Murder of a Small-Town Honey (18 page)

She pulled up behind a bright-green “duallie” truck with four rear tires instead of two, giving it the appearance of a toad. A purple bumper sticker read, MY KID CAN BEAT UP YOUR HONOR STUDENT. Skye had liked the original bumper stickers boasting of having a child who was an honor student, but trust Scumble River to come up with a grotesque variation.

Her banking took longer than she planned. Gillian, one of her least favorite relatives, was on duty at the teller’s window, dressed in a hot-pink zip-front suit. The jacket was open to the waist, revealing a black stretch-lace camisole with a low neckline. Skye blinked and looked again. She didn’t remember Gillian’s being so well endowed. Skye would have bet money that Gillian was wearing either silicone or a Wonderbra.

“Well, if it isn’t my long-lost cousin Skye. Ginger said she saw you last night at the grocery store. When are you going to come visit?” Gillian asked.

Gillian was Ginger’s twin sister. Both worked as tellers at Scumble River First National Bank. This often confused the customers, as well as the management. The twins were proof that evolution can go in reverse. Instead of getting smarter and learning from their experiences, both women tended to repeat the same mistakes over and over, with increasingly dire results.

“As soon as I get settled, I thought I’d have you and my other cousins over for lunch.” Skye dodged Gillian’s question while nudging the deposit slip toward her.

“We were sure surprised to hear you were coming home. This is such a
small
town, and we all have such
small
minds. Everyone thought you’d be living in New York or California by now.”

Pasting a smile on her face, Skye shoved the check closer to Gillian. “Life is full of surprises. Maybe next year I’ll be in Alaska. You can never tell.”

“After all the times you said you’d never come back, it must be hard to face people.” Gillian slowly started to tap the keys of the adding machine. “Especially after having gained so much weight.”

Skye managed to keep a pleasant look on her face by thinking,
Yes, it is. Thank you for announcing it to the world. If brains were lard, you wouldn’t have enough to grease a skillet.
She looked pointedly at the line growing behind her. “It’s been great talking to you. We’ll have to have lunch sometime. But I really need to get going now.”

“Sure. We’ve really missed you at the family gatherings. It’s a shame we never got to meet that fiancé of yours before he broke up with you.” Gillian completed the transaction, giving Skye the deposit receipt and counting the cash into her hand.

Skye made her escape and hurried next door to the dry cleaners. For once it was a relief to pay the ransom for her clothing. At least none of her relatives worked there.

It’s Impossible

Skye was stretched out across her bed with an ice cube-filled washcloth covering her eyes. Her only movement was a fingertip idly tracing the stitching on the quilt. It had deep rose-colored diamonds and ivory rings on a cranberry background, and had been on every bed she’d owned since her Grandma Leofanti gave it to her when she turned sixteen.

After the scene at the junior high and the run-in with her cousin at the bank, Skye was emotionally exhausted. Upon reaching home, almost before closing the door, she’d shed her clothes and kicked off her shoes. She’d grabbed a handful of ice from the freezer and a cloth from the bathroom, then flung herself across the bed and tried to forget her encounters with Lloyd and Gillian.

The harder she tried to think of something else, the more the confrontations bothered her.
As a psychologist I’m supposed to know how to deal with people. Instead, I’m alienating them left and right. First Darleen, then Wally, and now Lloyd. Who will be next? Gee, I haven’t spoken to the superintendent of schools yet. Or how about the mayor? Maybe the pope will grant me an audience.

A loud ring from the telephone interrupted her self-castigation. She reached for the handset without removing the washcloth from her eyes. “Hello?”

“Good, you’re finally home. Where have you been? It’s almost five-thirty.”

“Vince, I’ve had a bad day,” Skye said in a don’t-mess-with-me tone.

“I’m just calling to make sure you remember our double date tonight.”

“Oh, my God!”

“You did forget,” Vince said accusingly.

Skye responded petulantly, “Gee, I’m sorry I forgot something so important, but I have been a little busy trying to clear your name.”

There was silence on the line, and Skye wondered briefly if he had hung up.

“Yeah, well, ah, thanks. That’s good, because Wally was by the shop again today,” Vince mumbled.

“You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“No. He said he just wanted to make an appointment for a haircut.”

“Well, you don’t really believe that, do you?” Skye sat up.

“Of course I don’t. I’m not as stupid as everyone in the family thinks.”

“This is a stressful time, Vince. No one thinks you’re stupid. We need to stick together.” She swung her feet to the floor.

“Okay. Let’s forget this stuff and have a good time tonight. What are you wearing?”

“Where are we going exactly?”

“We’ll pick you up at six, which would put us in Joliet around seven. If we eat at the Red Lobster near Louis Joliet Mall, we could catch the nine o’clock movie at the cinema.” Vince’s voice became more animated.

“That sounds good. I guess I’ll wear my black-and-white gingham shorts suit. Will that be all right? Or should I call Abby?” she teased.

Vince responded seriously, “No, that sounds fine. Do you have white flats?”

“Sure, they’re ballet-style flats with bows.”

“Great. What are you going to do with your hair?”

“Oh, I thought I’d wear it. Unless you think I should shave it off. What’s going on here? I thought this was a casual date.” She rubbed her throbbing temples.

“It is. I just want you to look nice. Mike hasn’t seen you in a long time.”

“Is this about my weight?” Skye threw the damp cloth in the direction of the bathroom door.

“No, no, that’s not it at all. Mike’s a little conservative, and sometimes you dress a little wild,” Vince hurried to explain.

“Are you kidding? I dress about as flashy as Marie Os mond. How conservative is this guy?”

Vince ignored her question. “Everything will be fine. We’ll see you at six.”

Skye had a bad feeling about this date, but reassured herself by thinking,
After all, it’s just one date. It’s only a few hours out of my life. Vince and Abby will be with us the whole time. And I do want to ask Mike some questions about Honey.

She rolled off the bed and retrieved the wet cloth from the floor, using it to mop up the puddles from the melted ice cubes. After disposing of it in the bathroom hamper, she slipped into her robe, which had been hanging on a hook on the back of the door.

Skye took a moment to admire it. Running her hands over the powder-blue damask cotton, she snuggled in the French terry lining. It had cost more than she made in a day, but she couldn’t resist it when she’d spotted it at Marshall Field’s.

She had developed a clothes addiction when she returned from her stint in the Peace Corps. After wearing nothing but denim shorts, jeans, and T-shirts for four years, she had gone on a shopping spree that rivaled Imelda Mar-cos’s. She still liked nothing better than to shop until she dropped.

Skye took one look at her rumpled hair and pale skin in the bathroom mirror and switched on her electric curlers. While she was waiting for them to heat up, she washed her face and applied a generous dollop of moisturizer.

Allowing the lotion to soak in, she set her hair before applying her makeup. Skye employed a lot of cosmetics to appear as if she used none. First came the base. Next she used a concealer to cover the circles under her eyes. After a light dusting of translucent powder and some blush she was ready to work on her eyes.

Skye’s eyes had always been her best feature. Their effervescent color and large size drew admiring glances and comments wherever she went. The cream and taupe eye shadows, dark green eyeliner, and mascara were merely embellishments.

It was five minutes to six by the time she finished dressing. She was fastening her watch when the doorbell rang. Slipping on an onyx ring shaped like a cat’s face, she walked to the front door.

Abby, Vince, and Mike were all standing on her porch. Mike was dressed in a conservatively cut navy suit. His light blue shirt matched his eyes, and his hair was cut as short as possible without edging into a crew cut. Belatedly, Skye realized that she should have had something ready to serve them.

Stepping to one side, she gestured them into the foyer. “Please come in. I’m sorry the place isn’t more furnished, but I’m still getting settled.”

Vince saved her. “We really don’t have time to stay. You know Abby, and this is my friend Mike Young.”

Mike held out his hand. “Hi. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I certainly remember you. I always thought Vince’s little sister was going to be a beauty when she grew up.”

Having no answer to that statement, Skye smiled uncomfortably and wondered if he was disappointed with the reality.

 

Mike and Vince did most of the talking on the drive up. They thoroughly discussed the Cubs’ latest season before moving on to the best way to work out at the gym. Abby was able to contribute an occasional comment on both subjects, but it sounded to Skye as if they were speaking Swahili.

Red Lobster was mobbed when they arrived. The lobby was full, and people were standing outside on the front walk, making it difficult to negotiate passage through the throng. Vince offered to fight his way to the front to find out how long a wait there would be.

The loudspeaker squawked, “Martin, party of four.”

A group rose from one of the two benches outside the door. Skye was not able to see how it was accomplished, but miraculously she found herself seated between Mike and Abby.

Mike leaned back, stretching out his long legs, seemingly unaware of the dirty looks from the people standing in front of him. “Ah, this is better. You comfortable, girls?”

At the word
girls
Skye shot Abby a look. A slight shrug of Abby’s shoulders stopped Skye from pursuing the matter.

“We’re fine, Mike. Thanks for snagging the bench. I’ve been on my feet all day.” Abby slipped off a sandal and rubbed her instep.

“Oh, anything special happen at school or just the usual disasters?” Skye turned slightly to look at Abby.

Before Abby could answer, Vince pushed his way back out the door and plopped himself down on the bench next to her. “It’s a madhouse in there. The hostess said it would be about forty-five minutes. You guys want to stay or try somewhere else?”

“It’s Friday night. Everywhere will be crowded. Let’s just stay here.” Skye looked at the others for agreement.

Mike reached across the women and lightly punched Vince in the arm. “I told you we should have gone someplace where they take reservations.”

Vince muttered under his breath, “You did not.”

Skye was surprised to hear Vince answer back. He usually avoided confrontation. The silence became uncomfortable as the men silently stared at each other.

It occurred to Skye that this might be the time to ask about Honey and Mike’s past relationship. She didn’t want the conversation to end like the one with Lloyd had earlier, so she chose her words carefully. “Mike, you and Vince go way back, huh?”

“Yep, we were in kindergarten together.” Mike sat back and extended his arm across the back of the bench.

Vince added, “Yeah, he was the one who borrowed the class hamster, and I was the one who got into trouble for it.”

Wow, two confrontations in a row. This isn’t like the Vince I know. Maybe he changed while I was gone.
Skye looked at her brother thoughtfully

“Vince, why bring up ancient history?” Mike replied. “Remember Matthew, chapter six, verse twelve: ‘Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.’”

Skye frowned. “I thought that was from the Lord’s Prayer.”

“You Catholics do not know your Bible.”

Not wanting to get sidetracked from her original line of questioning, Skye asked, “Were you two friends throughout school?”

“Yeah, I guess. More so in high school, when we were both on the basketball team,” Vince answered.

“That must have been tough. If it was anything like when I was in school, all the popular girls went out with the basketball team. I remember my junior year two of our stars fought the whole season over one girl. They never talked except on the court.”

Mike laughed. “We never seemed to have the same taste in girls. Vince always liked the ice queens and I preferred the sex kittens.”

“I recall one girl you both liked,” Abby said softly.

Skye could have kissed her. This was exactly where she wanted the conversation to go. Disregarding the dirty looks that both Vince and Mike shot at Abby, Skye asked, “Would that have been Honey Adair? I understand almost every male in Scumble River was attracted to her.”

“She and I were through by the time Vince started dating her,” Mike said. “In fact, I think it was my idea that he ask her out.”

Once again Vince muttered to himself, “It was not.”

“It seems that no one went with her for very long,” Skye said. “I was told she was always after greener pastures. Why did you break up with her, Mike?” Skye looked him in the eye.

He got up from the bench, stepped over to the door, and peered inside. “I wonder if we’re getting close to a table? Maybe I should check.”

Smiling, she patted the vacant spot next to her. “Oh, that’s not necessary. The time goes fast when you’re having a nice conversation.”

Reluctantly, Mike sat back down.

“Mike, you were going to tell us about your breakup with Honey,” Skye reminded him after a few moments of silence.