Murder of a Royal Pain

In a soft voice, the teacher said, “I coach the eighth-grade pom-pom squad.” She cleared her throat. “Yesterday the girls were all excited.”

Skye watched Neva’s expression darken and wondered what was coming.

“They wouldn’t tell me what was going on.” Madeline’s face clouded. “I knew it must be something big, because they were all giggly. So, I, uh . . .” Madeline’s cheeks reddened. “I eavesdropped.”

Jackie asked, “What did you hear?”

“A group of five girls has decided to get pregnant.” Madeline’s big blue eyes rounded in dismay. “They said they’d seen a Web site that said how cool it was to all have babies at the same time and raise them together.”

“Did you call their parents?” Skye asked Neva. Surely the principal hadn’t waited for this meeting before taking action.

“Of course,” Neva snapped. “But several of the mothers and fathers weren’t certain how to handle the situation. It’s not as if they can put the girls in chastity belts or force contraceptives down their throats.”

“Do you want me to talk to the girls?” Skye offered.

Before the principal could answer, Jackie waved her hand in the air. “Not to step on any toes”—she smiled at Skye—“but I should be the one to talk to them.”

“Why?” Neva looked at Jackie.

“Well, no offense, Skye, but social workers are better trained in counseling. Most school psychologists just test and consult.”

“That isn’t true, Jackie, at least in my school psych program.” Skye kept her expression neutral. “But if you’d like to handle this situation, I’ll step aside and concentrate on the high school’s problem.”

Neva sat back in her chair and frowned at Skye. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”

“Right.” Skye backpedaled quickly. “I meant I’d do whatever the team thinks is best.”

“Since it’s obvious Jackie is eager for the job”—Neva crossed her arms—“and this isn’t Skye’s top priority, I’d prefer Jackie to handle it.”

Skye feared her head was going to explode. Homer thought his chemical bombs should be number one on her list. Neva thought her wannabe mommies should be. Skye couldn’t wait to hear what the grade school principal considered to be her main concern.

“I’ll get right on it.” Jackie beamed.

Skye’s patience was wearing thin. “You told Homer we’d be back at the high school this afternoon to finish up the interviews there.”

“I thought you said you were going to handle that.” Jackie tossed her hair. “Since I’m needed here.”

“I meant I’d take the lead.” Skye’s stomach clenched. “But if you don’t do any of the interviews, it will take twice as long and Homer won’t be happy.”

“It seems fair to me.” Neva’s forehead wrinkled. “Homer can’t expect to monopolize both of you.” She pushed back her chair. “Jackie, after you finish with the girls, brief me before you leave.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, everyone.” Neva stood, indicating the meeting was over. “See you next week.” She put her hand on Skye’s arm as she attempted to leave. “I need a word with you before you go.”

Skye nodded, stepped aside, and waited.

Once everyone had left, Neva shut the door and said, “I’m very disappointed in you, Skye.”

Her pulse quickened. Shit! She had worked hard to gain the principal’s trust. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I expected you to be the one eager to talk to those girls. Instead, you’re late to the meeting and then act as if our problem isn’t as important as the high school’s.”

“I certainly didn’t mean to imply that.” Skye fought the urge to cry. “It’s just that Jackie and I already promised Homer our time.”

“I understand your concern, but I don’t think that’s the real reason.”

“It is.” Skye was confused. “Really.”

“Maybe you think it is, but unconsciously, I think you’re a little jealous of Jackie.” Neva tilted her head. “Before she was hired, you were the one everyone turned to for assistance. Could it be that you perceive she’s taking your place and you resent it?”

“No.” Skye disputed Neva’s theory. “I’m glad for the help.” But was she? Skye pushed that doubt away.

“Fine.” Neva shrugged her shoulders. “Now, about your being late. You know I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

“I wasn’t. I was here at quarter after for our eleven-thirty meeting.”

Neva raised an eyebrow. “But the meeting was rescheduled for eleven, at your request.”

Skye stood frozen, stunned by Neva’s words. Was she losing her mind, or was someone out to get her? “I most certainly did not reschedule the meeting.”

“What do you mean, there are still eighteen kids you haven’t seen?” Homer grabbed the edge of his desk and glared at Skye, seated opposite him.

Tuesday’s dismissal bell had rung ten minutes ago, and Skye was in Homer’s office giving him a rundown on what she had discovered—which was nothing. None of the students she’d interviewed seemed to have any knowledge of the chemical bombs or their creator.

“I told you this morning we couldn’t possibly see them all today, and since Jackie stayed at the junior high after PPS to deal with the situation there, I could only see eight kids this afternoon.”