Murder Of A Snake In The Grass (23 page)

Skye sobered up fast. Wally was right. It was no joking matter. They rode in silence to Simon’s. No one answered the door at either the house or the funeral home, so they proceeded to Skye’s cottage.

Luc’s rented Jag was parked in the drive way, and he was sitting on the front step. He jumped up as Skye and Wally got out of the squad car. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting forever.”

Wally stepped between them, saying, “We’ll explain everything later. Right now we need to go to the station and have a little talk.”

“Why? About what?” Luc turned to Skye. “What’s all this about?”

“Come on, Mr. Amant. We’ll explain everything at the station. I’m sure you can clear it all up, but right now I need you to come with me.” Wally edged him closer to the police car.

“I know my rights. I’m an attorney. I don’t have to go with you.”

“True, but why wouldn’t you want to cooperate with me? Unless you have something to hide.”

“Fine.”

To Skye’s surprise, Luc climbed into the backseat of the squad car without protest. She joined Wally in the front seat.
The drive to the police station passed in silence. Wally pushed a button, and one of the doors to the attached garage slid up. He pulled the vehicle inside.

They filed through the station, past May, who silently buzzed open the inner door.

Wally deposited Luc in the coffee/interrogation room, and said to Skye, “I don’t suppose you’d agree to wait outside?”

Before she could answer, Luc announced, “I don’t want her here.”

Skye retraced her steps, detouring into the dispatcher’s area.

May pounced as soon as Skye entered. “What’s happening? Has Wally arrested Luc?”

Skye plopped into a chair and filled her mother in on the evening’s activities. When she finished, she said, “What do you think? Why doesn’t Luc want me in there with him? Obviously he has secrets he doesn’t want me to know about, right?”

“Definitely. You aren’t really surprised, are you? You knew he was a snake.”

Skye sagged in her seat. “I hoped he’d changed.”

“Snakes may shed their skin, but they’re still vipers underneath.”

Skye’s stomach growled. May’s motherly antenna twitched. “Have you had supper?”

“No, it’s been over nine hours since my last meal. I’m starving.”

“You better go get something before you faint.”

“How about them?” Skye jerked her head in the direction of the coffee room.

“I’ll tell them where you are.”

“Okay, but I’d better call Simon and fill him in before I go.”

“Help yourself.” May indicated the phone. “I’ll go use the potty while you call.”

Simon still wasn’t home, so she left a message. She vaguely remembered some meeting he had mentioned attending. Was it the Lions Club he had recently joined? No, it was the Grand Union of the Mighty Bull. Skye had been surprised at his becoming a member of the GUMBs, but Simon had said it was a good way to meet people their own age in town.

Skye had just picked up her purse and was headed for the door when Wally’s voice stopped her. “Amant wants to see you.”

“Oh, why?”

“Ask him.”

Skye followed the chief.

Luc sat looking down at the table. He raised his head when Skye entered the room and said, “Do you know a good criminal attorney?”

“Yes, Loretta Steiner.”

“Call her.”

T
he steady, reassuring roar of Skye’s hair dryer stopped in mid whoosh, accompanied by a puff of smoke and a shower of sparks that convinced her the dryer was beyond resuscitation. Before she could decide what to do, the phone began shrilling, and the cat started yowling. Tuesday was already shaping into a wonderful day. She knew she shouldn’t have skipped her morning swim. The exercise gods were punishing her.

The ringing stopped abruptly. Her answering machine must have picked up. She was ninety-nine percent sure the caller was either Ursula Nelson or May. There had been half a dozen messages on her tape from Grady’s aunt and an equal number from Skye’s mother when Skye got home yesterday evening. It had been too late to return the calls. Ursula would have to wait until Skye got to school. May would have to wait until Skye’s lunch period.

Bingo’s frantic caterwauls continued. He wanted breakfast. But he too would have to wait his turn. Skye had a true emergency on her hands. What was she going to do about her hair?

She pulled the plug and threw the broken handheld dryer in the trash. Did she have time to drive over to her brother’s house, get a key to his salon, and use the equipment there? No. Her first appointment was at seven-thirty with Grady
Nelson’s parents. It was not a meeting to which she could be late.

She stared at the wet mass of thick, chestnut hair. On its own it would take a couple of hours to dry all the way through, and would end up looking like a Brillo pad. The only thing she could do was put it into a French braid. A time-consuming style, but it allowed her mind to think about other things as she worked.

Her first concern was her dryer. Was there anywhere in town where she could get a new one? Maybe the drug store or the hardware store carried dryers. She’d have to make a couple of calls sometime during the day and go buy one after school. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to drive all the way to the Wal-Mart in Laurel.

Bingo’s complaints grew louder, interrupting her deliberations. Somewhere in the feline’s ancestry there had to be a Siamese grandfather or grandmother. His high-pitched wail felt like a spike of glass being pounded into her eardrum. She gave in, stopped braiding, and went to feed him.

While she was in the kitchen, her gaze was drawn to the blinking light on the answering machine. Maybe that earlier call had been Loretta. Her finger hovered above the button. Did she have time to deal with it?

It had been nearly midnight last night by the time Skye reached Loretta Steiner. Loretta was Skye’s sorority sister and one of the best criminal attorneys in Illinois. A couple of years ago, Loretta had defended Skye’s brother against a murder charge. Skye had provided the lawyer with two other Scumble River clients since then. Pretty soon she would start asking Loretta for a commission.

This time Loretta hadn’t been able to come down immediately. She’d been at a party and didn’t want to drive the long distance with alcohol in her system. She was due to arrive at the police station between nine and ten, depending on the I-55 traffic and construction conditions.

Luc had elected to wait for the attorney before giving a
statement. He had thus spent the night in the Scumble River jail. So much for his prior proud claim that no St. Amant had ever been behind bars.

No, Skye decided, she had better not listen to the messages. She needed to focus all her attention on the Nelson meeting. There would be time to talk to Loretta or Luc afterward.

Skye finished braiding her hair, then stood before her closet and contemplated her wardrobe. What was the appropriate outfit in which to inform parents that they had raised the spawn of Satan? Something cool. If Grady was a son of the devil, maybe his folks were the parents from hell. In that case, things could get mighty hot.

She fingered a taupe tank dress with a matching cropped jacket. It was a blend of that new material, Tencel, and cotton and was supposed to be lightweight and wrinkle-resistant. Teamed with nude hose and bone pumps, she’d be set for anything short of a kindergarten-type, sit-on-the-floor crisis.

It was seven-fifteen when she arrived at the high school. She signed in at the front counter and hurried to her office, where she gathered Grady’s file and the paperwork that the special ed co-op had sent for her to fill out.

The Scumble River School District belonged to the Stanley County Special Education Cooperative, an entity that at one time had provided school districts with actual services. Now it was more or less a watchdog to deal with the bureaucratic red tape of special education funding.

Illinois state law had recently required changes in many of the special education forms and procedures. For years this type of gathering had been called a multidisciplinary conference, but now it had become an eligibility meeting. Skye had been allowed to go to one all-day class to learn the new process, but she still felt on shaky ground.

School district policy held that the special education coordinator was to chair meetings when the results of a case
study were shared with parents. But the coordinator was employed by the co-op and covered six or seven schools, so more often than not, Skye was the one left to moderate, do all the paperwork, and explain the results of her findings.

Skye headed back to the main office. Her first duty was to secure a space large enough to hold everyone. For that she needed the secretary’s help. “Good morning, Opal.”

“Morning.” Opal didn’t look up from her keyboard.

“I need a room for the Nelson eligibility meeting.”

“Oh my, that poor family. The conference room is free.”

“Anything bigger? There are going to be eight to ten people,” Skye persisted.

“Well, you could use the stage, but they’re having indoor PE today so it will be really noisy.”

“Anything else?”

Opal bit her lip. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t think of anything else.”

Skye backed off. She felt sorry for the mousy secretary, who always seemed close to tears. “The conference room, then. Please let people know when they come in. I’m heading there now.”

The conference room was in the center of the school, next to the teachers’ lounge. Skye could smell coffee as she walked in. She would love a cup, but it seemed rude to drink in front of the parents and not be able to offer them any. The staff paid for their own coffee, and Skye didn’t feel she could give it away to visitors. Someday she would remember to bring in a pot of her own and some disposable cups.

In the conference room was a rectangular table that could comfortably hold six, eight in a squeeze. Often they managed to cram in twice that number. Skye chose a chair at the narrow end of the table closest to the wall, so no one would have to climb over her. She knew she would be there for the duration.

After putting an extra pen in the center of the table—someone inevitably didn’t bring one—and a box of tissues,
she started filling in the forms. The co-op secretary had typed in the biographical information before sending them to the school, but Skye added the date, when the re-eval was due, and other bits of information. Most data could only be filled in while the meeting was in session.

First to arrive was Abby Fleming, school nurse. She and Skye had a good relationship, despite a rocky beginning and Abby’s status as Skye’s brother’s ex-girlfriend.

Abby pulled up a chair near the door. “Okay if I leave as soon as I give my report? I need to get over to the junior high and start scoliosis screenings.”

“Sure, as long as there are no health issues.”

Two teachers came in next. According to the law, a special education and a regular education teacher had to be present. They immediately began complaining about being pulled out of their classes.

Skye sympathized but had to follow the rules. Otherwise, when the special ed files were monitored, the district would be in trouble.

The speech pathologist, Belle Whitney, edged in the door, nodded to Skye, and sat beside Abby.

Opal stuck her head in the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Grady are here, and so is the lady from the alternative school. Should I send them over?”

“Yes, please. And tell Homer everyone has arrived, and we’re ready to start.”

The secretary nodded.

A few minutes went by, and then five people filed into the little room. Ursula Nelson had decided to accompany her brother and his wife. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson looked a little like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Both were oval shaped and wore brown suits. In comparison Ursula’s long torso and beady eyes made her appear like a crow protecting its eggs.

As soon as they all found chairs, Skye began the introductions. “Hi, my name is Skye Denison. I’m the school
psychologist for Scumble River High School, and I’ll also be taking the meeting notes.”

The alternative school representative, the teachers, Abby, Belle, and Homer spoke their names and positions on staff. Ursula took over after that. “I’m Grady’s aunt, Ursula Nelson. This is his father and mother, Stuart and Beatrice Nelson.”

Skye nodded toward that end of the table and said, “We’re here today for two reasons. One is to share the results of the case study evaluation, and the other is to discuss what we can do to make Grady a more successful student. Any questions?”

Ursula asked, “When are we going to talk about this nonsense from yesterday? Grady did not bother that girl. She made the whole story up because he broke up with her.”

Skye looked to Homer, but he was busy studying the hair poking through the button openings on his shirt. “We will touch briefly on that issue near the end of the meeting,” Skye said. “It would be premature to talk about it now. Abby, would you start with your summary?”

Ursula scowled but didn’t pursue that line of questioning, and Abby started talking. In brief, Grady was a healthy fifteen-year-old who could see and hear. All children being looked at for special education services had to have recent vision and hearing screenings. Abby concluded her summary with “Grady’s pediatrician diagnosed him with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder when he was six. Parents declined ADHD medication.” As soon as she was finished, Abby slipped out the door with a murmured excuse.