Murder of a Creped Suzette

Jenny Vanda hadn’t been able to answer any more of Skye’s questions, but she promised to call her if she thought of anything. Next on Skye’s agenda was a stop at the supermarket. After picking up cold cuts, macaroni salad, and more dog food, Skye got into the checkout line.

Ahead of her, paying for his purchases, was the fiddle player from Flint James’s backup band. He looked at Skye, cocked his head as if he should know her, then shrugged and walked away. He appeared to be in his late teens, and Skye certainly hoped Kallista hadn’t told Rex that this boy was her lover.

The pear-shaped young man sacking her purchases peered at each package as he deposited it in the bag. When he handed her the sack, he said, “You know, all this processed food isn’t good for either you or your dog.” He stroked his barely-there goatee. “You really should be eating organic.”

“Thanks for your concern.” Geesh! Since when had the bag boy become a nutritionist?

As Skye drove home, she tried to figure out the identity of the mysterious other woman in Quentin Neal’s life. Still thinking about Jenny Vanda’s information, Skye parked the Bel Air in the garage, left Toby in the car, and carried her groceries into the house.

She fussed over Bingo until he’d had enough affection, then fed him his Fancy Feast. Only then did she return to the Chevy to get Toby and bring him inside. Skye still didn’t quite trust that he and Bingo would coexist peacefully, but he trotted over to his dish, which she quickly filled with Canine Cuisine, and he chowed down without giving the feline a second glance.

While the animals were occupied with their dinners, Skye changed out of her work clothes. She had already put on a pair of jeans and was pulling an emerald green sweatshirt over her head when she heard the muffled sound of the doorbell ringing.

It was going on seven thirty, around the time Wally had said to expect him. Had he forgotten his key? That wasn’t like him at all.

Curious as to who could be dropping in on a Friday night, she ran down the stairs, pushed aside the curtain covering the front window, and caught her breath. What was Darleen Boyd doing on her front porch?

There was no love lost between Skye and Wally’s ex-wife, so when she opened the door, she kept the chain on. “Darleen, what a surprise.”

“I’ll bet.” Darleen was nearly six feet tall and cadav-erously thin. “I need to talk to you, woman to woman. Can I come in?”

Skye hesitated. It was probably best to exercise a certain amount of caution. “I’m sort of busy right now. Maybe we could meet for coffee tomorrow morning at the Feed Bag, or the new bookstore in town has a café that serves fabulous baked goods and cappuccinos.”

“Please.” Darleen held out a hand, and Skye could see that her nails were bitten so short they looked raw. “It needs to be tonight.”

Skye couldn’t think of an excuse to turn Darleen away. Wally’s ex-wife might dislike her, but she’d never been violent. “If it’s important—”

“I promise I’ll make this short.” Darleen was shivering uncontrollably, and her baby-doll minidress revealed skeletally thin arms and legs.

“Well . . .” Why wasn’t Darleen wearing a coat? Skye bit her lip. It went against her nature to turn down someone in need, especially such a waiflike creature. Darleen looked as if a stiff wind would blow her away, and October was known for its blustery weather.

“Please, just five minutes.” Darleen’s voice was desperate, but her expression was hard to read. “Really. I’ll be in and out before you know it.”

Instantly, a man who had been standing just out of Skye’s line of sight propelled Darleen over the threshold, crowding in right behind her. He was huge, with bulging biceps and long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. An enormous cross hung from a thick gold chain around his neck.

Darleen stepped aside and Mr. Muscles grabbed Skye so that his forearm rested against her throat. She screamed and tried to wiggle free, kicking back at his shins and clawing at his arm, but the Incredible Hulk seemed impervious to her efforts to free herself.

He swung Skye around so that she was facing the staircase, and ordered over his shoulder, “Dar, don’t just stand there like an idiot. Check out the place and make sure we don’t have company.”

“Uh, sure, Gary. Sorry,” Darleen stuttered, then disappeared up the steps.

Realizing she would not accomplish anything by struggling, Skye decided it was time to use her skills as a psychologist. “If you tell me what you want, I’ll be happy to get it for you—then you can leave. We don’t need all this drama.”

Gary snorted but otherwise remained silent, still holding Skye prisoner. While they waited, she tried to think of an escape plan. Just before the creep had grabbed her, Skye had noticed that neither Darleen nor her boyfriend had closed the front door. If she could get loose, she could make a run for it. But where would she go?

While Darleen was searching the second floor, Skye tried to think of a place to hide if she managed to free herself from Gary’s chokehold. Too bad it wasn’t as warm as the previous week; she could have headed for the river and swum away from her captors.

Darleen’s whiny voice broke into Skye’s thoughts. She scuttled down the staircase, complaining, “You should see the fancy bathroom this bitch has. No wonder Wally refuses to give me the money I deserve. He’s spending it all on her.”

“Hey.” Skye couldn’t let that pass. “I paid for that myself by working for my cousin. And believe me, that job was no piece of wedding cake.”

“Yeah. Right.” Gary made a scornful noise. “Now, ladies, if that’s settled, was anyone up there? Or did you spend all your time in the bathroom, Dar?”

“Then check the rest of the house.” Gary’s voice took on an impatient edge, and as Darleen ran toward the kitchen, he sneered, “What a dimwit.”

“She has a college degree, so she can’t be too dumb,” Skye retorted. She hated it when men talked badly about their girlfriends.

“That was before the coke and the weed and the pills.” Gary snickered. “That’s why I don’t take none of that shit. Did you see that commercial on TV with the egg? The one that says, ‘This is your brain on drugs’?”

“Yes.” Skye heard Toby barking. When he abruptly quieted, she flinched. What if Darleen had hurt the little dog? She knew Bingo would be okay. The cat would have fled at the first sign of an intruder. “Glad to see the public service announcement made an impression.”

“I like to be in control,” Gary confided. “If you’re high, you’re not in control.”

“Very true.” Since he was chatting, Skye tried once more to talk her way out of the situation. “I noticed your cross. Do you really think God would approve of what you’re doing to me?”

“Probably not.” Gary gave a mocking laugh. “See, I figure it like this—God may be my copilot, but the devil makes a better bombardier.”

Cripes! What was it about her that attracted all the psychos? So much for her counseling skills. Maybe if she could find out what the goon wanted, she could hand it over and get him out of there. “If you’re looking for cash or valuables, you picked the wrong person to rob.”

“You’re the valuable, sweet cheeks.” Gary chuckled at his own wit. “Your man may not be willing to pay to get that letter you two want, but from what Dar says, and from what I’ve seen this week while I was watching you guys, he’ll hand over some serious cash to get you back in one piece. That dude is so damn gaga over you he’d probably even take a bullet to save you.”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.” Wally’s voice came from behind the thug’s back. “Now take your hands off my fiancé, or I’ll shoot.”

Skye turned her head as much as she could, and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Wally had his gun pressed to the creep’s temple.

Gary howled a string of profanities, and Wally snarled, “Don’t give me an excuse to pull this trigger.” His .38 “accidently” slipped, clipping the creep on the side of the head. “I may not have a license to kill, but I do have a learner’s permit.”

“I can snap her neck in a second,” Gary threatened, tightening his grip on Skye.

“Not before I put a bullet in that pea-size brain of yours.” Wally’s voice was menacing. “You have until the count of three. And think about this—I’d love to save the county the cost of your trial. One.”

Gary swore and released Skye. As soon as she was free, she darted behind Wally.

A second later Darleen rushed into the foyer holding her arm, which was dripping blood. “Look what that little mutt did to me when I tried to put him outside.” She stumbled to a stop, her eyes bulging. “What the f—?”

“Both of you lie down, face to the floor, hands behind your back,” Wally commanded as he waved Darleen over to her boyfriend.

“What did you do to Toby?” Skye tried to rush past Wally, but he grabbed her shoulder.

“I opened the back door and he ran out.” Darleen’s tone was triumphant as she and Gary obeyed Wally’s orders. “I hope he gets run over by a car or eaten by a coyote.”

Skye tried to get past Wally again, but he said, “We’ll deal with that later. Toby’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s waiting on the step. Okay?”

“Here. Take my gun and keep it pointed at the guy’s head.” Wally handed her the pistol and snatched the handcuffs from his gun belt.

Once he had patted down the prone man for weapons and cuffed him, he turned to Darleen and patted her down as well, then used a white plastic strip to fasten her hands. Stepping away from the trussed couple, Wally took the .38 back from Skye and used his radio to call for backup.

Only then did he address Darleen. “Here’s the deal. Your boyfriend is going away for a long, long time. Assaulting a police employee is a felony. You, on the other hand, can do some good for yourself.”

“How?” Darleen gave Wally a calculating look. “Do I have to testify against Gary?”

The goon protested, but Wally pointed his gun at the guy’s knee and said, “If you make another sound, you’ll be limping the rest of your life.” He turned his attention back to Darleen. “Yes. You’ll need to testify, and you’ll also need to write that letter I requested—the truthful version, not the lies you threatened to write.”

“Not without the money you owe me.” Darleen’s skin was pasty and she had dark circles under her eyes. “I need it. I’m not well.”

“I’m sick.” Darleen’s face had turned an unhealthy shade of red. “Isn’t that enough?”

Skye noticed Wally’s expression soften, so she quickly said, “Her boyfriend mentioned she’s been using cocaine, marijuana, and some form of pills.”

“You bitch!” Darleen screamed, tears running down her cheeks. “You’ve got my husband—isn’t that enough? His father’s a fricking millionaire. All I want is what’s rightfully mine. What I would have gotten if I hadn’t been so damn naive and signed that prenup.”

“Your ex-husband,” Skye reminded her. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, but we can’t give you money to buy drugs.”

“On the other hand,” Wally said, “if you write a letter telling what really happened in our marriage, not the false account you tried to use to blackmail me, I will pay for you to go to rehab and I won’t charge you as an accomplice.”

“You win,” Darleen bleated, laying her head down on the floor. “You always win.”

After Darleen and her boyfriend were picked up by Sergeant Quirk and taken to the Scumble River jail, Skye rescued Toby, who was indeed waiting on the back step. Then she and Wally took their food to the sunroom and ate their long-delayed supper. Toby was sitting at Skye’s feet and Bingo at Wally’s. Both animals were on red alert, watching for any scraps that might fall.

“How did you know I was in trouble?” Skye asked. “Was it the strange car in my driveway?”

“There’s no vehicle out there.” Wally shook his head. “They must have hiked in. My officers found a stolen SUV parked a few feet down the road.” He smiled at her. “It was the open door that tipped me off. You’re a creature of habit and you always keep it shut.”

“Oh.” Skye pursed her lips. She was happy Wally had rescued her, but she hated being so predictable. Tomorrow she would definitely come up with a plan to be spontaneous. “Is it really a felony to assault a police employee?”

“A police officer, yes, but your position is unique, so I’m not sure.” Wally shrugged. “Anyway, I have no problem lying to the bad guys if it means putting them behind bars or saving you from harm.”

“Thank you.” Skye smiled. “I’d do the same for you, even though I’m not a great liar.”

“I know. You’re better at avoiding the truth.” Wally took the last bite of his sandwich, swallowed, then asked, “Does drug rehab really work?”

“What do you think Darleen’s chances are?” Furrows appeared in Wally’s forehead.

“Not great.” Skye slumped back in her seat. “But it’s probably her only hope.”

“Yeah. I guess I owe her that much.” Wally put his arm around Skye. “Even if she was the one to leave me for another man, in reality I was never a good husband because I couldn’t fully love her. My heart always belonged to you and I think she sensed that.”

“You really are a special kind of guy—to not only admit you might have been at fault, but to recognize it in the first place. That’s why I love you so much.” Although Skye felt a warm glow at Wally’s words, she felt more sympathy for Darleen than she ever had before. Knowing you were second best had to be a horrible way to live your married life. “But why me?”

“Darlin’”—Wally tilted her chin up—“that’s hard to put into words.”

“I know you’re the silent cowboy type,” Skye teased him, “but try.”

“Okay.” Wally grinned. “You remind me of a good wine. Full bodied with just the right amount of nuttiness.”

“Very funny.” Skye whacked his biceps, then sobered. “You know, until tonight, it never dawned on me that as the fiancée or wife of a potentially wealthy man, I could be a target.” Shuddering, she nestled closer. “If I’m ever kidnapped, I don’t want you to pay the ransom.”

“I appreciate that.” Wally stroked her hair. “And even though the odds aren’t in favor of a kidnap victim, I would still have to try. You are my whole world and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to save you.”

Some moments later, Skye was almost asleep when she remembered what she had found out. “I have some info about Suzette’s father. He was having an affair.” Skye explained what she’d learned from Jenny Vanda, finishing with, “So, do you think the mystery woman killed Paulette?”

Skye nodded. “I just remembered. Hank Vanda mentioned a drug house in his neighborhood.”

“I’ll put Quirk on that in the morning.” Wally grabbed the bottle of Sam Adams from the coffee table. “Too bad Mrs. Vanda didn’t know the name of Neal’s lover.” He took a slug of beer, then mused, “I wonder how many sophisticated-looking blondes driving Cadillacs were around here back in 1978.”