled ankle boots. Had her subscription to the Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog lapsed?

After Bunny had enveloped Skye in a hug, Skye asked, “Everything going well?”

“Better now.” Bunny grinned. “For a while there I wasn’t sure if life was passing me by or trying to run me down.”

“What changed?” Skye asked.

“I came up with a new way to make some extra cash and improve my social life.”

“Really?” Skye teased. “Does it have anything to do with that nice-looking gentleman who saved you a parking spot at the bookstore’s grand opening the other day?”

“Maybe.” Bunny lowered her voice. “But I haven’t told Sonny Boy, so I can’t talk about it yet.”

Oh-oh! Skye cringed. Were Bunny’s improved love life and her new moneymaking