“So? What’s the rush? The grandchildren won’t get anything anyway. Mom says everything’s in a trust.” Skye looked puzzled.
“Well, maybe your folks don’t need the money, but ours do.” Ginger walked over and leaned on the van.
“Shut up!” Gillian yelled. “Are you stupid? Don’t tell her anything.”
Ginger scowled. “Then we’re back to square one. Why are you so sure Grandma was murdered?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Skye said. “Chief Boyd has asked me not to discuss it.”
“Fine, then on your long walk home you just think about where your loyalties should lie.” Gillian hopped into the front seat of the TranSport.
Ginger climbed into the driver’s seat. Skye hurried to the side panel and was just in time to hear the lock click into place. The vehicle pulled out in a cloud of dust, leaving Skye with her hand still reaching for the handle.
Sighing, she glanced at her canvas sandals. They were already stained from the morning’s excursion through the wilds of Grandma’s backyard and their two-inch wedge heels were not made for hiking.
Skye peered inside her purse for anything that might be helpful, but since she was carrying only a small shoulder bag there was nothing useful. Her gaze swept the fields. Not a soul in sight. She was going to have to walk.
At the end of the driveway she turned onto the main road. Sweat poured from her face as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Boy, I thought I was in better shape than this. This is pathetic. I bet I haven’t even walked a mile in half an hour.
Her breathing was so loud she didn’t hear the car until it pulled up beside her. The black Mustang convertible gleamed in the sunlight. Trixie Frayne sat in the driver’s seat. “What happened? Need a ride?”
“You’re a lifesaver. I don’t think I could have taken another step.” Skye slid gingerly into the passenger side.
As Skye sagged against the seat, she explained to Trixie about her grandmother’s death and what had happened with the twins.
Trixie whistled. “Those cousins of yours are wild. Remember how they used to trade clothes and try to trick your grandmother when she babysat for them?”
“Yes, they tried that on their teachers too, but Grandma fixed their wagon. After they traded identities one too many times, she grabbed them both and put a big red Magic Marker dot on Gillian’s forehead and a matching black circle on Ginger.” Skye smirked. “It took a week for those marks to wear off. Everybody and his uncle asked them what had happened. By the end, even I felt kind of sorry for them.”
Trixie giggled. “With the way they used to torment you whenever your mothers made the three of you play together, I’m surprised you’d feel any sympathy toward those two.”
“One of my many character flaws,” Skye joked.
“What are you going to do about them kidnapping you?”
“Nothing. What can I do, tell their mommy?” Skye looked disgusted.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But maybe sometime, someplace you’ll get a chance to get even, and I’d love to be there.” Trixie’s grin was wicked. “Anyway, where can I take you? Home?”
“No, my car’s at school. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.” Skye examined the blister on her heel.
“Nothing. I was just taking a ride.” Trixie put the Mustang in gear.
“This is a beautiful vehicle. I can see why you’d like driving around.” Skye ran an admiring hand over the upholstery.
“I bought it for my thirtieth birthday. Owen wanted me to get a minivan.”
Both women looked at each other and said, “Men.”
The twins’ little detour had cost Skye a lot of time. It was nearly six o’clock when she turned off the Buick’s ignition and exited the car in front of her cottage. She immediately noticed something was wrong.
Broken glass littered the area around the house. The foyer and kitchen windows were shattered. Circling the house, Skye saw there was not one intact pane left on the building. She started inside, but stopped before crossing the threshold. Seizing Bingo, who had come to the door to greet her, she backed toward her car, checked the backseat for intruders, and slid inside.
After locking the doors, she sat for a moment to catch her breath. Skye was surprised to find herself shaking. Suddenly, the privacy she valued in her home’s secluded location seemed like a threatening isolation. She backed the Buick onto the road and headed toward the police station.
Skye knew her mother wasn’t working and she figured that Chief Boyd would have already left for the day, so she wasn’t sure if she’d know anyone on duty.
The dispatcher was a stranger to her. Skye couldn’t believe the woman was above the twenty-one years of age required for the job. Her name tag read “Crystal.”
Taking a deep breath and smoothing her hair, Skye spoke across the counter. “Hello, my name is Skye Denison and I need to report some vandalism to my home.”
Crystal wrinkled her forehead “Like, okay, ma’am, but the, uhm, officer is out patrolling.”
“Could you radio for him to come in? I’ll wait.” Skye frowned. Ma’am? Do I look like a ma’am? How old does she think I am? I’ll never go to bed without putting on my face lotion again.
“Uhm, well, okay, but it could be a while.” Crystal sat down in front of her console and grimaced.
Skye took a seat in the cracked vinyl bench provided for those who had business with the police.
Only a few minutes had gone by and she was rummaging in her purse for something to eat, having missed lunch and not yet had dinner, when the door was flung open.
Officer Quirk marched past her and leaned across the counter. “Crystal, how many times have you been told not to mention names on the radio?”
Crystal chewed on a nail. “Sorry, I forgot.” Her face darkened. “Like, there are too many rules and things to remember. This is way harder than my last job.”
Quirk seemed to see Skye for the first time. “Her last job was of the fast-food variety,” he said. “She told us it was too much pressure.”
Skye followed Quirk to the back of the station into a room with a table and chairs. “So why did she get hired here? She’s obviously a few fries short of a Happy Meal.”
Quirk grabbed a pen and a clipboard with a pad of forms attached, then sat at the table. “Did you catch her full name?”
Sitting across from him, Skye pursed her lips. “No. What is it?”
“Clapp, Crystal Clapp.”
“That’s awful. So she was hired out of pity?” Skye arched a brow.
“No, she was hired out of self-preservation. Eldon Clapp, our beloved mayor, is her father.” Quirk sat back, his leather utility belt squeaking. “Now what can I do for you, Ms. Denison?”
Skye explained about the windows and reminded him that earlier in the week her tires had been slashed.
“Sounds like you’ve got an enemy. Can you think of anyone who would want to harass you?” Quirk didn’t look up from the form he was filling out.
Her mind flew to the Yoders, Hap Doozier, and the Underwoods before flitting briefly to the twins and her Uncle Dante. She took a deep breath. “Would you like the list alphabetically or divided by family versus workplace?”
CHAPTER 8
Ladybug, Ladybug, Fly Away Home
After finishing with Quirk, Skye called her insurance agent, a cousin on her father’s side. “Kevin, this is Skye. How’re you doing?”
“Fine, fine. Sorry to hear about your grandma.”
“Thanks.” Skye took a deep, calming breath. It was difficult to talk about her. “I’ll really miss her.”