Murder of a Small-Town Honey (10 page)

The sound of the dial tone surprised her. Skye had been sure she’d have to argue with her mother to get her to do anything that rude.

Now the problem was to find a good lawyer with experience in criminal law. Skye flipped through her address book, trying to remember which of her sorority sisters had become the hotshot attorney in Chicago. When she’d joined the Peace Corps, she’d lost touch with most of her college friends, although she was always conscientious about keeping her address book up to date. Finally spotting the name, she punched the numbers into the phone so hard she broke her fingernail.

As the phone rang and rang, Skye chewed on the nail’s jagged tip and chanted in her head,
Be home. Come on, be home.

On the tenth ring the phone was picked up and a groggy voice answered, “Yes?”

“Hi, this is Skye Denison, from Alpha Sigma Alpha. Is this Loretta Steiner?”

“Yes. Who did you say you were? Is this a sorority fund-raising drive?” the voice asked in a bewildered tone.

“No. Look, you were a senior the year I pledged. During second semester I lived two doors down from you in the house. My mom made those special thumbprint cookies everyone loved.” Skye hurried to explain before Loretta hung up the phone.

“Yeah, I remember you. You had the most striking green eyes I’d ever seen. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but if memory serves, you became a lawyer and you practice criminal law. I think I’ve seen you in the
Trib
?” Skye clutched the receiver.

Loretta answered cautiously, “Yes, I’m an attorney and my practice does include criminal cases. Are you in trouble with the law?”

“No, not me, but the police have just arrested my brother for murder. Will you represent him? Can you come right now?” Skye’s voice cracked.

“Where do you live again? Scrambled Eggs or something quaint like that?”

“Scumble River. It’s seventy-five miles south of Chicago, off of I-55. Take the Scumble River exit and follow that route until you come to Coal Mine Road. Turn left. You’ll go over some railroad tracks—Scumble River’s version of a speed bump—and a bridge, then turn left again on Maryland Street. The police station is on the corner of Maryland and Kinsman.”

Loretta’s tone became sober. “Okay, it will take me about an hour and a half to get down to you. Are you at the police station?”

“No.”

“All right. Give me your number, the number at the police station, and your cell phone. When we hang up, go immediately to the station and tell them you’ve retained me. Don’t let your brother answer any questions.”

“I don’t have a cell phone.” Skye slipped on her shoes.

“That’s okay. Just give me the other numbers and get to the station as quick as you can.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Stretching the cord as far as possible, Skye was able to grab her keys from the table in the foyer.

“Don’t thank me yet. I have two questions, then we both need to get going. What’s your brother’s name and did he do it?”

Skye took a deep breath. “His name is Vince Denison and no, he did not do it.”

 

Scumble River’s police department was housed in a two-story red-brick building bisected by a massive double-deep three-door garage.

Accessible from both streets, the police department occupied half the main floor, with the jail and interrogation room on top. Offices of the city hall were on the other side of the building, and the town library was on the second floor of that half.

When Skye arrived, shortly after midnight, the city hall/library part of the building was dark. Her mother’s white Oldsmobile and her father’s old Ford pickup were the only vehicles in the parking lot. To add to her feeling that she was the last person left alive on Earth, Skye saw an empty squad car in the open garage.

There was no one behind the counter when she walked through the frosted-glass door, and the phone was ringing. Standing on tiptoe, she reached over and felt for the lock-release button located under the counter’s lip.

Upon foiling these elaborate security measures, Skye let herself in to the dispatch area. The telephone continued to ring.

“Mom?” Skye called.

Silence except for the ringing phone.

She tried again. “Is anyone here? Should I answer the phone?”

Afraid it was Loretta trying to reach her, Skye picked up the receiver. “Scumble River Police Department. May I help you?”

“May, is that you?” Mayor Clapp’s distinguishing whine came through the handset.

“No, sir, it’s her daughter. May’s not feeling well at the moment,” Skye said.
I’m sure Mom really is sick. I know I feel like throwing up.

“Uh, well, uh, you tell whoever’s on duty that dog is back in my yard raising a ruckus. I want them to drop what they’re doing and get over here right now. Do you hear me, girl?”

“Certainly, sir. I’ll relay your message. Have a good night.”

Walking into the hall and to the bottom of a flight of stairs, Skye yelled as loud as she could, “Mom, Dad, where are you?”

Chief Boyd came hurrying down the stairs. “Boy, I’m glad to see you, Skye.”

She interrupted him. “Why have you arrested my brother?”

“He’s not under arrest. We just brought him in for questioning.”

“At this time of night? What’s he got to do with Mrs. Gumtree’s murder?”

He moved closer. “Look, I can’t discuss this with you. Could you just come up here and convince May that she doesn’t have to sit with Vince? Really, I’m not trying to railroad him. I just want to ask him some questions. The rest of the men have gone home.”

“Sorry, Chief, I was the one who told her to do what she’s doing. His attorney should be here soon, and she’ll straighten things out.”

“Well, at least tell your dad he doesn’t have to wait. He keeps dozing off. I’m afraid he’s going to fall off his chair. ”

“Fine, I’ll get Dad to go home. Don’t you try anything funny with Vince.” As she climbed the stairs, Skye added over her shoulder, “By the way, Mayor Clapp called to request your services. It seems there’s some dog that’s keeping him from getting his beauty sleep, and he’d like your assistance in removing it, ASAP.”

 

Sitting at the dispatcher’s station, Skye waited for Loretta to arrive. The chair was armless and covered in shiny green vinyl. She thought it served more to keep the dispatchers alert during the long stretches of time when nothing was happening than to make them comfortable.

Although she’d persuaded her father to go home and rest, she decided that May was the best protection Vince could have, next to a lawyer. Skye had been waiting there for over an hour, and now she expected the attorney at any minute. In the meantime, she had been instructed by May to answer the phone. So far, that wasn’t a problem. It hadn’t rung.

Chief Boyd had called one of his men at home and ordered him to take care of the mayor’s dog problem. He’d been less successful in finding a substitute for May.

The Scumble River Police, Fire, and Emergency Departments shared a common dispatcher. Four middle-aged women each worked thirty-two hours a week, rotating between the afternoon and midnight shifts. One woman worked straight days during the week. They covered the phones and radios, as well as doing paperwork for the officers. None was willing to climb out of bed at midnight and come down to the station, although all wanted to know what was wrong with May.

 

Despite the uncomfortable chair, Skye was starting to doze off when the buzzer on the police station door sounded and Loretta Steiner marched in. Six feet tall and well muscled, she was even more impressive than Skye remembered. Everything about her was genuine, from her coal-black hair to her dark-brown skin.

Loretta didn’t bother with preliminaries. “Where’s my client?”

Matching the lawyer’s demeanor, Skye opened the door between them and motioned Loretta through. “He’s in the interrogation room at the top of the stairs. My mother and the chief of police are with him.”

“What’s your mother doing there?”

“Seeing that the chief doesn’t question him. She was the best protection I could think of until you got here.” Skye led her toward the stairs.

“Where’s everyone else?” Loretta looked around the empty room.

“This is a small town. There’s not much personnel available at any one time. My mom’s the dispatcher on this shift, and Chief Boyd couldn’t get anyone else to come in, so I’m answering phones. By the way, when you get up there, tell my mom to come down and take over.”

Striding past Skye and up the stairs, Loretta muttered about small towns and not liking to leave Chicago. Halfway up the stairs she turned and called down, “Skye, they ever see a black woman lawyer here before?”

Skye smiled for the first time since her mother’s phone call. “No. There are no blacks in town, and there sure aren’t any women lawyers.”

Loretta whooped. “Well, we’re going to have us a good time tonight.”

Maybe Baby

Six o’clock Tuesday morning came too early for Skye. She had never enjoyed rising at the crack of dawn, and having had less than four hours of sleep did not improve her disposition. Her first thought when the alarm went off was to wonder if she could get away with calling in sick. After a brief consideration, she decided that doing so might be frowned upon after having worked only six days.

At almost the same moment, the idea that maybe she’d better save her personal and emergency days for Vince’s trial popped into her head. She firmly shoved that thought back down into her subconscious, refusing to even contemplate Vince’s being treated as a criminal.

Sitting on the side of her bed with her head in her hands, Skye tried to gather the energy required to take the next step and get into the shower.

Abruptly the hypnotizing music coming over her clock radio was interrupted by the WCCQ weather announcer’s voice. “Well, folks, you’d better sit yourself down in a big tub of ice, because we’re going to break all records for heat and humidity set on this day in history.”

Groaning, she began to search her mind for something to wear. Some of the rooms at school were air-conditioned and some were not. It depended on when that particular addition had been added and how much money had been in the budget at the time.

Following a quick shower and a cup of Earl Grey tea, she dressed in a short-sleeved empire-waist cotton-knit dress. Remembering the problem she’d had keeping up with Lloyd Stark on Thursday, Skye chose to wear white flats instead of the heels that matched the dress. She hoped the Midwest fashion police would forgive her lapse. She was undecided about panty hose, so she stuffed a pair in her white canvas tote, just in case there was some school rule about bare legs. But since her dress’s hemline reached almost to her ankles, she hoped no one would even notice. At the last instant she wove her hair into a French braid to keep it out of her face.

It was tough knowing what to wear on any given day. In the morning she might be sitting on the floor with the kindergartners, and the afternoon could find her at a meeting with the superintendent. Her wardrobe had to be more versatile than a one-man band playing Tchaikovsky’s
1812 Overture.

The drive to Scumble River Junior High took less than five minutes, allowing Skye to be in her makeshift office by seven-thirty. With her first Pupil Personnel Services meeting not until eleven-thirty, she would have plenty of time to prepare a list for the PPS team of students who needed reevaluations or counseling.

She worked steadily until her door burst open and Ursula Nelson, the school secretary, flew in. “Come on. Mr. Stark wants to see you.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” She started to put the folders she was working on back together.

Ursula’s beetle-brown eyes bored into Skye. “Mr. Stark does not like to be kept waiting.”

“I’ll come to the office as soon as I’ve secured these files.”

Ursula turned without another word and rushed out of the room.

Skye inserted the loose papers back into the various records and placed them in the file cabinet. She then conscientiously pushed in the metal bolt and made sure the drawer was locked. Smoothing her hair and dress, she grabbed paper and a pen and set off for the principal’s office.

Lloyd was pacing in front of the doorway when she arrived. Without saying a word, he hurried inside, apparently expecting her to follow. Once they were both past the threshold, he shut the door. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?”

“One of our students, Travis Idell, an eighth grader, spent the summer having parties while both his parents were at work.”

So far Skye was unimpressed. “Yes?”

“They were pretty wild parties.” Lloyd seemed to think Skye should understand without him having to go into detail.

“And this is our problem in what way . . .”

“The other kids were all from this school or the elementary.” Lloyd clarified, “They were mostly eleven and twelve, but some were only ten.”

Skye was starting to have a bad feeling about where this was leading. “What did they do at these parties, get drunk?”

“I wish it were as simple as that. They did disgusting things.”

“Like what?”

Lloyd turned red and muttered, “They played games, sex games.”

She took a few steps and sat. Lloyd must have thought this was a good idea because he sank into the adjoining chair.

“This is terrible, of course, and I’m sure many of those kids will need to see a counselor, but I’m still not clear on how this relates to school.” Skye crossed her legs. “You’re aware that the school is required to provide counseling services only if the emotional problem directly impacts a child’s ability to learn?”

He sighed. “Yes, I know, and so far it hasn’t impaired their learning, if we strictly interpret the law. On the other hand, word has gotten out about this, and since school has started, Travis has been beaten up every day by angry brothers and cousins of the girls involved.”