Murder of a Bookstore Babe

“Last Saturday, at our grand opening, you mentioned you had read If I Have a Wicked Stepmother, Where’s My Prince?, which is our selection.”

“True,” Skye admitted. “But . . .”

“You’d be perfect.” Risé’s tone was cajoling.

“I don’t know.” Skye tried to avoid looking into the woman’s desperate eyes.

“Maybe your friend, the school librarian, would co-lead with you,” Risé coaxed. “She seemed really excited that Scumble River finally had a bookstore.”

“Okay,” Skye gave in. “But you need to find someone else for next month. I already have two jobs, not to mention a fiancé and my family to deal with, so I can’t take this on permanently.”

“That’s all I ask. Next month Xenia can take over. We couldn’t afford to pay someone on a permanent basis, but”—Risé pulled a checkbook from her open purse—“name your fee.”

“A white chocolate mocha latte and some of Orlando’s amazing shortbread.” Skye smiled. “I know Trixie will work for treats, too.”

“We’ll supply you both for a year.” Risé got up. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“How’s Orlando doing?” Skye wondered whether his falling off the wagon had started him on a downward spiral.

“He’s working on remaining sober.” Risé’s face was hard to read. “He says he wants to win back my trust, but we’ll see.” She opened the door. “We’re having one of his favorite authors for a book signing on Saturday, and that’s helping him stay positive. I just hope we get a decent turnout.”

“A book signing?” Skye clapped her hands. “How exciting. I’ll definitely be there.”

“Good.” Risé smiled wryly. “Bring a lot of your friends.”

Skye accompanied Risé to the school’s front door. As she watched her walk into the parking lot, she thought how similar to Risé Kayla had looked from the back. Which one had really been the intended victim? The young girl whom no one had any apparent reason to kill, or the woman with a lot of enemies?

CHAPTER 15

Pride and Prejudice

By five o’clock, Skye had secured Trixie as a coleader for the book club, had attended two Pupil Personnel Services meetings, and was eager to get off work to go talk to Wally. Her mind had raced the entire day with all the information she’d gathered, and the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that the murderer had meant to kill Risé.

Unfortunately, tonight was the night of Wally’s monthly dinner meeting with all the police chiefs in Stanley County. Along with the sheriff, they got together at Harry’s restaurant to share intel. And since Skye had worked so late, she had only a half hour to discuss the case with him before he needed to leave for Laurel. But first she had to find him.

As she hurried toward the parking lot, Skye dug her cell phone from the bottom of her tote, powered it on, and dialed his private line at the police station. After four rings, it went to voice mail and she disconnected. Her next try was his cell, which also went to voice mail, and then his home phone, where the answering machine picked up.

Sheesh! Had he left for the county seat early? Unlocking her car, Skye blew out an exasperated sigh. She had no choice. Although she’d been avoiding her mother all day, she’d have to phone the PD’s nonemergency line, even if May was the dispatcher on duty that night.

Skye held her breath as the call was answered, “Scumble River Police, Fire, and Emergency.”

Hot damn! She had lucked out. “Zelda?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“It’s Skye.” She threw her tote bag onto the passenger seat, slid behind the wheel, and put the key in the ignition. “Is the chief around?”

“Sorry. You just missed him.” Zelda Martinez’s low, sultry voice thrummed through the line, and Skye wondered briefly what effect Scumble River’s only female officer was having on the rest of the force.

“Did he head over to Laurel already?” Skye buckled her seat belt and turned the ignition key.

“Hold on a second and I’ll check.” There was a short pause; then Zelda said, “According to the board, he’s going home first.”

“Okay.” Skye backed the Bel Air out of its parking spot and headed toward Wally’s house. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later Skye turned into the driveway of the four-room bungalow that Wally owned. It was hard to believe that the son of a Texas oil tycoon lived so modestly, but she certainly understood why he didn’t want anyone else in Scumble River to know about his affluent background. She’d been relieved Monday night when he’d told her that he didn’t have a trust fund or expect to be his father’s heir, but others might not feel the same way.

Skye knocked, then let herself in the back door. Hearing water running, she was glad she and Wally had exchanged keys when they got engaged. Otherwise, she’d be stuck on his doorstep until he got out of the shower.