Murder of a Bookstore Babe

Skye fed the demanding cat, then made herself a toasted cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. She quickly devoured her meal, while sorting the mail into bills she could pay this month and those that would have to return to the end of the line.

As she climbed the stairs to change clothes, Bingo did figure eights between her legs. She enjoyed the feel of his soft fur against her ankles, but when she nearly tripped, she ordered him to stop.

He ignored her, and she finally scooped him up and carried him with her into the bedroom, muttering to him, “How is it that you can hear me open a can of Fancy Feast from anywhere in the house, but can’t hear a simple command a few feet from your ears?”

After depositing the purring feline on her bed, Skye stood in front of her closet and pondered a question she never thought she’d ask herself as an adult. What does one wear to a party at a skating rink?

Wally had explained that the owner was an old friend of his, and he wanted to show his support. Milton Leigh had owned the rink from 1988 until 1999 but sold the business five years ago. Recently, he had repurchased it and restored the interior rink to its former glory. Milton was hoping the enterprise would be profitable enough to allow him to refurbish the exterior next. His goal was to do so within a year.

Considering all the family get-togethers Wally had attended for Skye, and all he’d need to be present at in the future, she was happy to accompany him tonight. Still, that didn’t solve her clothing dilemma.

As she stared at the garments arranged in neat rows by category, color, and season, she dialed Vince’s cell. Skye had been trying to reach him since yesterday, but all she ever got at any of his numbers was his voice mail, and so far despite the urgency of the messages she’d left, he hadn’t called back. She wanted to let him know about May’s knowledge of his engagement ring purchase herself, rather than trying to explain to a machine.

Once again her call went directly to his voice mail. Even though she knew Vince didn’t answer his phone when he was working on someone’s hair, and he was notoriously bad about responding to messages, this was getting ridiculous. Was he avoiding her? But why? Or was something wrong? Should she be worried?

Maybe Vince was in Chicago with Loretta, and he wasn’t getting a signal. For some strange reason, it seemed that cell phones that worked perfectly fine in Scumble River didn’t work at all in the city, and vice versa. Skye actually knew a few people who had two cell phones, one for around home and one for outside of town.

With that in mind, Skye decided to wait until tomorrow to worry about Vince. Now all she had to figure out was what to wear. She pushed the hangers back and forth, waiting for inspiration. The first blouse she grabbed was dirty. Why hadn’t she put it in the hamper? Oh, yeah. It was marked hand wash and air dry, which meant she’d probably get around to laundering it about the same time her first grandchild was born.

As she shoved back the soiled shirt, her new black tunic sweater slipped to the floor. Aha! That had to be a sign. She slipped it over her head, then after pulling on black jeans and ankle boots, she looked in the mirror. Not bad, but the outfit needed something. She tried a couple of necklaces, then a scarf, but nothing was exactly right.

Finally she remembered the belt. It would be ideal. She’d been cleaning out one of the many trunks in the attic when she found it. At first she was sure it would never fit. When she held it up, it definitely looked too small to go around her. Skye loved vintage clothing, but most items were not made for a woman with curves.

However, when she tried it on, the silver links that resembled scales encircled her waist with room to spare. And as she slid the tab into the snakehead to fasten it, the belt felt as if it had been made for her. The emerald eyes looked up at her, and she could have sworn the reptile was smiling.

After flatironing her curls into submission, applying a fresh coat of mascara, and putting on a swipe of peach lip gloss, Skye checked the time. It was six eighteen. She had to hustle if she wanted to talk to Flip and be on time to meet Wally at the skating rink.

Skye was a little apprehensive about appearing unexpectedly at her cousin Ginger’s door. They didn’t get along all that well, and she wasn’t sure of her welcome.

But as soon as she explained she was there to offer Flip a job, Ginger’s big blue eyes gleamed, and she swept Skye inside. “Come in, come in. With J and A Builders declaring bankruptcy, he could definitely use some work. Flip’s a good carpenter, but the only other box that could be marked with a plus on his report card would be ‘drinks well with others.’”

Skye let her cousin’s last comment go by without a response and said, “I’m happy he’s free but sorry he’s out of a job.” She hugged Ginger. “The developer he was working for went out of business?”