Murder of a Bookstore Babe

“Understood.” Skye picked up the pen and paper she had taken from a drawer. “Can you be any more exact about the time you arrived at the store?”

“Let me think.” Xenia dipped a finger in the cream cheese frosting and licked it clean. “The clock on the bank sign read eleven eleven when I drove past. I remember thinking my grandma used to say that seeing a number like that was good luck and telling me to make a wish.”

“Good.” Skye made a note. “I take it you drove there in your Beetle?” When Xenia nodded, she went on. “Did you pass anyone on your way, either walking or driving?”

“Not after I went through the stoplight at Basin and Maryland.” Xenia forked a bite of cake into her mouth, then mumbled, “That end of the street was deserted.”

“Were there any vehicles parked along there that you recognized?”

“There were all those used cars from the Better Than New dealership.”

“Hmm.” Skye chewed the end of her pen. A memory was tickling at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite scratch the itch yet.

“I stopped my VW in front of the store, saw the lights were off, and drove away.”

“You didn’t get out and try the door?”

“No.” Xenia’s voice was bitter. “For once I was worried about getting in trouble, and I didn’t want to leave my car double-parked.”

“Was there a police cruiser anywhere in sight?” Skye was happy the girl was becoming more law-abiding but curious as to why.

“No. But those security cameras Risé installed Saturday morning were aimed right at me.”

Eureka! Skye shot out of her chair. The security cameras. That was what she had been trying to remember. Had Wally noticed them? It wasn’t as if it was common for Scumble River businesses to have them.

“Chief Boyd is going to want to talk to you about all this. I’d be happy to come with you to the police station.”

“That sucks!” Xenia jumped up and headed for the door.

Skye blocked her exit and said with a straight face, “Gravity sucks, too, but we’d be in trouble without it.”

CHAPTER 11

The Sun Also Rises

Grateful to be finally alone, Skye slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, and crawled into bed. Wally had still been at the station when she’d called to share Xenia’s information, and he’d asked her to accompany the girl to the PD.

While Skye and Xenia were driving into town, Wally had contacted Risé and Orlando and asked about the security cameras. Risé told him that they were hooked up to a recording device in the store’s back room. She claimed that she had forgotten about them in all the shock and confusion.

While Wally was interviewing Xenia, he sent an officer to retrieve the security recordings. Once Wally had finished questioning Xenia, he and Skye viewed the footage. Someone had double-parked outside the store at eight thirty Saturday night. Unfortunately, the image was fuzzy, and the vehicle was an unrecognizable dark blur. Wally had had to send the recording to the crime lab in Laurel to see whether the techs there could enhance the image.

By the time all the loose ends had been tied up and Wally had driven Skye home, it was past midnight and she was exhausted. Not only had it been a long, stressful day, but it was way past her usual ten o’clock bedtime.

So why wasn’t she in dreamland? Skye lay on her side, watching the red digital numbers of her clock radio change as the minutes went by. Maybe she should have gone home with Wally. At least missing sleep while in his bed had other benefits. But he had been even more worn-out than she was, and since she had an early meeting at school the next day, she hadn’t wanted to disturb him at five a.m. when she got up.

Sighing, she flipped over onto her back, laced her fingers behind her head, and stared at the ceiling. The problem with this case was that they weren’t sure what the intended crime had been. Was it a burglary gone bad, or had the criminal been intent on murder? And if that was the case, who was the intended victim? Charlie seemed certain that if anyone had given someone a motive for murder, it had been Risé.

Monday, as Skye pulled into the high school parking lot, a red Hummer roared past her and squealed to a stop in the no-parking zone at the front entrance. The driver hopped out of the vehicle and hurried to the door, where he repeatedly jabbed the intercom button. All schools were kept tightly locked down since 9/11. Too bad the only people inconvenienced were the staff and the parents, as evidenced by the unending spate of school violence. The bad guys got inside no matter what precautions were taken.

The Hummer driver looked somewhat familiar. Who would be there more than an hour before classes started? Oh, yeah. Now she remembered. He was the magazine sales rep. Scumble River High had decided to sell magazines for its annual December fund-raiser. She wondered how many subscriptions the kids would talk her into buying.