Murder of a Bookstore Babe

then picked up the phone and dialed. A few minutes later he hung up and said to Skye, “He’s in the clear. Do you want to call Rise to ask about Xavier?”

“No.” Skye made a wry face. “But I will.” Could this be more awkward?

It was not a pleasant conversation, and Skye hoped she’d never have to have a similar one again, but Rise did confirm Xavier’s alibi.

After Wally buzzed the dispatcher and instructed her to allow Xavier to leave, he sank back into his chair.

After a couple of minutes, Skye asked, “Are there any other leads?”

“No.” Wally laced his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. “We talked to Kayla’s people, we looked into the burglary angle, and you’ve cleared everyone we know who has a grudge against Rise. We’ll have to expand our inquiry to nonlocal investors who lost money when her firm folded.” He shook his head in disgust. “We’ll also have to start over and reexamine all the evidence again.” He sighed. “I sure wish the crime scene guys would hurry up. They promised me some answers by Monday about those plastic pieces found in the vic’s hair.”

Several more minutes of silence went by before a voice rumbled out of the intercom, “Sorry to interrupt, Chief, but there’s been a multiple-car accident near the entrance ramp to I-55. Our ambulance is on its way, and I’ve called for backup from the Clay Center and Brooklyn EMTs. Do you want their officers, too?”

“I’ll let you know. Right now, get any of our men you can locate out to the scene ASAP.” Wally had already leaped to his feet. “I’m on my way.” He was halfway to the door when he turned to Skye and tossed her a set of keys attached to a sterling silver disc. “Take the Thunderbird. There’s no telling how long I’ll be.”

“Be careful,” Skye called after his retreating back. “I’ll come by and pick you up tomorrow after church.”

Skye’s head was spinning with conflicting emotions as she drove herself home. On one hand, she was relieved that Xavier had an alibi. She hadn’t let herself think how awful it would be if Frannie’s father was the killer. It was also great that Xavier had a decent chance of getting his and the veterans’ club’s money back eventually.

On the other hand, she was dismayed. With the exception of the men she’d dated in the past, Skye had always considered herself a good judge of character. But Xavier, someone she had grown to like and trust, had lied to his boss and had an affair with his best friend’s wife. Apparently he had fooled her, and she worried about whom else she might have misjudged.

Then there was the little annoying fact that Kayla’s murder investigation was stalled. They had completely run out of leads.

Skye parked the T-bird, wiggled out of the car, and dragged herself up the front steps of her house. When she opened the door, she heard the phone. Who in the world would be calling after midnight? As she dodged past Bingo, who had greeted her with his tail waving in the air and purring, the ringing stopped. She ran into the kitchen, hoping to catch whoever was calling while they were in the process of leaving a message, but the flashing light was already blinking.

She checked the number on caller ID, didn’t recognize it, and immediately hit REDIAL, but no one answered. Skye frowned. It had been less than a minute or two since the ringing had stopped. What had they done? Drop the phone and run away?

Bingo rubbed against her shins, and she scooped him up, cradling the furry comfort device. She pushed the button to hear her messages. The first trio were from her mother, each more hysterical and demanding than the last. Essentially it was the same old, same old. May wanted to know where Skye was and why she wasn’t answering her phone, where Vince was and why he wasn’t answering his phone, and why her ungrateful children were trying to give her a heart attack and kill her.

Skye erased all three, feeling a little guilty, but she knew May’s penchant for exaggeration and was fairly certain an unanswered call would not put her mom in the hospital. Besides, Skye had no news, and she didn’t have the energy to spend an hour or more reiterating that fact or reassuring her mother that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were not stampeding down Basin Street. It was too late to phone her parents anyway.

The last message, the one she had apparently just missed, was from Vince. Skye sagged against the counter in relief that he was okay. “I’m fine. Talk to you in person tomorrow night. Come to Tales and Treats cafe at six, and tell Mom and Dad to be there at half past, since you know they’ll be at least fifteen minutes early. Make sure you arrive before they do.”

Son of a gun! Skye’s mood darkened. What was her brother up to? The bookstore closed at four on Sunday, and obviously he hadn’t phoned their mother, which meant Skye would have to do it. Thank goodness it was past her parents’ bedtime.

Lights-out for May and Jed was ten thirty, as soon as the news was over. She could put off the call until tomorrow morning, when she was awake and alert. Skye had learned a long time ago that talking to her mom without being in full control of her faculties was never a good idea, especially when she had something to hide.

Before going to sleep, Skye needed to unwind, and she knew just the way. As she waited for the tub to fill, she stripped off her clothes, then twisted her hair into a knot on the top of her head. Looking around the newly enlarged and remodeled bathroom, she smiled contentedly.

It had been worth every cent she’d paid to bring the space into the twenty-first century—and heaven knows she’d spent a lot of pennies. Gone were the leaky pipes, dingy linoleum, and antiquated fixtures. Now there was a separate shower, oversize Jacuzzi, and built-in vanity. She had chosen shades of green for the tile and the paint, and as she slipped into the hot water and leaned back, she gazed at images of clouds rather than a cracked ceiling.

Stretching out, she let the bubbles flow through her fingers, willing her mind to stop whirring and relax. She had dozed off when she jerked awake. There, at the edge of her dream, was a clue, but as she concentrated, it slipped away. She knew she was overlooking something in the murder case, but what?

She reached out idly to stroke Bingo, who was curled up on the bath mat waiting patiently for her to go to bed. What was she missing? They had checked out all of the local people who might want Rise dead. The only ones left would be someone from her previous life, who might have tracked her to Scumble River. But was that really likely?

Rise had been cleared by the law, and her boss was in prison. Unhappy investors were more apt to go after him, weren’t they? So, where did that leave the investigation?

Suddenly, Skye sat straight up, splashing Bingo, who ran away with an indignant howl. What if she’d been mistaken all along? What if Rise wasn’t the intended target and Kayla was? What if the murderer had killed the woman he intended to kill?

Damn! That would put them right back where they had started. Wally’s officers had looked into Kayla and hadn’t found any reason someone would want to kill her. So who had done it?

Skye toed open the drain and got out of the tub. She didn’t have an answer to that question, but she was pretty sure she knew where to find someone who might. Someone who wouldn’t have told the police anything. As Father Burns always said, the Lord would provide.

May was glad to hear that Vince was okay, but she was extremely displeased that he’d called his sister and not his mother. May was also unhappy that Skye had not gotten any details as to his whereabouts. But she agreed that she and Jed would be at the bookstore cafe as per Vince’s instructions. The only thing that had saved Skye from lengthy recriminations was that her mom had to get to six o’clock Mass.

Which was why she had called May at five forty a.m. Thank goodness Xenia attended a later service, since Skye wasn’t sure what her priority would have been if the teenager also went to the early Mass—avoiding May or talking to Xenia.

Skye didn’t know how long Xenia had been going to church, since Skye usually went at eight. But a few months ago, she’d had to attend the eleven o’clock Mass, and she’d been surprised to see the teenager there. Somehow the Goth-punk apparel didn’t seem to go with Catholicism, but Xenia was anything but predictable.

Now Skye kept an eye on her as Father Burns concluded the service, saying, “The Mass is ended. Go in peace.”

After the parishioners responded, “Thanks be to God,” Father Burns added, “Remember, a closed mind is usually accompanied by an open mouth.”

Smiling, Skye joined the congregation shuffling down the aisle toward the exit. As always, Mass had made her feel at peace, but it was time to talk to Xenia about Kayla. And this time she wasn’t giving up until she got the