Murder of a Royal Pain

“Like no one called her.” Vince grinned. “You can be sure one of her friends—Hester or Maggie or Aunt Kitty, or maybe all three—has let her know about it by now.”

If that were true, Skye could only hope May was on a winning streak at the slot mchines, or her mother would be on the next flight home. In any case, she vowed to screen her calls. She was not talking to her mother until Wally was back home and the rumors had died down.

“You haven’t heard the best part yet.” Vince’s good humor appeared to have returned.

Skye cringed. Nothing like seeing his sister in trouble to cheer up her brother. “What?”

“Miss Letitia said that while she was at the podiatrist’s office this morning to get her toenails trimmed—she has that awful fungus—Priscilla Van Horn, who was there for her bunions, told Miss Letitia that Wally was seeing Annette Paine on the sly. Priscilla said she heard that Annette told you about the affair and you threatened to leave Wally. So Wally killed Annette for ruining his life. Then he left town to avoid being arrested, and you were so distraught that you spent the night with Kurt Michaels.”

“Good Lord! These women should be writing for the tabloids.”

“Yeah. But you did dump Simon, and before the sofa cushion had cooled off, you took up with Wally.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Skye closed her eyes. Just when you thought there was nothing else in your life that could crash and burn, the ashes of your previous disasters caught fire and burst into flame.

“Yes. You are in deep doo-doo.”

“This is so unfair,” Skye whined. “How many women have you inked in, then a few weeks later crossed out of your little black book? And no one talks about you like this.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault there’s a different set of rules for men and women in small towns like Scumble River.” Vince shrugged. “Get over it. You need to do something about these rumors ASAP.”

“What am I supposed to do? Hold a press conference?”

“Not altogether a bad idea.” Vince snickered, then turned serious. “You know, you could talk to some of the media about the murder and get out your side of the story.”

“No.” She pressed her fingers against her temples. “People who get in bed with the media usually get screwed.”

“But you need to nip the rumors in the bud before Mom and Dad get home.”

“I agree completely. But there has to be a better way to do it than trying to manipulate the press.” Skye thought a moment, then asked, “Who’s the reigning queen of gossip with Mom gone?”

A second later they both said, “Aunt Minnie.”

Skye asked, “Do you have any plans for supper?”

Vince shook his head, taking her non sequitur in stride.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Vince made a pitiful face. “With Mom out of town, there’s no one to bring me lunch.”

Skye bit her tongue. This wasn’t the time to remind him that a thirty-eight-year-old man should be able to make a sandwich, stick it in a brown paper bag, and bring it with him to work.

“Okay, then here’s the plan.” Skye got up. “We’ll go get something to eat at the Feed Bag—I’m driving, since you’ve had so much to drink. Afterward we’ll drop by Aunt Minnie’s and give her the real scoop.”

“Which means two minutes after we leave her house, all of Scumble River will know.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you going to let her in on why Wally’s out of town?” Vince asked.

“I probably shouldn’t if he told Quirk not to tell.”

“Wouldn’t he be more concerned about stopping all the talk than keeping his privacy?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? And I’m sure he had no idea that by keeping his destination and reason for leaving a secret, he was, in fact, fueling the gossip he was trying to avoid.” Skye bit her lip. “Still, maybe I’d better check with Wally before I visit Aunt Minnie.”

“That sounds like the smart thing to do.” Vince eyed her thoughtfully. “Can you call him?”

“I’ll try his cell again, but I already left him a message to call me ASAP, and if he’s in the hospital he probably has his phone switched off.”

“He’s in the hospital?” Vince sounded shocked.

“It’s a long story, and you can’t tell anyone, but . . .” Skye filled Vince in on her Friday, starting with Wally’s call.

“Is the Promfest committee still putting on the haunted house?” Vince asked when she finished.

“Not this weekend. There was a message on my answering machine from Evie Harrison when I got up this morning. The police haven’t released the scene yet, but they told the committee that A Ghoul’s Night Out can reopen by next Friday.”

“Are you going back?”

“I don’t want to.” Skye’s voice was unsteady. “I’ll have to think about it.” Vince shot her a concerned look, but she changed the subject, telling him about Frannie’s bombshell, and ending with, “Not one of my best nights.”

“Nope.” Vince’s expression had returned morose. “Sounds as if neither one of us should have gotten out of bed yesterday.”

“Probably not.” Skye gazed out the window. “Maybe not today either.”