Murder of a Royal Pain

“Are you blaming Jackie? She called me and said that you insisted she stay there, that you could handle the interviews here.” A scowl twisted Homer’s heavy features. “I expect you to be finished and to have found the culprit by noon tomorrow.” He spoke sharply. “Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“If Jackie’s back to help, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Homer’s response was an animal-like grunt. He picked up the phone and started dialing, dismissing her with a wave of his stubby fingers.

Skye headed back to her office to work on a report that was due the next day, but she was happy to see Trixie leaning against the wall near her door when she arrived. Reports could be written at home, and her friend was always good for a laugh.

Trixie handed Skye a Diet Coke and said, “Wait until you hear what I saw at the grocery store yesterday.”

“What?” Skye felt a spark of anticipation. Trixie was a great storyteller.

“I was in the produce aisle getting some fruit for this week’s lunches, and I saw Dr. Paine over by the deli counter.”

“His wife dies on Friday and he’s buying salami on Monday?” Skye tsked.

“If you think that’s bad, wait until you hear the rest of it.” Trixie plopped into the chair facing Skye’s desk. “So, I start to walk over to him to tell him how sorry I am about Annette, but another woman gets to him first.”

Skye settled into her seat. “Who was it?”

“I thought she looked familiar, but couldn’t remember why. Anyway, she said hello to him, and he said, ‘Do I know you?’ ”

Skye popped the top of her soda can and nodded for Trixie to continue.

“The woman said to him, ‘You’re the father of one of my kids.’ ”

“Holy smokes!” Skye’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t heard the half of it.” Trixie’s brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “He stared at the woman for a second or two, then said, ‘Oh, my God! Are you the stripper from that club near O’Hare? The one that I banged on the couch during my buddy’s stag party?’ ”

Skye had just taken a drink of soda and it spewed across her desktop as she whooped. After catching her breath and mopping up the mess, she asked, “What did the woman say?”

“She said, ‘No. I’m your daughter Mallory’s fifth-grade teacher.’ ”

They both laughed until tears ran down their cheeks; then Skye’s face sobered, and she said, “I forgot all about Annette’s other daughter. I wonder if I should go over to the grade school tomorrow. Homer wouldn’t let me see if any of Linnea’s friends wanted to talk about Annette’s death, but maybe Caroline would want me to talk to Mallory’s classmates.”

“Wouldn’t she have called you if she thought she needed you?” Trixie asked. When Skye nodded, Trixie added, “Besides, I heard you already have your hands full with the chemical bombs here and the wannabe mommies at the junior high. What’s up with that?”

Skye filled her in, concluding with, “Then Neva said I had phoned and left a message requesting that the meeting be moved from eleven thirty to eleven.”

“How weird.” Trixie took a sip of her Dr Pepper. “Maybe the secretary misunderstood whoever called.”

“That must be it.” Skye opened the bottom drawer of her desk and grabbed the package of cookies. Her stomach was growling. Jackie had failed to bring the promised sandwiches to the PPS meeting, and Skye hadn’t had anything to eat since seven a.m.

“Do you think Neva believed you?”

“She said she did, but she’s a hard one to read.” Skye offered the Oreos to Trixie.

“No, thanks.” Trixie reached into the jar on Skye’s desk and pulled out a piece of Halloween candy. “Sounds like Jackie is really diving right into things around here. She must be a big help to you.”

“Yeah, she’s Johnny-on-the-spot.” Skye muttered, twisting the Oreo apart. “Too much so. Let’s talk about something else.” Skye took a lick of the cream center. “Ick. I think these cookies have gone bad.”

“Throw them away.” Trixie peeled the wrapper from a tiny Milky Way. “What did Vince want to talk to you about?”

“Right. We haven’t spoken since Saturday.” Skye tried another Oreo, this time taking a bite of the intact cookie. They seemed okay as long as she ate them whole. “As I feared, Vince’s news was bad.”

“He dumped Loretta?”

“Other way around.”

“No!” Trixie’s eyes widened. “That’s got to be a first. Why?”

“She gave him the old ‘we’re too different’ speech, but I suspect there’s more to it. I need to call her and find out.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Trixie’s expression was doubtful. “You don’t want to ruin your friendship.”

“You could be right.”

After a long pause, Trixie said, “What’s happening with the murder?”

“I overheard some info at church I’ll follow up on. Your story about what Dr. Paine said in the grocery store pretty much confirms what they were saying about him.” Skye filled Trixie in on the gossip about the dentist and about Evie Harrison, ending with, “And I was nearly run over by a car after Mass.”

“Oh, my God. Were you all right?” Trixie gasped.

“Just a scraped knee and palm,” Skye reassured her friend. “Kurt Michaels pushed me out of the way. Quirk blew the whole incident off.”