CD?”
He grimaced and shook his head. “Any other questions?” He glanced around the small space, stroking his beard.
Silence. Then finally one of the teenagers asked, “Did you write the whole book yourself, or did you, like, copy some of it?”
“That would be plagiarism.” He glared at the girl. “I would never do that.”
“Sorry. My history teacher said to ask.” The girl chewed, then blew a bubble with her gum. “He told us if we came to this we got extra credit and he wouldn’t fail us for using papers we bought on the Internet.”
“Well.” Josephson seemed to be unable to think of anything else to say.
Skye felt sorry for him and raised her hand. “Could you tell us a little about your writing process?”
While he was explaining his method, Rise stepped back into the room. Once he finished, she said to him, “Thank you, Walker.” There was a smattering of polite applause. When it died down, she pointed to a table off to the side. “We have cookies and coffee, and Mr. Josephson will be happy to autograph books for you.”
Orlando slipped out of the room, but everyone else rushed for the refreshments, and Skye had to fight her way in the opposite direction. Once she got her book signed, she walked over to Rise and asked, “Do you have a minute to talk to me?”
“Sure.” Rise raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I don’t think there will be a run at the register.”
“Somewhere private?”
“Okay.” Rise led the way. “We can use the back room.”
When they were settled, Rise in an old office chair and Skye perched on a box, Skye said, “I wanted to warn you that my cousin Hugo found out about what happened in your previous job and plans to tell everyone.”
“I know.” Rise shrugged. “It was never a huge secret, although it would have been nice to be able to leave it in the past.” She grimaced. “I wish it hadn’t happened, but I had no idea my boss was running a Ponzi scheme. The police cleared me, and I was hoping to start fresh.”
“You might want to give the
“Good idea.” Rise nodded. “I don’t worry about what people think—they don’t do it often enough for me to be concerned—but it does bother Orlando. And right now he’s struggling to stay sober, so I don’t want him more stressed-out.”
Skye nodded sympathetically. “Then it really would be a good idea to let people know what
Rise pursed her lips. “I met Kathryn at a chamber of commerce meeting, and I think she’d be open to my story.”
“Great.” Skye smiled. “One other thing.” She twisted the handles of her tote bag. “You know the police now think that murder was the primary intention, not burglary. So we’re exploring all possibilities, which includes the chance that you rather than Kayla were the intended victim.”
“Really?” Rise’s face knotted with surprise. “Me? Why?”
“Well, I hate to ask . . .” Skye hesitated.
“Go ahead.” Rise met Skye’s gaze. “I’ve never flinched from uncomfortable questions, and I’m not about to start now.”
“Fair enough.” Skye nodded. “I’m thinking it might be someone who lost money with your firm and blames you. Was there anyone local who invested?”
“Yes.”
“Who?” Skye asked, hoping Rise wouldn’t claim confidentiality.
“Troy Yates.”
“The bank president?” Skye clarified, although the only other Troy Yates she knew was his son, Troy Jr., currently away at college.
“Uh-huh.”
“Then we’ll talk to him.” Skye dug a pad from her tote and made a note. “Anyone else around here who lost money and might want to kill you?”
Rise hesitated for a nanosecond before shaking her head.
Skye watched the other woman’s expression. “Are you sure?” She was certain Rise was holding something back.
“Yes.” Rise got up. “Yates is the only one from this area who lost money and might hold a grudge.”
“Okay.”
Skye started to leave, but Rise stopped her. “Um, if I was the intended victim, do you think the killer might try again?”
“It’s hard to say,” Skye hedged. “It would probably be a good idea not to be alone, make sure the doors are locked after hours, and keep up your guard.”
“Yeah.” Rise’s skin was pale, and there was fear in her eyes. “I’ll do that.”
Skye watched Rise head into the cafe, then walked over to the counter. Xenia was alone at the register, and Skye handed the girl Josephson’s book and a fifty-dollar bill. “I’m curious about something.”
“Yeah?” Xenia rang up the purchase.
“Let’s face it. I know you don’t need the money, so why are you really working here?” Skye held out her hand for the change and was a little dismayed to see it was less than twenty dollars. This was why she rarely bought hardcovers.
Several different expressions crossed Xenia’s face before she settled on nonchalant. “I thought it would be an interesting experience.”
“Try again.”
“I don’t answer to you.” Xenia’s posture was belligerent as she shoved the book into a bag.
“No, you don’t,” Skye replied smoothly. “But if it has anything to do with Kayla’s murder, I really need to know.”
“Why?” Xenia’s voice was bitter. “Nothing will help Kayla now.”
“That’s true,” Skye agreed. “But once you kill someone, it’s much easier to do it a second time.”
“So you’re worried about me.” Xenia’s tone was a little less hostile.
“Yes, I am.” Skye stuffed her purchase into her tote bag.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my friend.” Skye realized that was true. She did regard the prickly teen as a friend. “And I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”
“Say I believe you. I can’t talk about it here.” Xenia glanced over her shoulder. “I get off work in twenty minutes. Meet me at my car.”
CHAPTER 22
Lady Chatterley’s Lover
“Like everything about Xenia, there’s no one clear reason,” Skye said to Wally as he drove them toward Troy Yates’s house. “She’s making a documentary about people who have downsized and simplified their lives. She’s observing Rise and Orlando to see if they’re happier in their new circumstances, or if they would prefer to go back to their previous existence.”
The Yateses lived in one of the new subdivisions just inside the Scumble River School District. Previously, the county sheriff’s department had been responsible for patrolling that area, but it had been annexed into the city limits a couple of years ago.
“And?” Wally pulled into a paved driveway flanked by two concrete lions—one with its right paw raised in the air and the other its left.
“And she wants to find Kayla’s killer.” Skye craned her neck to examine the massive brick house as it came into view. It had lots of fancy shaped windows, expensive landscaping, and a five-car garage that was bigger than many homes. The Yateses certainly didn’t appear to be hurting for money. “Since Xenia had no clue where to begin to investigate a murder, she figured working at the scene of the crime was her best bet.”
