close he looked like a sheared lamb—except for the giant round cotton ball–like puff at the end of his tail.
Tentatively, Skye fingered the bright blue bows adorning his head. Those would have to go. But how in the heck were they attached? She had a feeling their removal would require scissors, or maybe even a scalpel.
“Wow.” It had taken Skye a moment to realize that Puppy was staring at her, anxiously awaiting her reaction. “He really looks different.”
“Do you like it?” Puppy asked. “I had some extra time, and I felt a little bad about how much you had to pay for him to stay here, so I fixed him up.” When Skye didn’t respond, Puppy added, “It’s on the house.”
“It’s amazing.” Skye figured that was the only honest answer that wouldn’t hurt the woman’s feelings. “Thank you.”
After thanking Puppy again, Skye headed toward her rendezvous with Wally. When she rocketed into the church’s parking lot a few minutes later, Wally was leaning against the front fender of his Thunderbird. Not quite the undercover vehicle Skye would have chosen to avoid reporters, but a step up from a police cruiser.
Wally pushed upright as she squealed to a stop a few feet away. While Skye fumbled for her tote bag and Toby’s leash, Wally opened her door. She handed him the dog, got out, and gave him a quick kiss.
“What the hell happened to this poor little guy?” Wally held Toby up and away from him as if the dog had on a dirty diaper.
“It’s a long story,” Skye answered with a sigh. “Suffice it to say the owner of Doggy Daycare wears a headband with fake dog ears attached, wags her backside like a tail, and calls herself Puppy Pointer.”
“You’re kidding.” Wally did a double take. “What’s her real name?”
“That’s it.” Skye shrugged. “Apparently she had it legally changed.” Skye paused to reflect on the absurdity of a grown woman called Puppy, then asked, “So what did Owen have to say?”
Wally cocked his thumb at the T-bird. “I’ll tell you all about it on the way.”
“Okay.” As she climbed in, Skye asked, “Where are we going?”
“That self-storage place halfway between here and Laurel.” Wally settled Toby on Skye’s lap—the sports car didn’t have a backseat—and slid behind the wheel. “Turns out all the files aren’t in the PD’s basement after all. Warehousing of the older records was outsourced when I was still a rookie.”
“Who’s the owner of that place related to?” Skye asked with a sidelong glance. “Nepotism is the only explanation for the city using a business located outside the city limits.”
Wally smirked. “You.”
Skye wasn’t at all surprised to hear it was one of her family members. She was kissing cousins to half the county, and that was just on her mother’s side. “Which of my many relatives is the proprietor?”
“Our esteemed mayor.” Wally turned onto the road that would take them toward Laurel.
“Oh!” If Skye didn’t know how small-town government worked, she might have wondered how the chief of police could be unaware of where all the files were stored. But in a good-ol’-boy regime, unless you knew the right question to ask, no one would volunteer the information. “How did you find out there were more records than just the ones in the basement?”
“Dante told me when he called to ream me out for not wrapping up this case fast enough.”
“He is truly a pain in the butt,” Skye commiserated. “If it’s any consolation, he acts the same way with the family.”
“You know, he’s one of only a very few people I’d be willing to name a building after.” Wally grinned. “Of course, he’d have to be dead first.”
Skye laughed, then asked, “So how did the storage issue come up?”
“I lost my temper.” Wally’s expression was sheepish. “I made it plain that if the police board had allowed me to have all the records digitized, as I had requested several years ago, maybe I could access the information I needed to solve Suzette’s murder.”
“I’m sure my uncle took that well. He so loves criticism.” Skye hid a smile. “Is that when Dante revealed the hush-hush location?”
“Yes. It seems that when the rent came due for the previous facility, Dante had the city hall custodians move everything to the place he owned. That must have been when the ones in the basement got all messed up, since he instructed them to reshuffle the boxes and leave the most recent ten years’ worth at the PD.” Wally scowled. “Of course, no one thought to mention any of this to me.”
“What a shock.” Skye snickered, then demanded, “Now, what about Owen?”
“He told me the same thing about his absence on Saturday afternoon and evening that he told Trixie.” Wally stopped for a grain truck turning into a field. “He ran into an old friend after his business meeting and they went into Joliet for a drink.”
“What was the name of the friend?” Skye asked. “Did that person confirm Owen’s story?”
“Owen wouldn’t identify his companion. He hemmed and hawed, and said he’d rather not involve anyone else.” Wally’s expression was rueful. “He did, however, give me permission to look at his truck so I could see that there was no damage from any accident.”
“Rats!” Skye stopped petting Toby. “Did you promise him that whatever he told you would stay between the two of you?”
“Yes, but I could tell he didn’t trust me.” Wally glowered. “And when I pressed him, he wouldn’t budge. That guy is more stubborn than ants at a picnic.”
“Double crap!”
“Furthermore, since everything that points to him as a suspect is circumstantial, I have no way to compel him to tell me.” Wally tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Plus, my hands are tied because I really don’t want to alert him to the fact that he might be a suspect.”
“Well, that stinks.” Skye scratched behind Toby’s ears, causing the little dog’s tail to thump like a metronome and his hind end to wiggle in ecstasy. “On another note, did you get my message about Suzette’s twin?”
“Yes.” Wally concentrated on navigating the T-bird around a curve. “Good work.”
“Thanks.” Skye basked in Wally’s praise. “Have you found out his name?”
“Not so far. Like everything else to do with this case, the light at the end of the tunnel always turns out to be glowing eyes with claws and teeth.” Wally blew out an irritated breath. “Discovering the brother’s identity is turning out to be harder than it should be.”
“Can’t you just get ahold of his birth certificate?” Skye asked.
“I put Quirk on that as soon as I got your message. But since we don’t know where Suzette and her twin were born, he hasn’t had any luck.”
“So, what is Quirk doing now?”
“He’s checking state by state”—Wally’s lips formed a thin line—“starting with Illinois and moving outward. So far, he hasn’t found any male with the last name of Neal who shares Suzette’s birthday.”
“Is there any other way to find Suzette’s twin?” Skye asked.
“The county crime scene techs have her laptop and are looking through her e-mail and files. And the Nashville police are talking to her friends and neighbors, so maybe they’ll come across someone who can help us identify her brother.” Wally shook his head. “They already searched her apartment and didn’t find anything helpful—no birth certificate or passport or personal correspondence.”
“So if there’s nothing on her computer and none of the people in Nashville know anything, what next?”
“If the name of her son isn’t in Paulette Neal’s file, I’ll try the federal databank.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a database of birth records of all fifty states.” Wally frowned. “Unfortunately, budget cuts, red tape, and not having the full name of the person for whom the information is being requested means there’d be a long wait for requests to be processed. It could be more than a month before they get back to us.”
“Oh.” Skye felt frustrated by yet another roadblock; then she had a thought. “Hey, I ran into Simon at the ATM this morning and he mentioned he thought Suzette looked familiar.”
“So?”
“So, if we ask him to think about it some more, maybe he’ll remember something.”
“I won’t hold my breath, but it’s worth a try,” Wally agreed. “I’ll have Martinez run a picture of Suzette over to Reid tomorrow.”
“Good.” Skye opened her mouth to tell Wally that Simon would be dog sitting for her, but decided later might be a better time to reveal that piece of information. Sometime when Wally was more relaxed.
