Murder of a Royal Pain

“I’ll have to talk to her about that.” Skye was glad Vince couldn’t see her grin. It looked as if her big brother might finally be serious about a woman. Maybe May would hear wedding bells soon after all. Skye’s smile widened. And if Vince got married, maybe her mother would get off her back. “I’ve got to go. Wally’s picking me up at six. We’re going to Joliet to see The Forgotten at the Cinemark, then eating at Merichka’s.”

“I can taste their poor-boys now.” Vince smacked his lips. “I love how the garlic butter runs down your hands when you bite into one.”

“I love their double-baked potatoes. I think they’re the best I ever tasted.”

“Mmm.”

They both were silent a moment; then Skye said, “Well, I really do have to go. I haven’t even showered yet.”

“You could wait and invite Wally to join you.”

“Men. You all think alike.” Skye giggled and hung up the phone.

Her conversation with Vince had cheered Skye up, and she found herself singing while she got ready. She loved this time of year. Fall clothes were the best. The restaurant they were going to wasn’t dressy, so she put on brown jeans, a leopard-print blouse, and a gold suede jacket.

She was zipping up brown leather ankle boots when the doorbell rang. After taking one last look in the mirror, she added a pair of dangly citrine earrings and ran down the stairs.

When she opened the door, Wally stepped inside, swung her into his arms, and kissed her until she was breathless. As they moved farther into the foyer, Skye froze. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” He lifted his head from her neck.

“I thought I heard the back door. It has an annoying squeak I keep meaning to oil.”

“I didn’t hear anything. Isn’t it locked?”

“Yes.” Skye moved out of his arms and headed toward the kitchen. “I thought so, but I’d better check.”

“Wait a minute.” He caught up with her and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Let me go first.” He reached down and pulled the gun from his ankle holster.

Skye frowned, then shrugged and stepped out of his way. His urge to protect her was a cop instinct, not a chauvinistic impulse.

When they got to the back door, it was closed. The thumb lock was engaged, but not the dead bolt. It was Wally’s turn to frown. He turned the key that was in the dead bolt and handed it to her. “You need to keep both of these locked and the key somewhere else.”

“I do. I mean, I keep them locked.” Skye chewed her lip. “I don’t go out this door very often—it’s easier to go out the front to get to the garage. I’m sure I locked it the last time I went out this way.”

“Well, it’s locked now.” Wally bent and petted the black cat rubbing against his shins. “Does Bingo have a secret life outdoors?”

“Right. I can just see him as the leader of a gang of cat burglars. What would they steal? Cans of Fancy Feast and pots of catnip?” Skye snickered. “Maybe it’s the ghost trying to keep us apart again.” She and Wally had just about given up trying to spend any time at Skye’s house—although Wally wouldn’t admit it had anything to do with the supernatural. His excuse was that his place was more comfortable.

But whether he believed Skye’s house was possessed or not, it seemed that whenever they started to get intimate, some weird occurrence would interrupt them. Secretly—Skye had never shared this thought with anyone—she suspected the ghost of the previous owner, from whom Skye had inherited the house, was behind the mischief.

Skye had met Alma Griggs a little over a year ago. A widow who had lost her only child in a car accident, Mrs. Griggs had convinced herself that Skye was the reincarnation of her daughter. And Skye was pretty sure that Mrs. Griggs didn’t want Wally around.

Whether the deceased owner was trying to keep all men away from Skye or only Wally was unclear, since Skye had broken up with her previous boyfriend, Simon, before taking ownership of Mrs. Griggs’s eerie home.

Wally broke into her thoughts. “You don’t really believe in ghosts, do you?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, not sure what she thought. “Bizarre stuff does seem to happen to us a lot here.”

“Hey, I just thought of something. It was probably your mom. She likes to drop by and clean, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’s been here lately, at least not that I noticed.” Skye looked around the kitchen. “Although I guess she could have been here. She does tend to clean things that already look fine to me.”

“That’s it. I’ll bet it was May, and she opened the door to shake some rugs or something and didn’t reengage the dead bolt when she came back in.”

“You could be right.” Skye followed him back to the foyer. Unless it was Mrs. Griggs’s ghost, May was a reasonable guess. Besides, who else could it be?

CHAPTER 5

Time after Time