going to look for it that afternoon. I was afraid something in it might connect me to Quentin, so I borrowed Dante’s key to the storage facility and took it. Do you want it back?”
“Yes.”
Olive pushed away from the table, rose, and crossed over to a cupboard. She took out a box of spaghetti, opened the flap, and pulled out the rolled-up pages. “Here.”
Wally got to his feet. “Okay.” He, Skye, and Olive moved to the foyer. “We won’t mention any of this to Dante unless it turns out to have something to do with Suzette’s murder.”
Olive blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
Once they were in the car, Skye said to Wally, “I believe Olive. How about you?”
“I believe her, too. Your aunt didn’t kill Suzette, and Paulette’s death was accidental.”
As Wally flipped through the pages of the police report, Skye put the Bel Air in reverse and drove away.
Several minutes passed while Wally read. Finally he said, “As I predicted, the accident report is short—only three pages—and contains minimal information about the incident. Nothing we didn’t already know.” He replaced the paper clip and threw the pages in the backseat. “We’re back to square one.”
CHAPTER 25
“Stand by Your Man”
Since Skye had persuaded the superintendant to let her skip the district’s Teacher Institute meetings, she had Monday off. Few if any of the institute’s programs would have any relevance for her, and in exchange she would attend the Illinois School Psychologists Association’s conference in January, where she could earn the continuing-education credits she needed to renew her certificate.
Celebrating having the day to herself, Skye slept until ten; then, after feeding Bingo—Toby was still with Simon—she decided to treat herself to an early lunch and a good book.
As Skye drove toward McDonald’s, traffic was heavier than usual on Water Street. With the kids out of school, Scumble River’s main drag was bustling. While she was stopped to wait for a gaggle of pedestrians to cross the street—including all five members of Flint James’s backup band—she scanned the parking spaces along the road. Ever since Suzette’s murder, she’d been looking for the black truck she’d seen the singer getting out of at the park.
Nothing on the left side. On the right, red Jeep, green Jag, and blue Avalanche by the dry cleaner. Black pickup in front of Stybr’s Florist. Yel—
Skye’s gaze swung back to the truck. Now that she saw it, she remembered the unusual tow-hitch cover and the metallic bumper sticker. That was the pickup Suzette had gotten out of Saturday night before the concert !
Abruptly, Skye spun the Bel Air’s steering wheel to the right and pulled in behind the truck. Since the florist was bracketed by empty buildings, the driver was probably in the flower shop. Jumping out of her car, she ran across the sidewalk and pushed open the door.
Cool carnation-scented air washed over her face, and Skye took a minute to look around. Only one customer was present, a man in his early thirties wearing jeans and a Pink Floyd T-shirt. She tilted her head. It was Rod Yager. She knew him from his brief stint as a guitarist in her brother’s rock band.
After assuring the clerk she didn’t need any help, Skye turned to the musician and said, “Hi, Rod. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” He smiled. “How’s Vince doing?”
“He’s doing great.” Skye tugged at Rod’s sleeve, pulling him away from the counter. “He and Loretta are house hunting.”
“I heard he got married. That was sure a shocker.” Rod shook his head. “I would have sworn he’d be on the prowl until the day he died.”
“Yep. People are full of surprises.” Skye took a breath, then said, “Speaking of surprises, did you know Suzette Neal?”
“Sort of.” He transferred the bouquet of daisies and mums he was holding to his left hand and hitched up his pants. “I met her when I auditioned for Mr. Taylor.”
“You were with her just before the concert last Saturday night, weren’t you? Did you tell her about my sleuthing?”
“Yeah. She asked me for a ride to Joliet so she could do some shopping at the mall.” Rod rubbed the back of his neck. “But the funny thing was she didn’t buy anything. Just talked to an old guy who she said lived next door to her when she was a baby.”
“Did she mention this man’s name or where he lives now?” Skye wondered if Suzette had found out anything from her chat.
“No, but he works at the bookstore in the mall.” Rod was looking at Skye funny. “If you’re thinking I had anything to do with Suzette’s murder, I can prove I didn’t. I left for a gig on a cruise ship the next day, and I just got back in town this morning. I only found out she was killed a couple of hours ago when I saw it in the newspaper.”
“I see.” That explained why neither the cops nor Skye had spotted his truck around town the past week. “The police will probably want to talk to you and verify your alibi.”
“That’s fine by me.” He snuck a peek at his watch. “Is that it?”
“Yes—No. One more thing.” Skye thought of what the singer had said that night when she had finally shown up for the concert. “Do you know why Suzette would lie to her boss about where she’d been and who she was with?”
“Well . . .” Rod looked distinctly uncomfortable. “She did mention that the guy she worked for was really possessive of her, so it was better if he thought we were cousins.”
“Anything else?” Skye asked.
“She said he was always hitting on her.” Rod sounded angry. “I told her she had talent, and she didn’t have to put up with that kind of shit to be a star. She said it had been okay until recently, because she’d made it clear she’d never sleep with him. But lately he’d been more and more persistent, and just recently he’d started claiming he loved her. She was a little worried about that.”
“Interesting,” Skye said, starting to get a glimmer of an idea.
“I gotta go.” Rod glanced at his watch again. “It’s my mom’s birthday and I’m taking her to lunch.”
“Okay. Thanks for talking to me.”
Skye got her lunch to go at McDonald’s, added a combo for Wally, then drove to the police station. The reporters hadn’t come back, but the PD was full of activity, so she used her key to let herself in through the garage entrance. As she walked down the narrow corridor, she saw Flint James in the interrogation-coffee room.
Wally was standing in the room’s open doorway, and Skye heard him say to Flint, “I’ll be back when your attorney gets here.”
“What’s going on?” Skye asked once Wally had closed and locked the door.
“The DNA results came in an hour ago. The semen the ME found in Suzette belonged to Flint James.”
“Why did he agree to be swabbed if he was guilty?” Skye answered herself: “Either he didn’t think we could recover enough evidence because she was crushed, or he had consensual sex with her and didn’t kill her.”
“Those are both good ideas, and I’d be asking James about them if he hadn’t lawyered up as soon as we arrested him.”
“Shoot!”
“I just spoke with the Nashville police and asked them to see if they can find a witness who saw James entering or leaving Suzette’s apartment there.”
“So you’re free for a while?” Skye brightened. “That means you have time for lunch, right?” She held out the McDonald’s bag.
“Yep.” Wally took her hand. “Let’s go up to my office. I could use a break.”
Before they reached the stairs, shouting erupted from the front of the station. A nanosecond later, Thea, the
