She felt a frisson of unease. Had May decided to come in person to harangue her further? Her mother and Ursula had some longtime feud going, Skye had no idea what about.
“Ms. Denison, please come to the office.”
Yikes! Ursula hadn’t even given her a minute to get there before repeating the message. Skye wasn’t expecting any parents, and if one had come without an appointment, that usually meant trouble.
Skye grabbed her key, locked the door behind her, and rushed toward the front of the school. When she entered the main office, she hurried to the counter and asked Ursula, “Why didn’t you use the intercom?”
“Your line was busy.” Ursula clipped off the words, giving them an impatient edge.
“Sorry.” Skye had long ago stopped trying to defend herself to Ursula. “What’s up?”
“Her.” The secretary pointed behind her to where Risé Vaughn stood in the health room doorway chatting with Abby Fleming, the school nurse.
“She”—Ursula’s pause was almost imperceptible—“insisted on seeing you.”
“Oh.” Skye looked toward Risé. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“Is there somewhere we can speak in private?” Risé glanced pointedly at Ursula.
“Is this about one of our students?”
Risé ignored Skye’s question. “I’d prefer to speak to you alone.”
“Okay.” Skye gestured over her shoulder. “We can use my office.”
“Thank you.”
Now what? This day was going downhill fast. Skye led the way and Risé followed, the only sound the squeak of the bookstore owner’s tennis shoes on the worn gray linoleum.
Once they were seated, Skye behind her desk and her visitor on a folding chair, Risé said, “I hope this isn’t a bad time. You seem a little tense.”
“No. It’s fine.” Skye rubbed the back of her neck. “I just got off the phone with my mother.”
“Did you two have words?” Risé’s expression was sympathetic.
“Yeah.” Skye made a wry face. “But I didn’t get to use mine.”
“Ah.”
When Risé didn’t go on, Skye asked, “What can I do for you, Risé? I don’t have any information I can share with you about your burglary or Kayla’s death.”
“I’m not here about that.” Risé flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. Today she was wearing blue jeans and an orange T-shirt with FICTION REVEALS TRUTHS THAT REALITY OBSCURES—JESSAMYN WEST printed on it.
“Then how can I help you?” Skye wondered what Risé was doing at the junior high. “Do you have a student here?”
“No, Orlando and I never had children,” Risé stated, almost daring Skye to comment.
“I see.” Skye tilted her head. Why was the bookstore owner pussyfooting around? Risé had struck her as someone who was more direct.
“Anyway.” Risé cleared her throat. “I don’t generally like to ask for favors . . .”
Oh-oh.
“But I’m in a bind.” Risé reached into her shoulder bag and handed Skye a flyer. “Part of Kayla’s duties was to lead our teen book club.”
“I remember seeing a notice for the book club, and having Kayla lead it was a terrific idea.”
“Thanks. I thought having someone younger would encourage the teens not only to participate in the group, but also to express themselves more freely.”
“That makes sense.” Skye sneaked a peek at her watch. She really needed to get to work. At this rate, she’d be up until midnight doing paperwork, trying to make up the time she’d already lost this morning. “Did a lot of kids sign up for the club?”
“I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’d say yes. We have twelve on the list and sold nearly twenty copies of the book, so more may show up.”
“That’s great.” Skye beamed. She’d been correct in thinking the bookstore would promote reading among the teenagers. “Will you be leading the discussion since Kayla is, ah . . . not available?”
“That’s my problem.” Risé’s shoulders drooped. “Not only haven’t I read the book, but I don’t have any relationship with the kids.”
“But—”
Risé cut Skye off. “If they don’t enjoy themselves this first time, they won’t come back.” She straightened. “My husband and I have put all our money into this business. We need the teens’ support.”
“That’s true.” Skye knew Risé was right. Teens could be unforgiving if they were disappointed. “But what do you think I can do?”
“You can lead the group.” Risé held up a hand to stop Skye’s protest. “My new employee tells me that the kids all like you.”
“I don’t know about that.” Skye’s cheeks turned pink. She didn’t handle compliments well. Changing the subject, she asked, “Who have you hired to replace Kayla?”
“Xenia Craughwell.”
“Really?” Skye was shocked. Xenia didn’t need the money, and it was hard to imagine the girl in a position where she would have to be pleasant to people. “How did you find someone so quickly?”
“She came to me yesterday and filled out an application. She passed my little reading and math test with flying colors and really seems to love books.” Risé looked at Skye with a curious expression. “Why do you ask?
“Uh . . .” Skye thought fast, not wanting to give her real reasons. “She just never mentioned that she was looking for a job.”
“Oh.” Risé seemed satisfied. “So, will you take over the teen club?”
Skye wavered. “I’d really like to help you out, but my plate is pretty full right now.” She hated to see the teen book club die out before it even got started. “Isn’t there someone else you could ask?”
“Not at this late date.” Risé shook her head. “The group meets Thursday night.”
“Well . . .”
“Last Saturday, at our grand opening, you mentioned you had read If I Have a Wicked Stepmother, Where’s My Prince?, which is our selection.”
“True,” Skye admitted. “But . . .”
“You’d be perfect.” Risé’s tone was cajoling.
“I don’t know.” Skye tried to avoid looking into the woman’s desperate eyes.
“Maybe your friend, the school librarian, would co-lead with you,” Risé coaxed. “She seemed really excited that Scumble River finally had a bookstore.”
“Okay,” Skye gave in. “But you need to find someone else for next month. I already have two jobs, not to mention a fiancé and my family to deal with, so I can’t take this on permanently.”
“That’s all I ask. Next month Xenia can take over. We couldn’t afford to pay someone on a permanent basis, but”—Risé pulled a checkbook from her open purse—“name your fee.”
“A white chocolate mocha latte and some of Orlando’s amazing shortbread.” Skye smiled. “I know Trixie will work for treats, too.”
“We’ll supply you both for a year.” Risé got up. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“How’s Orlando doing?” Skye wondered whether his falling off the wagon had started him on a downward spiral.
“He’s working on remaining sober.” Risé’s face was hard to read. “He says he wants to win back my trust, but we’ll see.” She opened the door. “We’re having one of his favorite authors for a book signing on Saturday, and that’s helping him stay positive. I just hope we get a decent turnout.”
“A book signing?” Skye clapped her hands. “How exciting. I’ll definitely be there.”
“Good.” Risé smiled wryly. “Bring a lot of your friends.”
Skye accompanied Risé to the school’s front door. As she watched her walk into the parking lot, she thought how similar to Risé Kayla had looked from the back. Which one had really been the intended victim? The young girl whom no one had any apparent reason to kill, or the woman with a lot of enemies?