Murder of a Royal Pain

After Simon left, Skye scanned the area for Bree Miles. Four girls were dressed as zombie cheerleaders, and Skye wasn’t sure which one was Bree. She could eliminate Cheyenne Harrison and Linnea Paine, but the other two were unfamiliar to her. Luckily, since they were all huddled together, it didn’t matter.

Skye dragged a chair over to a spot against the wall next to the group and pulled a book out of her backpack, pretending to be engrossed in the novel. Although it was only October, the girls were talking about the prom.

Skye shook her head. Cats were the only ones that were supposed to have nine lives, but teenagers certainly carried on as if they did, too. The girls had to have heard that someone had died, yet as far as Skye could tell, the big topic of conversation, after who was going with whom to the prom, was the dress each wanted and how much it would cost.

A half hour went by, and Cheyenne was describing an elaborate copper-colored strapless dress with a mermaid hem, made by some designer named BCBG for only seven hundred dollars, when an angry-looking man in his early forties marched over and said, “Bree, get your things. It’s time to go home.”

“But, Dad, Mom said I could stay out until midnight.”

“A woman’s been killed.” Mr. Miles pulled the girl aside and said so softly that Skye had to lean forward to hear, “They thought it was your mother.”

“But isn’t Mom home sick with the flu?”

“Yes.” Mr. Miles propelled the girl toward the outside door, and Skye followed, hugging the wall. “And we need to get back there before some busybody hears the rumor and calls to offer their condolences on her death.”

“Yeah. She’d freak.”

As Mr. Miles and Bree waited at the exit for the officer on duty to check with Quirk before he let them out, Bree asked, “So, who was the dead woman?”

Mr. Miles looked around, and Skye quickly averted her gaze so he wouldn’t guess she was listening. But as soon as he turned back to his daughter, Skye moved closer.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he said in a low voice, “but it’s Linnea’s mother. Mrs. Paine.”

Skye swallowed a gasp. Annette Paine! She was the last person Skye would have guessed. Tears slid down her cheek. Annette may have been overbearing, but she was also a mother and a wife. Her death would create a void in many lives.

Skye felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t liked Annette, had made fun of her obsession with Promfest, but no one deserved to be murdered. Wiping away the wetness under her eyes, Skye squared her shoulders. She would make sure Annette’s killer was found and brought to justice.

The first question Skye needed to answer was this: Why in the world had Annette been dressed as a witch when she was supposed to be the Bride of Frankenstein? Both the witches and Mrs. Frankenstein wore green makeup, so all Annette would have had to do was stick on the prosthetic nose and chin. Still, how had she had time to change costumes, arrive at Skye’s assigned spot, and get herself killed?

CHAPTER 10

A Night of Mystery

A few minutes after Mr. Miles and Bree left the building, an officer came into the hallway and spoke to Frankenstein, aka Dylan Paine, Annette’s husband. Funny, Skye didn’t remember seeing him among the crowd as they had waited for the county crime techs to arrive, or even after everyone had been interviewed. How could she have missed a six-foot-four green monster?

As Skye watched, Dr. Paine nodded a few times at what the policeman was saying, then pointed to the trio of zombie cheerleaders. Both men went over to the group, and Dr. Paine whispered into Linnea’s ear. She looked puzzled, but followed her father and the policeman through the door leading to the inner passageway.

Fifteen minutes later, Simon emerged wheeling a gurney that held a black body bag. Skye made her way to his side and walked with him toward the exit, speaking softly. “Was the witch Annette Paine?”

He gave a brief nod.

“Did they discover anything else?”

“Not that I heard.” The low volume of his voice made it clear that what he said was for her ears only. “The crime techs are still working.”

“Any sign of Evie Harrison?”

“I didn’t see her.” Before Simon pushed the gurney through the door, he paused and asked, “Are you okay to get home by yourself?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Skye watched as Simon and Xavier loaded the body bag into the back of the hearse. She was astonished at how easily she and Simon had fallen back into their former roles. They had broken up over a year ago, and she’d been dating Wally for nearly that long, yet it had felt right to be working as a team with Simon.

She reassured herself that this marked the beginning of a new friendship with her ex, nothing more. Certainly it had nothing to do with her relationship with Wally. She relaxed. It felt good to be at ease with Simon again.