Murder of a Royal Pain

“Maybe we can get some of these file cabinets moved. All but one is filled with guidance records that date back at least ten years, which means they should have been destroyed long ago.” Skye could read the other woman’s disappointment, and was a bit confused by it. She would expect a seasoned educator to be used to appalling conditions. Lack of space was a problem in most schools.

Jackie nodded, a frown on her round face. “Where are the social work records?”

Skye shrugged. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a social worker, there aren’t any separate records. I’ve been doing the histories and all the counseling, so everything is in one file.”

Jackie finally sat down, her expression determined. “Well, now that I’m here, that will all change.”

“Uh, right.” This was what Skye had wanted. She had been asking for help, and would be happy if she never had to take another social history, but something about this woman bothered her. Skye couldn’t put her finger on it, but Jackie seemed . . . familiar. “By the way, have we met before?”

“I doubt it.” She shook her head. “I’ve been back in the area for only a few weeks, and I’ve spent most of that time with my mother.”

Hmm. Skye was puzzled. Maybe Jackie seemed familiar because Skye and Jackie looked a lot alike. They were close in age and physical appearance—similar hair, eye color, and build. Although Skye would bet her next home-improvement loan payment that Jackie was wearing colored contacts and her hair wasn’t naturally that shade.

Still, they had a lot in common. Both of them had had to move back to small towns, and both worked in a helping profession. So what was troubling her? Skye bit her lip. Could it be that she felt displaced? First she had to share her office; now she was being told Jackie was taking over her duties. But they were tasks she didn’t want, so why did she care?

Skye resolutely pushed the negative thoughts away. She was happy Jackie had been hired, and she would do everything in her power to make her welcome.

Jackie interrupted Skye’s thoughts by asking, “How are we going to work this shared office deal?”

“Since we’re both responsible for the entire school district, we’ll set up a schedule that puts us at different schools most of the time,” Skye suggested. “I’m guessing we’ll be sharing offices in all the buildings.”

“Yes, that might work. But won’t there be times when we both have to be in the same school?”

“On those days, such as when the Pupil Personal Services teams meet, we’ll have to share the room. I guess we’ll have to think of it as having a college roommate. Someone to talk over our frustrations with. Let’s face it: The confidential nature of our jobs makes it kind of tough to socialize in the teachers’ lounge.”

Jackie nodded slowly.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, roomy?” Skye asked, hoping to help the other woman relax.

“There’s not much to tell.” Jackie shrugged. “I’m single, looking for Mr. Right, but usually end up with Mr. Right Now. No children. How about you?”

“About the same. Though I’m finally dating a very nice guy, Wally Boyd. He’s the police chief in town. I live in a big old money pit of a house that I inherited, I have a black cat named Bingo, and I’m related to most of the people in town. Are you living in Clay Center with your mom?”

“Uh, well, no.” Jackie pleated the material of her skirt. “She lives in that new senior housing and there’s no room for me, so I’m staying at the Up A Lazy River Motor Court while I look for an apartment.”

“That’s my uncle Charlie’s place.”

“Your uncle is the school board president?”

“Actually, he’s my godfather,” Skye corrected.

“You said you owned a large house. Are you interested in renting out a room?”

“Sorry.” Skye shook her head. “I like my privacy too much.”

“No problem.”

Feeling a little guilty, Skye joked, “At least at the motor court you don’t have to clean, since you get maid service.”

“No, I’d rather do it myself. I don’t like anyone messing with my things. I just pick up fresh towels at the motel office.” Jackie stood. “Shouldn’t we get over to the other schools?”

“Sure. Why don’t you tell Opal where we’re going while I rearrange a few appointments? I’ll meet you outside. Where are you parked?”

“I managed to snag a spot in the front row.”

Skye grimaced. “Was it, by any chance, the space right next to the handicapped slots?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Uh-oh. That’s Homer’s spot. In most cases his bark is worse than his bite, but not on the issue of parking. Let me fill you in on the facts of life at Scumble River High. Number one—don’t park in the front row. Ever. Those slots are unofficially reserved for administration and department heads. The chair of the English department will eat you alive if you’re in her place.

“Number two—be nice to Opal, the office secretary. She may look like a mouse, but she’s the real power at this school.

“Number three—the transportation department rules above all. Never mess with anything having to do with the buses.”

“How do I get on Opal’s good side?”