“Oh.” Skye ground her teeth, angry she had given Pru an opening to ridicule her. The woman had done enough of that when Skye had been in her class twenty years ago. “Right.”
“Let’s see.” Pru
“Sorry.”
“I remember thinking the name was appropriate.” Pru’s pause was indisputably for effect. “The little boy was such a hellion.”
Skye held her breath, waiting for the big revelation to which Pru was building up.
After several seconds, Pru shook her head. “No.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m afraid it’s flown out of my head.”
“Of course.” Pru looked meaningfully at the wall clock, then glowered at Skye. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to use the few minutes left of my planning period for my own work, instead of yours.”
As Skye walked back to her office, she processed what Pru had told her. What boy’s name could be associated with the word
“Adolph?” Wally guessed. It was four thirty and they were in his Thunderbird on the way to the Up A Lazy River Motor Court to talk to Flint James. “Damian?”
“That’s a good one.” Skye had been thinking of names since she’d left Pru. “Attila?”
“Fidel?” Wally parked the Ford in an empty slot next to a red Maserati.
“I’ve got it.” Wally exited the T-bird, walked around the hood, and held out his hand to Skye. “Cain. Wasn’t he the ultimate hellion?”
“Yes. I’d have to say killing your brother qualifies you for that title.” Skye marched up the sidewalk to cabin number two and knocked, paused, then knocked again when there was no response. “That’s odd. He should be here. When I called Uncle Charlie just before we drove over here, he said that Flint James was in his room. He’d pulled in a few minutes before I phoned.”
Wally moved Skye out of the way, stepped closer, and pounded on the door.
This time they heard a muffled voice yell, “Be right there!”
While they waited, Skye spotted the bass player from Flint’s backup band peering out his cottage’s window. She waved and he let the curtain drop. Turing to Wally, she said, “Speaking of Cain, do you think Suzette’s brother might have killed her? After all, the media has been all over this murder and he hasn’t come forward. Maybe that’s why.”
Before he could respond, the door was flung open and Flint James in all his nearly naked glory stood on the other side of the threshold.
Skye swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. The small bath towel that Flint wore wrapped low on his hips didn’t leave much to the imagination. She caught herself hoping for a strong gust of wind.
“Sorry.” The singer grinned and hitched the terry cloth rectangle a little higher. “I wasn’t expecting company. Rex had me on the dog and pony show circuit all day and I needed to wash off the sleaze.”
“No problem, partner.” Wally got his Texas on and he slung his arm around Skye. “We were on our way to dinner, but I saw your car and thought this might be a good time to clear up a few things.”
Skye hid a smile. So that’s why Wally was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots and they were using his private car. He had said they would try to keep this laid-back to throw the suspects off, but she hadn’t realized they were going in disguise.
“If you don’t mind, could we come in and talk for a minute?” Wally asked.
“Sure.” Flint stepped back. “Make yourself to home.” He headed toward the bathroom. “Let me throw on some clothes.”
While the star was dressing, Skye whispered to Wally, “I take it my role in this little performance is as the dumb girlfriend.”
“Not necessarily dumb.” Wally leaned his backside against the desk. “Just not as smart as you really are, at least at first.”
“Gotcha.” Skye sat on the only available chair and studied the room. It contained a double bed, a dresser with a TV on top, and two nightstands. She noted that Flint’s belongings were all neatly arranged.
A few seconds later Flint returned, toweling his hair. “What can I do you for?”
Wally asked routine questions about the singer’s activities on Monday afternoon, where he’d been at the time of the murder, and what his relationship with Suzette had been like.
Flint’s answers were exactly the same as in his first interview. He’d been alone in his room from two until five, and he and Suzette were friendly colleagues.
Finally Flint said, “Man, I answered all these questions before. If you don’t have anything new, I need to get ready for an evening gig and I’d like to rest for a couple of hours before then.”
“Right. Of course.” Wally straightened but subtly put pressure on Skye’s shoulder, indicating she should stay seated and that it was her turn to take over the interrogation. “We surely don’t want to keep you from that. Thanks for your patience.”
“I’m happy to cooperate with the police.” Flint held out his hand.
“Mr. James,” Skye spoke from behind Wally. She could see the singer, but he could only glimpse her. “Before we go, I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your concert last Saturday night.”
“Why thank you, little lady.” Flint’s baritone was as smooth as twelve-year-old scotch. “I truly love singing to a live audience.”
“You know”—Skye let her voice drop as if imparting a secret—“for a while there I was afraid the concert wasn’t going to happen.”
“Oh?” Flint’s expression was neutral. “Why is that?”
“Folks here in Scumble River are pretty impatient and I thought they’d leave when it didn’t start on time.” Skye giggled. “Good thing there was all that free booze available.” She put her hand over her mouth, pretending to be embarrassed. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“But the concert was nearly half an hour late.” Skye shook her head. “Some people thought that was downright rude of you all.”
“I agree.” Flint’s ears were red. “I hate speaking ill of the dead, but the delay was entirely Suzette’s fault. I was there early.”
“I know.” Skye stood and moved around Wally until she was facing the singer. “I overheard you talking to Mr. Taylor before she arrived.”
“How did you—?” The beautiful bronze skin of Flint’s face became a jaundiced yellow. “Where were you? I mean—what did you hear?”
“I heard you say that you didn’t trust Suzette. That she was a schemer and had sweet-talked Mr. Taylor into giving her one of your best songs.” Skye moved closer to the singer. “Is that what you call being friendly colleagues ?”
CHAPTER 18
“Your Cheatin’ Heart”
Flint stuttered for a moment or two, then took a breath, smoothed his hair, and pulled his celebrity persona around him like Superman’s cape. His trademark sexy grin appeared, and in a sensuous drawl he said, “You must have misunderstood me, darlin’.”
“I don’t think so.” Skye stared coolly into his molten toffee eyes and crossed her arms. “I was only a few feet from an open window.”
“Have you been around many performers?” Flint intensified his smile.
“That depends on what you mean by
