Murder of a Bookstore Babe

Risé pursed her lips. “I met Kathryn at a chamber of commerce meeting, and I think she’d be open to my story.”

“Great.” Skye smiled. “One other thing.” She twisted the handles of her tote bag. “You know the police now think that murder was the primary intention, not burglary. So we’re exploring all possibilities, which includes the chance that you rather than Kayla were the intended victim.”

“Really?” Risé’s face knotted with surprise. “Me? Why?”

“Well, I hate to ask . . .” Skye hesitated.

“Go ahead.” Risé met Skye’s gaze. “I’ve never flinched from uncomfortable questions, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Fair enough.” Skye nodded. “I’m thinking it might be someone who lost money with your firm and blames you. Was there anyone local who invested?”

“Yes.”

“Who?” Skye asked, hoping Risé wouldn’t claim confidentiality.

“Troy Yates.”

“The bank president?” Skye clarified, although the only other Troy Yates she knew was his son, Troy Jr., currently away at college.

“Uh-huh.”

“Then we’ll talk to him.” Skye dug a pad from her tote and made a note. “Anyone else around here who lost money and might want to kill you?”

Risé hesitated for a nanosecond before shaking her head.

Skye watched the other woman’s expression. “Are you sure?” She was certain Risé was holding something back.

“Yes.” Risé got up. “Yates is the only one from this area who lost money and might hold a grudge.”

“Okay.”

Skye started to leave, but Risé stopped her. “Um, if I was the intended victim, do you think the killer might try again?”

“It’s hard to say,” Skye hedged. “It would probably be a good idea not to be alone, make sure the doors are locked after hours, and keep up your guard.”

“Yeah.” Risé’s skin was pale, and there was fear in her eyes. “I’ll do that.”

Skye watched Risé head into the café, then walked over to the counter. Xenia was alone at the register, and Skye handed the girl Josephson’s book and a fifty-dollar bill. “I’m curious about something.”

“Yeah?” Xenia rang up the purchase.

“Let’s face it. I know you don’t need the money, so why are you really working here?” Skye held out her hand for the change and was a little dismayed to see it was less than twenty dollars. This was why she rarely bought hardcovers.

Several different expressions crossed Xenia’s face before she settled on nonchalant. “I thought it would be an interesting experience.”

“Try again.”

“I don’t answer to you.” Xenia’s posture was belligerent as she shoved the book into a bag.

“No, you don’t,” Skye replied smoothly. “But if it has anything to do with Kayla’s murder, I really need to know.”

“Why?” Xenia’s voice was bitter. “Nothing will help Kayla now.”

“That’s true,” Skye agreed. “But once you kill someone, it’s much easier to do it a second time.”

“So you’re worried about me.” Xenia’s tone was a little less hostile.

“Yes, I am.” Skye stuffed her purchase into her tote bag.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend.” Skye realized that was true. She did regard the prickly teen as a friend. “And I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

“Say I believe you. I can’t talk about it here.” Xenia glanced over her shoulder. “I get off work in twenty minutes. Meet me at my car.”

CHAPTER 22

Lady Chatterley’s Lover

“Like everything about Xenia, there’s no one clear reason,” Skye said to Wally as he drove them toward Troy Yates’s house. “She’s making a documentary about people who have downsized and simplified their lives. She’s observing Risé and Orlando to see if they’re happier in their new circumstances, or if they would prefer to go back to their previous existence.”

The Yateses lived in one of the new subdivisions just inside the Scumble River School District. Previously, the county sheriff’s department had been responsible for patrolling that area, but it had been annexed into the city limits a couple of years ago.

“And?” Wally pulled into a paved driveway flanked by two concrete lions—one with its right paw raised in the air and the other its left.

“And she wants to find Kayla’s killer.” Skye craned her neck to examine the massive brick house as it came into view. It had lots of fancy shaped windows, expensive landscaping, and a five-car garage that was bigger than many homes. The Yateses certainly didn’t appear to be hurting for money. “Since Xenia had no clue where to begin to investigate a murder, she figured working at the scene of the crime was her best bet.”

“Not bad reasoning.” Wally stopped the squad car and turned off the engine.

“She’s getting bored working in the bookstore, so I don’t think she’ll last much longer.” Skye got out of the cruiser and met Wally on the walkway. “Plus she finds it a strain to be pleasant to people she considers her inferiors.”

“Don’t we all.” Wally grinned, then discretely tipped his head toward the house. “Let me do the talking here.” Someone had drawn back a curtain and was watching them. “You gauge Yates’s reactions and give me a sign if you want to ask something.”