Murder Of A Snake In The Grass (16 page)

“True. A murder will do that.” Skye put her arms around his neck and hugged. “I’ve got to go home to change for church. I could come back and clean cabins afterwards.”

Charlie patted her on the head. “Thanks, honey, but I got it covered for now.”

“Okay, but you call me if you need help later.” She knew that nearly everyone currently staying at the motor court would be checking out later today. “Are you coming to Mom and Dad’s for dinner?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door for her. “You bringing that ass—?”

Skye quickly cut him off. “Yes, Luc will be there.”

“You going to marry that son of a bee?”

“No, he’ll probably be leaving tonight or tomorrow.”

Charlie snorted. “It’s about time.”

Attending church with both Simon and Luc had been a bad idea. Between the burning stares and the acid whispers, the experience had been less than uplifting. But Skye had
fulfilled her promise and introduced Luc to Father Burns. Strangely, neither man had had much to say to the other.

Now the junior high school secretary, Ursula Nelson, had Skye trapped between the holy water font and the poor box. “Grady did not murder that foreigner,” she insisted. “He may be a little wild, but he’s no killer.”

“Well, if the police didn’t put him in jail, they must agree.” Skye looked around for help. Simon was deep in conversation with Father Burns, and Luc stood with his back toward her, seemingly engrossed in the pamphlet he appeared to be reading.

“They said they were letting him go, but they’d be keeping an eye on him.” Ursula’s beetle-brown eyes bore into Skye. “You’ve got to find out who really killed that man.”

Guilt settled over Skye like a sackcloth gown. What if Grady really was innocent? She had been the one to point the finger of blame at him. “I’m sure the police will find out the truth.”

“The police investigation wasn’t good enough when it was
your
brother they were accusing of murder.”

“That was different.” Skye tried to edge toward the priest and Simon.

Ursula’s clawlike fingers grabbed her wrist, thwarting her escape. “No, it wasn’t. You did what you had to do to free your brother. I’ll do whatever I have to do to see this murder isn’t pinned on Grady. He’s like a son to me. My sister-in-law and brother are both useless.”

“I understand how you feel, but there really isn’t anything I can do.”

“All I’m asking is for you to snoop around some. Heaven knows you do that all the time anyway. Besides, you owe Grady that much.”

Skye gulped. Did Ursula know that she had told Wally about the resemblance between Grady’s test and the mark on the bandstand?

Ursula continued. “After all, aren’t you school psychologists suppose to be the child’s advocate?”

Skye blew out a breath of relief; Ursula hadn’t found out that she had been the whistle blower. But the older woman had a point. The discovery of that handkerchief this morning with the initials SI on it put things in a whole new light. And Skye did feel she owed Grady something. She freed herself from the older woman’s grasp. “I’ll do what I can.”

Ursula nodded. “Let me know if you need any help. I know where a lot of bodies are buried in this town. And if I find out who pointed the finger at Grady, I’ll bury one myself.”

Since Luc had won the coin toss that morning, Simon and Skye were riding with him in his rented Jaguar. The look on Simon’s face as he climbed into the back seat sent Skye’s heart pounding. She had to finish things up with Luc soon, or she would lose any chance with Simon.

The trio drove in silence for the few minutes it took them to arrive at Simon’s house. As he killed the motor, Luc said, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll go grab the papers, and we can take them to your place to go over.”

Skye shot a glance at Simon, who said in a steely tone, “Fine, I’ll pick you up to go to your folks’ house at two forty-five.”

Luc, halfway down the sidewalk, turned back. “No need, my good man, we’ll just meet you over there.”

Two pairs of male eyes turned toward Skye. “Actually,” she said slowly, searching for the correct response, “after we finish with the papers, I need to run some errands by myself, so I’ll meet you both at my folks at three sharp.”

Neither man seemed happy with her pronouncement, but they didn’t argue. Considering how things were going, she was willing to put that in the win column.

Luc continued into the house, and Simon stood leaning on the Jaguar looking down at Skye. She searched her mind
for a casual topic of conversation, but the thought of what Ursula had said tore at her insides. Simon seemed to understand and remained silent.

A door slammed, and Luc hurried toward them. “They’re gone! The papers are gone. What did you do with them, Reid?”

Simon moved around the car in a flash and stood in front of Luc. “What did I do with what?”

Luc seemed unaware of Simon’s cold anger and pushed a finger into his chest. “The foundation papers are missing. I want them back, now.”

“Don’t.” Simon gripped the finger poking into him, bent it backward, and then released it. “And just for the record, I don’t have your papers. In fact, I doubt they even exist.”

Luc’s face turned crimson, and he grabbed Simon by the lapels of his suit coat. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Yes.” Simon twisted out of his grasp. “After what you did to Skye in the past, liar is one of the nicer things I’d call you.”

Skye quickly slipped between the two men. “Stop it! Luc, I’m sure your lawyer can fax you another set of papers. Simon, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’ll handle this myself. Okay?”

Both men’s breathing was ragged, but they nodded.

Luc turned. “I’ll go call him now. Where can I have them faxed to?”

Simon’s voice held an undertone of cold contempt. “You can use the machine in my office at the funeral home. The number is on it.”

After Luc left, Skye put her hand on Simon’s sleeve and said, “Thanks.”

He shook himself, as if he were coming in out of the rain. “You’re welcome. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“You’re the best.”

“Remember that.” Simon kissed her on the cheek as he steered her toward his Lexus.

*  *  *

Skye was torn between relief and impatience. On the one hand, she had wanted to sit down with Luc and go over the papers for the foundation so she could finish things up with him. On the other hand, now she could immediately talk to Wally regarding her doubts about Grady’s guilt.

After calling the police department and learning that Wally was at the park keeping an eye on the bicentennial activities, she changed from the dress she had worn to church into shorts and hopped into her car. As she parked the Bel Air at Charlie’s, Skye was beginning to feel like a yo-yo driving back and forth, or maybe it was more like déjà vu.

Once again the park was teeming with people. After crossing the pedestrian bridge, she stopped briefly to watch two rows of men facing each other, and throwing chunks of coal between them. With each toss the participants acquired more and more streaks of soot, until the finalists resembled chimney sweeps at the end of their shifts.

When it became evident that there was no sign of Wally at this event, Skye moved on. The next knot of people surrounded several tables.

As she wiggled through the crowd, keeping a lookout for the chief, Skye didn’t notice what was going on until a woman poked her in the ribs with an elbow and said, “I think the one dressed as the black cat should win.”

Skye focused on the tabletops. Chunks of coal had been costumed to look like various people, animals, and objects. There were gravestones, birds, a huge pearl in a clamshell, and even an infant in a cradle.

While the judges made their decision as to the best dressed piece of coal, Skye slipped away and followed the throngs of people until she ended up in front of the bandstand. This afternoon it was being used as a stage for the Living History Pageant, which started with the discovery of Scumble River and ended in the present.

The play was scheduled to start at noon, and at quarter to
twelve, people had already staked out their spots to watch. Skye scrutinized faces but didn’t see Wally. A noise in back of the bandstand caught her attention, and she walked around the right side. The chief was talking to a man in a tan uniform. When they finished, and the deputy walked away, she took his place facing Wally. “Hi.”

He smiled down at her. “Hi. Come to watch some living history?”

“No, I heard about your talk with Grady Nelson and wondered what the outcome was.”

“Nothing. The kid stonewalled like a pro. Wouldn’t say a word.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how he was with me. Very guarded. He’d only answer test questions, nothing spontaneous at all.”

“He’s a tough one. With his attitude, it’s hard to believe he’s not quite sixteen yet.”

“What are you going to do now?”

Wally took his hat off and smoothed back his hair. “I’m not giving up. He looks to be our prime suspect. At least with the drawing and Justin’s testimony, we can place him at the scene, which is more than we can do with anyone else.”

Skye felt her stomach tighten. They were going after this boy because of what she had told Wally. But he had the type of personality that might make him do something just
because
the police were looking at him. “Doesn’t the handkerchief we found this morning point to someone else?” she asked. “Someone with the initials SI?”

“We’re checking into it.”

“Are you planning to lock up Grady?”

“No, just making sure he’s watched most of the time. We can’t do twenty-four hours with our budget, but we can stick with him a lot.”

“Oh.” She could feel guilt creeping up her throat.

“You don’t look happy. You did the right thing.”

“I hope so.”

Wally took her hand and started to walk back toward the front. “Let’s watch the program.”

In the few minutes Skye had been talking to Wally, the crowd had swelled, but people moved aside for them, and they were able to edge their way toward the front of the bandstand. A voice blared from portable loudspeakers, announcing the first scene: Pierre Scumble’s earliest sight of what would become the town of Scumble River.

The teenage boy playing Pierre was sweating and clearly uncomfortable on stage, but he stumbled through his lines and seemed to gather confidence from the applause.

After some shifting of scenery, indicating the passing years, the main street of Scumble River emerged with houses and stores and businesses. Pierre reappeared, this time accompanied by two other teenagers in the roles of Dewey Clapp and Dolly Ann Emerick. Dewey owned the general store, and the pharmacy and managed the sawmill, while Dolly ran the saloon and the hotel.

History sped up from there, touching briefly on Illinois becoming a state, Scumble River’s role during the Civil War as a stop on the Underground Railroad, its contribution to the country during World War I, World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War, and ending with the bicentennial celebration.

During the final curtain, Skye whispered to Wally, “I didn’t know that Fayanne Emerick and Eldon Clapp were descendants of the original settlers. I feel like an outsider. My family’s only been here a hundred years or so.”

Wally took her arm. The crowd had begun to move, and they were caught in the motion. “Hey, think of me. I’m the first Boyd to live in Scumble River.”

“That may be a good thing,” Skye teased.

As they neared the pedestrian bridge, Skye checked the time. It was nearly one-thirty, and she had one other errand
to run before meeting Simon and Luc for dinner at her parents’. “I need to get going. Are you sticking around here?”

“Just until the mob thins out. Most people will be leaving town soon. I’ll help with traffic later this afternoon.” Wally walked with her toward her car.

“You don’t think they’ll stick around for the dance?”

“No, that’ll be mostly locals. People like to get home early on a Sunday night since tomorrow is a work day.”

“Will that be a problem? Everyone leaving with a murder investigation still open?”

“It’s not good, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. I’ve gotten addresses for anyone who was reasonably near the bandstand when the murder took place, but that’s about it.”

Skye opened the Bel Air’s door and eased inside. It wasn’t as hot today, but the sun was beating down, making the leather seats uncomfortably warm. “This has been the longest weekend ever. I’m ready to get back to school and my routine.”

“What’s happening with your ex-fiancé?”

“I’m hoping he’ll be leaving tomorrow.” Skye started the motor.

“At least we’ve got his address and phone number.”

Skye patted Wally’s arm, then put the car in gear. “See you at the dance?”

He nodded and waved as she pulled away.

G
uilt was gnawing at Skye. She still wasn’t sure she should have told the police about Grady Nelson’s test results, and her recent conversation with Wally hadn’t been at all reassuring. Thinking it over, she decided to make good on her promise to Ursula to see if she could find out anything more about the murder.