Murder of a Creped Suzette

“Fifty more?” Skye squeaked. “That seems like an awful lot to feed him and take him out a few times. How much is your regular price?”

“Forty-eight dollars.” Sharp little canines showed as Puppy smiled.

“So ninety-eight total?” Hell’s bells! At the rate she was hemorrhaging money, Skye wasn’t sure she could pay her bills this month.

“And there’s a nonoptional eighteen percent gratuity.” If Puppy had a tail, it would have been wagging. “The total bill is payable in advance.”

“That’s highway robbery!” Skye’s face turned red and she badly wanted to slap those cute little ears right off Puppy’s head.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know your own dog’s history.” Puppy shrugged. “Without the completed forms, Toby’s care will be a lot more work for me.” She curled her lip. “Take it or leave it.”

Skye wished she could walk out, but what would she do with Toby? Her only option would be to call in sick, and she couldn’t do that. Too many meetings would have to be canceled and rescheduled.

Vowing that she would find another solution by tomorrow, Skye asked weakly, “Do you take credit cards?”

“Of course.” Puppy straightened her faux ears. “But the extra fee is cash only.”

Skye’s shoulders slumped and she reluctantly placed her credit card, a twenty, two tens, a five, and four singles into Puppy’s outstretched paw.

“You owe me another dollar.”

Skye sighed and dug through the change at the bottom of her purse, coming up with two quarters, four dimes, a nickel, and five pennies.

Puppy handed her a receipt and said, “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look really frazzled. You should do what I do when I’m feeling tense.”

“What?” Skye asked before she could stop herself.

“I handle stressful situations like our canine friends do.” Puppy’s expression was serious. “If you can’t eat it or hump it, pee on it and walk away.”

After politely agreeing that Puppy’s stress relief idea had merit, Skye said good-bye to Toby and hurried out of the building. It was now seven o’clock, and since all she had left in her wallet was a coupon good for twenty-five cents off a bottle of salad dressing, she had to hit the ATM before going to school.

There were only two ATMs in Scumble River, and one was, thank goodness, on Skye’s way to work. She parked in front of the Scumble River Savings and Loan and hurried into the foyer. The bank’s interior was dark, but the area containing the ATM was brightly lit.

Skye rushed up to the machine, her debit card at the ready. She punched in her PIN number, then hesitated. How much cash should she take out?

At the pace she was spending money, she should probably get the limit—five hundred dollars—but she decided to be cautious and take only half of the maximum allowed. Her purse would probably be secure in her desk drawer, but better safe than sorry.

She waited impatiently for the bills to come out of the slot, then tucked the cash inside her tote bag and grabbed the receipt. Whirling around, she bit back a scream.

“I guess you didn’t hear me come in.” Simon Reid stood a few feet away from her, a charming smile on his handsome face. “Maybe they should install chimes over the door.”

Skye nodded in agreement, waiting for her heart to return to its normal rhythm before trying out her voice. Simon had always been able to sneak up on her. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he floated above the ground instead of walking like a normal person.

“Sorry I scared you.” Every strand of Simon’s short auburn hair was in place, his cheeks were freshly shaved, and his black wingtip shoes were so perfectly polished he could use them to check that his tie was straight.

Instantly, Skye became conscious of her own rumpled appearance. She tugged at the empire waist of her plum-colored knit dress and brushed white dog hair from its elbow-length bell sleeves.

“Are you on your way to school?” Simon’s finely sculpted features hinted at an elegance and sophistication that were rare in Scumble River.

“Yes.” Skye glanced down at her black tights. The buckle on Toby’s collar had caught in them, so there was a huge run that started from the top of her ballet flats and disappeared under the hem of her skirt. She’d planned to change into the emergency panty hose she kept in her desk drawer as soon as she got to school.

“I’m glad I ran into you.” Simon’s warm tenor washed over her. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“In your role as coroner?” Skye stopped fussing with her clothes and met his gaze. “Is there some evidence about the murder you want to share?”

“No.” Simon’s hazel eyes were hooded. “I’m sure Boyd has filled you in on those facts.” He paused. “Although I do have a question about Suzette.”

“What?”

“When you first met her, did she look familiar to you?” Simon wrinkled his brow. “When I saw her perform last Saturday night, she reminded me of someone, but I just couldn’t put my finger on who.”

“Not really.” Skye tried to remember if she had thought Suzette looked like anyone. “Her parents only lived here a year, and that was back in 1978.”

“Then there’s no way I could have known her mother or father. I would only have been eight years old at the time, and I didn’t move to town until 1998, when I inherited the funeral home from my uncle.” Simon massaged one temple. “Does she have any relatives in Scumble River?”

“No. As far as I know, the police haven’t been able to locate any family.”

“I see.” Simon shrugged. “I guess she just had that kind of face.”

“That could be it.”

“Back to the reason I was glad to run into you,” Simon said. “I hear you have a houseguest who needs alternative accommodations.”

“Who told you that?”

“Trixie mentioned it to Frannie yesterday afternoon at the drugstore. Then Frannie told Mom when she got to work last night.” Frannie was a waitress at the bowling alley that Simon owned and his mother, Bunny, managed.

“I should have known. There are no secrets around here.” Skye twisted a strand of the gold chain that hung past her scoop neckline. “I suppose Bunny told you the whole story.”

“About Homer and the shoe baptism? Yes, she did.” Simon chuckled. “That must have been quite a sight.”

“Yes.” Skye giggled. “I’ve never seen Homer so upset, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Anyway, if you still need someone to take care of the dog, I’d be glad to do it.”

“Why?” Skye asked, wondering if this was another of Simon’s schemes to win back her affections.

“I’ve been thinking of getting a pet.” He examined the crease in the pants of his olive green wool suit. “And this would be a good way to see if a dog is right for me. A bit like being a foster parent.”

“Well . . .” Skye was suddenly reluctant to give up Toby. “I’m not sure—”

“How about I take him during the day while you’re at work,” Simon suggested. “You can pick him up on your way home after school, and if you need me to take care of him longer, just give me a call.”

“You’d have to keep him with you,” Skye warned. “Believe me, you do not want him bored and alone in your house, or anywhere else.”

“So I heard.” Simon grinned. “Actually, that works out perfectly for me, since most wakes are held in the late afternoon or evening.”

“How about interments or when you have to consult with the bereaved?” Skye was still not sure this was a good plan. She didn’t want to owe Simon a favor.

“I’ll set up one of the empty rooms for him at the funeral home with a bed and some toys.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Xavier can help.”

“I’m so glad you talked Xavier into coming back to work for you after he quit last month.”

“Me, too.” Simon shuffled his feet. “So, what do you say? Will you trust me with the little guy?”

“Yes.” Skye realized she really couldn’t afford to turn down his offer. “He’s already set for today, but I’ll bring