The exterior of the skate center looked different at night. The last time Skye had seen the rink, she’d wondered whether it was about to be torn down. Now shadows hid the peeling paint and hinted at what the building could look like if Milton was able to restore it fully. A shaft of light from the fixture above the front door illuminated the entrance.
Leaves blew over the sidewalk, making it slippery, and Wally steadied Skye as her foot slid. “Did you talk to everyone who was mad at Risé?” Wally held one of the double glass doors open.
“All except Hugo.” Skye stepped into the foyer. “Charlie, Tomi, Kevin, and Flip all have alibis.”
“Martinez isn’t finished with the background check on Risé, but so far she’s clean as a whistle. The woman hasn’t even had a parking ticket.”
“Did Officer Martinez find anything on Kayla?” Skye asked.
“Nothing we didn’t already know.” Wally shrugged. “She’s exactly what you’d expect of a small-town good girl. No one had anything bad to say about her, and the dean at the Chicago School of Film and Photography spoke highly of her. He said she’d already won a couple of competitions.”
“I wonder if the other students were jealous.” They stopped at the entrance to the rink.
“Martinez is going up there tomorrow to check that out.”
Skye nodded, then looked around. Milton had refinished the floor, laid new carpet, put in a drop ceiling, and installed nightclub lighting. Tables and chairs were positioned behind the rail, and a snack bar was located in the rear.
“If you two are through making your grand entrance, maybe you could get the hell out of the way so someone else could get in.”
“What’s your rush?” Wally’s voice was genial, but he gripped Skye’s arm and didn’t move.
Skye turned and saw that the person trying to get around them was—speak of the devil—her cousin Hugo. He held his wife’s hand tightly, and Victoria didn’t seem happy.
“Some of us have other places to be tonight and need to keep moving,” Hugo sneered. “Unlike the police, we don’t get a salary if we don’t hustle.”
Wally patted his flat stomach. “That’s right. They pay me to sit around and eat donuts.” After making sure Hugo got the message, he drew Skye aside and made a sweeping gesture. “Be my guest.”
Victoria muttered as she went past. “Some of us don’t need to make a big deal in order to draw all eyes to us.”
Huh? Skye had no idea where that had that come from. Victoria had almost sounded jealous, but that couldn’t be it. She looked like a goddess. Smooth blond hair fell straight to the middle of her back, blue eyes shone from a sun-kissed complexion, and the short indigo halter dress she wore molded to her slim, toned body.
Once Hugo and his wife were out of earshot, Skye said to Wally, “I used to feel sorry for Victoria—Hugo’s one of the most insufferable men I know. But she just lost a lot of my sympathy.”
“Don’t be too hard on her.” Wally took Skye’s hand and ran his fingers over her inner wrist. “It’s hard for someone like her, who has always gotten along on her looks, to realize that sometimes that’s not enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Victoria doesn’t think you’re as beautiful as she is, but you get in the paper all the time, and now that you’re engaged, that’s all anyone can talk about.”
“Not really.”
“Yes, really.” Wally kissed her palm.
“You know, Hugo didn’t seem quite like himself tonight.” Skye frowned.
“Yeah.” Wally’s grin was sharklike. “I noticed the improvement right away.”
“I’m not kidding.” Skye bit her lip. “He’s usually a lot . . . uh . . . smoother, more unctuous. I wonder what brought about the change.”
“Maybe you can find out when you talk to him tomorrow.” Wally placed his palm on the small of her back. “Shall we?”
They entered the outer rink area, and Skye recognized most of the group milling around. Everyone who was anyone in town was present.
“Why are all these people here?” Skye wrinkled her brow and whispered to Wally. “Most of them seem to be doing more talking than skating.”
“Same reason we are.” Wally cupped her elbow, and they moved toward a man standing behind a counter. “To show support for a new business in town.”
“Funny they didn’t do that for Tales and Treats,” Skye muttered.
“Milton’s lived in Scumble River for the past seventeen years.” Wally raised an eyebrow. “You know how things work around here.”
Milton Leigh had short brown hair that resembled the growth on a Chia Pet. He was long and lean, with full lips framed by wrinkles. Skye couldn’t tell whether he was forty or fifty or maybe even older.
Wally shook hands with the skate center owner and said, “Milton, I don’t think you know my fiancée, Skye Denison. Skye, this is my old friend Milton Leigh.”
Skye shook hands and said, “The rink looks wonderful, Mr. Leigh.”
“Call me Milton.” His gray eyes were shrewd. “You must be the mayor’s niece.”
“Yes.” Skye stopped herself from making a face. “I must be.”
Milton was dressed in jeans and a cotton plaid shirt with pearl snaps. He reminded Skye of a 1960s Grand Ole Opry star, and she wondered whether he could sing.
He looked her over and said to Wally, “Big improvement over the last filly you hooked up with.”
Skye narrowed her eyes. She really didn’t like being compared to livestock, even if she was being awarded a blue ribbon.
“No offense intended.” Milton grinned at her sour expression. “You have to excuse an old cowboy.”
“Of course.” Skye changed the subject. “You’ve got a big crowd tonight.”
“Yep.” Milton nodded. “But these people aren’t my bread and butter. I bet you none of them will even lace on a pair of skates.”
“Oh? It’s nice that they’re here to support you, though, right?”
“Only a few, like your fella, are here for me.” Milton caressed his big silver belt buckle. “Most are like Hugo over there. He needs to keep his finger stirring the pot and riling everyone up. He’s really got a bee in his bonnet this time.” Milton shook his head. “Now, are you two going to skate or what?”
“Do you think he meant Hugo’s problem with Risé?” Skye asked Wally as they put on the roller skates Milton had handed them.
“Maybe.” Wally took Skye’s hand, and they glided into the rink. “Guess you better come up with a good reason to talk to Hugo tomorrow, because it’s a sure thing I wouldn’t get anywhere questioning him. He’d just call his daddy and complain about police harassment.”
CHAPTER 18
The Invisible Man
It was already nine thirty Thursday morning when Skye and Caroline Greer, the elementary school principal, walked into the main office. The Pupil Personnel Service meeting had gone more than an hour longer than usual because twin six-year-old boys with special needs had moved into the district the day before, and the staff had to hurry to prepare for their intake conferences.
Caroline and Skye were engrossed in discussing the complicated case when Fern Otte, the school secretary, thrust Skye aside and screeched, “Arnold Underwood is gone!”
“When was he last seen?” Caroline, a tiny woman with a cloud of white hair, was known for her unruffled demeanor and ability to keep her staff calm.
“When his class went to gym at eight forty.” Fern wrung her hands. She was extremely petite, and her affinity for brown clothing made her look like a wren. True to form, today she wore a taupe sweater and pants.
“PE class is only half an hour.” Caroline frowned. “Why didn’t you come and get me when his teacher first reported him missing?”