Murder of a Royal Pain (4 page)

Shoot!
She didn’t have time for this. In fifteen minutes she was supposed to meet with Mrs. Idell, one of the district’s most difficult parents, regarding her son, Travis, one of Scumble River High’s most recalcitrant students.

Skye jiggled the doorknob and tried the key again, but it still refused to fit. She blew a curl out of her eyes. There was only one solution: Find the custodian and have him open the door. Of course, this meant Skye would be late for the meeting, which was a serious problem. Mrs. Idell’s Jekyll-and-Hyde personality was always tricky to deal with, and having to wait made her even more fiendish.

She’d have to have the janitor paged. Thank goodness the PA system had been repaired. A few more days without it and Skye would have been tempted to start breeding carrier pigeons.

Naturally, the school secretary was already swamped with three other emergencies. She tapped her foot until Opal hung up the phone, handed a frantic teacher a stack of photocopies, and ushered a limping girl into the nurse’s office. Then Skye said, “Can you call the custodian down here? There’s something wrong with my key and I can’t get into my office.”

Opal tensed as if expecting to be hit. “I tried all the keys myself before I gave them out. Are you sure you put it in the right way?”

“Yes,” Skye snapped. Had Opal slipped over the edge? Skye knew the secretary was strung tighter than a tennis racket, but she usually managed to avoid getting caught in the net. “Why would I suddenly not know how to use a key I’ve had for the past four years?”

“Well, there’s your problem.” Opal’s expression relaxed. “You need to use the new key. Remember, the lock has been changed.”

“When? Why?”

“Jackie said too many people had keys and her files were extremely sensitive, so she wanted to limit access to her office.”

“
Her
office!” Skye screeched, feeling the last of her patience evaporate. “It’s my office, too. She hasn’t even been here two weeks and suddenly it’s
her
office? Why wasn’t I consulted?”

Opal flinched. “I’m sure I don’t know. Do you want to speak to Mr. Knapik about it?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t have time right now. Just give me the new key.”

“We only made three. One to keep here in the main office, one for Jackie, and one for you. The custodians will use their master keys when they clean.”

“Fine.” Skye forced herself to take a deep breath. “Give me the one you had made for me.”

“Jackie took it. She said she’d give it to you.” Opal smiled fondly. “She’s so sweet. She said she’d save me the trouble, since she knew how busy I am.”

“Yeah, it takes a lot of time to hand me a freaking key,” Skye muttered under her breath, then said aloud, “Well, Jackie hasn’t given it to me yet, and now I’m late for a meeting with Travis’s mother.”

“Oh, my.” Opal’s pale complexion grew pastier. Everyone on staff knew Mrs. Idell’s reputation. The secretary hastily opened a flat gray metal box attached to the wall beside her desk and revealed row after row of keys. After selecting one in the middle, she handed it to Skye. “Be sure to bring it back when you’re through with it.”

Wordlessly, Skye snatched the tiny metal ring from Opal’s fingers, turned on her heels, and ran back toward her office. The new key fit perfectly and she slammed the door open, flicking on the light as she rushed inside.

A few steps into the room she came to an abrupt halt. Had there been a break-in? But why would a thief rearrange the furniture?

Skye had last been at the high school on Tuesday afternoon. Now, only three days later, her desk had been pushed against the side wall and piles and piles of manila folders were stacked on and around it. Her cherished leather chair was behind Jackie’s desk, which had been moved over by the door where Skye’s had previously been, and the trapezoidal table that had been perfect for giving IQ and achievement tests had been replaced by a round one that would make their administration more awkward.

Skye’s mouth hung open as she worked out what had happened. Obviously Hurricane Jackie had struck and this was the aftermath of the storm.

The old guidance file cabinets were lined up just inside the door, and taped to them were handwritten signs saying,
Please remove
, which meant the folders on Skye’s desk must be from those cabinets.

Jackie would have had to take out the contents of the huge four-drawer monstrosities in order to move them—they would have been too heavy to budge when they were full. Skye wondered when, or if, the other woman was planning to put back the files.

Skye glanced at the wall clock. Ten past eight. There wasn’t much she could do now, but she did take a few seconds to reclaim her leather chair. Then, after locating the file she needed, she hurried toward the conference room, wondering what other unpleasant surprises were in store for her.

“You’re late, Ms. Denison,” Zinnia Idell announced when Skye had seated herself at the table. “I bill my time at two hundred and fifty dollars an hour. You have wasted sixty dollars and fifty cents.”

Skye’s fingers itched to write the woman a check. Instead she gripped the edge of the table and said, “I’m terribly sorry.” If it were any other parent, she would have explained her delay. However, knowing there were no acceptable excuses where Mrs. Idell was concerned, Skye opened the folder and asked, “Shall we get started?”

“I’m not the one holding up the proceedings.” Mrs. Idell picked up her BlackBerry. “I’m making a note to telephone the superintendent when we get through here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear from you.” Considering that the Idells had Dr. Wraige on speed dial, he wouldn’t be surprised by the call.

“Are you being sarcastic?” Color crept up Mrs. Idell’s neck, making her look like a thermometer. “Travis’s education is a serious matter.”

“Yes, it is. Which is why I asked you to come in.” Skye attempted to take back control of the meeting. She had been dealing with this particular parent since her first day on the job. Back then, Travis had been an eighth grader, and it had come to the school’s attention that he had hosted several sex parties during the previous summer while his parents were at work.

Several of the girls he had persuaded to participate had spilled the beans, which had resulted in their fathers, brothers, and the occasional cousin pounding the crap out of Travis. These beatings had caused his parents, a wealthy couple who commuted to Chicago for their high-power jobs, to demand that he be taught at home until they were convinced it was safe for him to come back to school.

The principal and superintendant had been glad to acquiesce and wait for the furor over the sex parties to die down. A few months later, Travis had been able to return and finish out the year without further incident. But upon entering high school, he had taken up his old ways.

Skye had sat in on or chaired at least a dozen detention, suspension, and other types of disciplinary meetings concerning Travis. Mr. and Mrs. Idell had consistently refused offers of counseling and/or psychological assessment, and not once had they ever conceded that their son was at fault.

Now, as Mrs. Idell finished reading the discipline referral Skye had given her, she said, “This is ridiculous. My son did not plagiarize his English paper.”

Skye handed her the original essay, which the teacher had found on the Internet. “This is what he copied it from.”

Mrs. Idell threw the paper back at Skye, refusing to look at it. “It’s easy to manufacture evidence of this sort. You have it in for him. You’ve been trying to pin something on him ever since that nonsense in eighth grade. Anytime Travis has been accused of misconduct, you’re right there egging everyone on. What is he? Your job security? No doubt you’re afraid they’ll eliminate your position if there aren’t enough kids getting into trouble.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Skye was shocked at Mrs. Idell’s vicious attack. “Yes, I am the one you see when your son gets into trouble, but the only one responsible for Travis’s behavior is Travis.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Skye paused, considering whether she should continue, and decided that despite the unpleasant consequences, she was Travis’s advocate, and it was past time to talk to his mother about her parenting skills. In previous meetings with the Idells, Homer had forbidden Skye from bringing up the subject, but he was out sick today, and his message had said that she should handle the conference on her own. This was her chance to say something she should have said several years ago.

“You know, Mrs. Idell, you’re right.” Skye made eye contact with the woman.

“Of course I am.”

“There are two other people who have a huge impact on Travis’s behavior.”

“Those two awful boys he hangs out with.” Mrs. Idell nodded.

“No. You and your husband.”

“How dare you?” Mrs. Idell’s face turned scarlet and she leapt from her chair, sending it banging into the wall.

“Please sit down, Mrs. Idell.” Skye felt a spark of fear. It was never good when parents started jumping around the meeting room like angry orangutans. Embarrassed by the slight tremor in her voice, Skye stated, “I’ll have to end this meeting right now if you don’t immediately return to your seat.”

Mrs. Idell drew in a deep breath and looked around. She seemed surprised to find herself standing and sank back into her chair. Her brows met in a petulant frown. “I always knew you thought we were bad parents.”

Skye ignored the woman’s accusation. What could she say? She could hardly admit Mrs. Idell was right. “Uh.” Skye cleared her throat. “By never admitting that Travis has done anything wrong and protecting him from the consequences of his behavior, you’ve shown him that he can get away with anything.”

“We’ve had to defend him from people like you who are determined to make him a scapegoat for whatever happens in this school. Look at this spurious accusation. You can’t prove he cheated.”

“We feel we can and we have.” Skye braced herself and added, “Thus we are suspending him for two weeks.”

“You can’t suspend him. He has a learning disability.”

“What?” Skye knew he had never been tested for special-education services. She’d offered, thinking he might have a behavior disorder, but the Idells had always refused.

“We had him privately assessed this past summer, and the psychiatrist said that’s why he acts out. He’s frustrated by his disability.”

“We’ll need to see those records, and you can pick up a referral from the office on the way out.” Skye kept her face expressionless. This parent had more surprises up her sleeve than Penn and Teller. “Meanwhile, I’ll review his file and schedule a meeting of the pupil personnel services team as soon as I receive your completed form and the doctor’s report.”

“I’ll drop both off this afternoon when I come back for the Promfest meeting.” Mrs. Idell stood. “I expect the matter of his suspension to be dismissed.”

“I’ll have to consult with the principal. We can’t make any decision until we evaluate all the information.”

“Now that we know he’s disabled,” Mrs. Idell said, ignoring Skye’s previous statement, “I want his entire disciplinary record expunged.”

“I’ll bring that to the principal’s attention.”

“You do that.” Mrs. Idell moved toward the door. “And remember, unfortunate things happen to despicable people. I’m guessing fate is about to pay you a visit.”

“Then he’d better bring chocolate,” Skye muttered under her breath as she escorted Mrs. Idell to the front office.

After making sure the woman received the correct paperwork, and watching as she exited the building, Skye left Homer a message. The principal would have a conniption fit when he heard about Mrs. Idell’s demands, but he needed to know ASAP. Mrs. Idell was probably already on the phone to the superintendent.

Skye asked Opal to make sure Homer got her note, then returned to her office.
Shoot.
What was Jackie doing there? They had agreed to a usage schedule, and the social worker was supposed to be at the junior high on Fridays.

Dang.
Skye hadn’t had a chance to think how to tell Jackie that she was unhappy with her behavior without sounding like she was blowing the whole matter out of proportion. But the fact that Jackie had once again moved Skye’s chair behind her own desk and was sitting in it made Skye wonder if churlish wasn’t the way to go.

Skye counted to ten, then said as pleasantly as she could manage, “We need to talk.”

“Can it wait? I’m kind of busy right now.” Jackie didn’t look up from her computer screen—she had provided her own laptop, stating that she couldn’t work without it.

“No. Sorry, it can’t.” Skye moved closer to the other woman’s desk. “First of all, I’d like my chair back.”

“This is your chair?” Jackie’s brow puckered.

“Yes. That’s why it was behind
my
desk.” Skye folded her arms. “May I have it back, please?”

“Of course. I’m so sorry.” Jackie leapt up and halfheartedly shoved the chair in Skye’s direction. “I had no idea it was your personal property. It’s just that I’ve been having some back pain, and the folding chairs seem to make it worse.”

Skye opened her mouth to say that Jackie could keep the chair, but reconsidered. She didn’t quite buy the innocent act. Wheeling the chair back behind her desk, Skye said, “Thank you. Perhaps you could ask the custodian if there’s a more comfortable one in the storeroom. He’s got a lot of furniture back there.”

“That’s a great idea.” Jackie beamed. “But I’ll ask Gloria. She’s been such a sweetie.”

“I didn’t realize you’d met the night custodian.”

“I often work late. Mr. Knapik seems very pleased about that.”

“Oh.” Skye filed away that bit of knowledge. “I also wanted to ask you not to make changes without consulting me.”

“I don’t understand.” Jackie puckered her brow again. “What changes?”

“The new lock—which, by the way, you never gave me the key for—as well as rearranging the furniture, changing the table.”