Murder of a Royal Pain

What did she know about the other two witches? Skye mentally went through the Rolodex in her mind, trying to dredge up information. She had met Nina Miles a couple of years ago. Her oldest daughter, Farrah, had been a member of the cheerleading squad whose captain had been murdered. And during that same period, her youngest daughter, Shawna, had cut off the hair of one of her classmates in order to stop the other girl from performing the starring role in the annual dance recital. If Nina was the dead witch, that meant three children were now motherless.

Not that she wanted the body to be that of Hope Kennedy. Shoot! She didn’t want either of the two women to be the dead witch. She didn’t want it to be anyone. What she really wanted was for this to be a nightmare and to wake up.

She pinched herself, but other than a red mark on her arm, nothing had changed: She was still standing in the drafty hallway of the old American Legion hall. The crowd had backed off and was now milling around in small knots. Skye knew they should all be separated and not allowed to talk to one another, but what could she do? There were just too many of them.

As she strained to hear fragments of conversations, several Scumble River police officers arrived, followed closely by Simon Reid, who, in addition to owning the town funeral home and bowling alley, was also the county coroner.

Skye stepped aside and let the officers and Simon through the door. Simon touched her hand briefly as he passed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She looked up into his concerned golden hazel eyes and tried to smile. “Just a little shaken up.”

He patted her shoulder and nodded, then hurried into the passageway.

A few seconds later Anthony, one of the PD’s part-timers, came back out and said, “Roy told me to take over for you. We can’t do much until County gets here.”

Scumble River was too small to have its own crime scene techs, and called on those from the sheriff’s department when they needed forensic evidence collected.

Skye nodded. “Does he want me to do anything else?”

Anthony looked uncomfortable. Skye had helped his little sister get the special instruction she needed in school, and he was one of her biggest fans. He stared at his shoes. “Uh, no, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” she prompted.

“Uh, he said he didn’t need your help.”

“Oh.” Skye felt her face flush. She hadn’t realized that Quirk didn’t like her, or at least didn’t like her working with the police.

“I think maybe Roy is a little, uh . . . I mean, this is probably his first murder without the chief around, and he might be feeling a little . . .”

“Overwhelmed? Defensive? Pressured?” Skye suggested.

“Yeah. All of those.” Anthony’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Chief Boyd will straighten things out when he gets back. Don’t worry. The rest of us know you’re okay.”

“Thanks.” Skye paused, considering whether to mention the Countess Dracula incident to Anthony or wait until she could speak to Quirk again. She hated to put the young man in the middle, but she decided she had no choice. Someone had to locate Evie Harrison. She may very well have witnessed the murder, and there was an outside chance she had committed it.

After Skye finished telling Anthony about her run-in with Evie, and he relayed the message to Quirk, Skye drifted from group to group, checking to see what people were saying and trying to locate Hope and Nina.

The only interesting fact she learned was that another bunch of haunted-house workers had gathered near the front entrance. The police weren’t allowing anyone to leave their present locations, so it was impossible to judge who was stuck in the lobby and who was really missing.

It took nearly an hour for the crime scene techs to arrive—the Stanley County seat was located in Laurel, down forty-five miles of winding country roads. Once the techs got there, the Scumble River police started interviewing the people who had been detained. But even after all were spoken to, they still weren’t allowed to leave. No one knew why they were being held, but Skye guessed the police wouldn’t release anyone until they had identified the victim.

Skye was in the first group questioned, and once she was finished giving her statement, she talked to the people around her. No one had seen anything prior to the police’s arrival, or afterward. And no one had seen Nina or Hope either. Skye was trying to think of what else to do when she noticed that Simon had come out into the hallway and was using his cell phone.

After he hung up, she went over to him. “Has the victim been identified?”

“No.” Simon looked at her quizzically. “Haven’t you talked to Roy?”

Skye was torn. “Uh . . .” Should she admit Quirk was cutting her out of the loop or pretend she was still on the team? “Not really.”

Simon tilted his head. “It’s not the same when Boyd’s not here, is it?”

“Well . . .”

“I suppose Roy’s within his rights. After all, you’re a consultant. If he doesn’t think he needs your help, he doesn’t have to include you.”

“But—”