Murder of a Creped Suzette

Since Skye had persuaded the superintendant to let her skip the district’s Teacher Institute meetings, she had Monday off. Few if any of the institute’s programs would have any relevance for her, and in exchange she would attend the Illinois School Psychologists Association’s conference in January, where she could earn the continuing-education credits she needed to renew her certificate.

Celebrating having the day to herself, Skye slept until ten; then, after feeding Bingo—Toby was still with Simon—she decided to treat herself to an early lunch and a good book.

As Skye drove toward McDonald’s, traffic was heavier than usual on Water Street. With the kids out of school, Scumble River’s main drag was bustling. While she was stopped to wait for a gaggle of pedestrians to cross the street—including all five members of Flint James’s backup band—she scanned the parking spaces along the road. Ever since Suzette’s murder, she’d been looking for the black truck she’d seen the singer getting out of at the park.

Nothing on the left side. On the right, red Jeep, green Jag, and blue Avalanche by the dry cleaner. Black pickup in front of Stybr’s Florist. Yel—

Skye’s gaze swung back to the truck. Now that she saw it, she remembered the unusual tow-hitch cover and the metallic bumper sticker. That was the pickup Suzette had gotten out of Saturday night before the concert ! Holy moly! How could she have forgotten those details? If she hadn’t been an idiot, Owen would have never been a suspect.

Abruptly, Skye spun the Bel Air’s steering wheel to the right and pulled in behind the truck. Since the florist was bracketed by empty buildings, the driver was probably in the flower shop. Jumping out of her car, she ran across the sidewalk and pushed open the door.

Cool carnation-scented air washed over her face, and Skye took a minute to look around. Only one customer was present, a man in his early thirties wearing jeans and a Pink Floyd T-shirt. She tilted her head. It was Rod Yager. She knew him from his brief stint as a guitarist in her brother’s rock band.

After assuring the clerk she didn’t need any help, Skye turned to the musician and said, “Hi, Rod. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“He’s doing great.” Skye tugged at Rod’s sleeve, pulling him away from the counter. “He and Loretta are house hunting.”

“I heard he got married. That was sure a shocker.” Rod shook his head. “I would have sworn he’d be on the prowl until the day he died.”

“Yep. People are full of surprises.” Skye took a breath, then said, “Speaking of surprises, did you know Suzette Neal?”

“Sort of.” He transferred the bouquet of daisies and mums he was holding to his left hand and hitched up his pants. “I met her when I auditioned for Mr. Taylor.”

“You were with her just before the concert last Saturday night, weren’t you? Did you tell her about my sleuthing?”

“Yeah. She asked me for a ride to Joliet so she could do some shopping at the mall.” Rod rubbed the back of his neck. “But the funny thing was she didn’t buy anything. Just talked to an old guy who she said lived next door to her when she was a baby.”

“Did she mention this man’s name or where he lives now?” Skye wondered if Suzette had found out anything from her chat.

“No, but he works at the bookstore in the mall.” Rod was looking at Skye funny. “If you’re thinking I had anything to do with Suzette’s murder, I can prove I didn’t. I left for a gig on a cruise ship the next day, and I just got back in town this morning. I only found out she was killed a couple of hours ago when I saw it in the newspaper.”

“I see.” That explained why neither the cops nor Skye had spotted his truck around town the past week. “The police will probably want to talk to you and verify your alibi.”

“Yes—No. One more thing.” Skye thought of what the singer had said that night when she had finally shown up for the concert. “Do you know why Suzette would lie to her boss about where she’d been and who she was with?”

“Well . . .” Rod looked distinctly uncomfortable. “She did mention that the guy she worked for was really possessive of her, so it was better if he thought we were cousins.”

“She said he was always hitting on her.” Rod sounded angry. “I told her she had talent, and she didn’t have to put up with that kind of shit to be a star. She said it had been okay until recently, because she’d made it clear she’d never sleep with him. But lately he’d been more and more persistent, and just recently he’d started claiming he loved her. She was a little worried about that.”

“I gotta go.” Rod glanced at his watch again. “It’s my mom’s birthday and I’m taking her to lunch.”

Skye got her lunch to go at McDonald’s, added a combo for Wally, then drove to the police station. The reporters hadn’t come back, but the PD was full of activity, so she used her key to let herself in through the garage entrance. As she walked down the narrow corridor, she saw Flint James in the interrogation-coffee room.

Wally was standing in the room’s open doorway, and Skye heard him say to Flint, “I’ll be back when your attorney gets here.”

“The DNA results came in an hour ago. The semen the ME found in Suzette belonged to Flint James.”

“Why did he agree to be swabbed if he was guilty?” Skye answered herself: “Either he didn’t think we could recover enough evidence because she was crushed, or he had consensual sex with her and didn’t kill her.”

“Those are both good ideas, and I’d be asking James about them if he hadn’t lawyered up as soon as we arrested him.”

“I just spoke with the Nashville police and asked them to see if they can find a witness who saw James entering or leaving Suzette’s apartment there.”

“So you’re free for a while?” Skye brightened. “That means you have time for lunch, right?” She held out the McDonald’s bag.

Before they reached the stairs, shouting erupted from the front of the station. A nanosecond later, Thea, the daytime dispatcher, yelled, “Chief, you’d best get in here—fast !”

Wally rushed toward the reception area with Skye on his heels. As they reached the lobby, they found Rex and Kallista Taylor standing nose to nose. Kallista had her hands on her hips and Rex’s face was so red, Skye worried he was about to have a stroke.

“All you care about is your precious theater!” Kallista screeched. “Flint’s being framed and all you’re worried about is the media impact.”

“ ’Cause God made me beautiful so you’d be attracted to me. And He made me stupid so I’d be attracted to you.”

“Folks, let’s all calm down.” Wally stepped between the arguing couple. “We’ll go up to my office and discuss this quietly.”

“This has nothing to do with her.” Rex pointed to his wife. “I don’t know why she insisted on coming.”

“We’ll get everything figured out, Mr. Taylor.” Skye took Rex’s elbow and fluttered her lashes while gently pulling him after her. “Just come with me.”

Once they were all seated in Wally’s office, Rex said, “I demand to know why in the hell you arrested Flint James.”

“That’s not possible,” Rex stated. “Your lab made some sort of mistake. It must have mixed up Flint’s sample with one of the boys in the band.”

Skye, sitting slightly behind and to the side of the couple, saw Kallista stiffen and turn pale. Aha! Skye replayed the conversation she had overheard between Kallista and Flint James Thursday night. Kallista had said she had thrown her husband off the scent of their affair by letting him think she was messing around with one of the musicians.

As Wally reassured Rex that the DNA samples had not been mixed up, Skye’s mind raced. She needed to talk to Wally while Rex, Kallista, and Flint were all in the police station. But how could she get him alone without raising anyone’s suspicions?

She eased the legal pad from her tote and wrote in large letters: TALK/HALLWAY!!! When Wally glanced her way, she held up the tablet. He nodded slightly and she stuffed it back into her bag.

Wally waited for a lull, then made a show of looking at his watch. “Sorry, folks. Ms. Denison and I have to take a conference call. Please excuse us. It won’t take more than five minutes.”

As soon as they were out of the office and the door was shut, Wally said, “Rex Taylor is hiding something.”

Skye explained what Rod had told her, then reminded Wally of what Kallista had said to Flint about Rex’s temper and diverting her husband’s suspicions toward a member of the band. She concluded with, “So I wonder if somehow Rex is behind all of this. He still doesn’t have an alibi.”

“Even though Taylor’s DNA wasn’t the one found inside Suzette, I agree something doesn’t smell right about James as the murderer. I suppose he could have been two-timing Kallista and killed Suzette to keep her quiet. Still, the whole thing feels wrong.” Wally shook his head. “But we don’t have anything on Taylor beyond a rumor of a bad temper and the fact that he flirts with women. Any ideas?”

“Divide and conquer.” Skye leaned forward and said quietly, “Let me take Kallista and make sure she gets to talk to Flint. I think she knows more than she’s saying.”

“Okay.” Wally nodded. “We might as well give it a try. But remember spousal privilege. She can’t tell you anything her husband said to her in confidence.”

“Right.” He walked back to his office and opened the door. “Mrs. Taylor, could I see you for a moment?”

Skye took the other woman’s arm and said in a sympathetic voice, “I thought you might want a chance to talk to Mr. James alone.”

Kallista hesitated. Her expression held both suspicion and longing. Longing won, and she said, “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

“You’re very welcome.” Skye led her down the steps, unlocked the interrogation room door, and ushered the blonde inside. “I can only give you a few minutes.” Skye adjusted the blinds so that it appeared no one could see in through the interior window, then exited, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Skye stepped to the side, angling her body so she could both peer through the opening in the blinds and hear through the door.

“I didn’t!” Flint protested, trying to embrace Kallista. “Think about it for a minute. We were together that afternoon from two o’clock to nearly four thirty.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kallista giggled. “How could I have forgotten that? First we did it in the RV, then around three or so we went and got some food from Mickey D’s and brought it to your cabin at the motor court.”

“Exactly.” Flint took Kallista in his arms. “Remember how cute you looked with the pickle slice bra and hamburger bun bikini?”

“I have no idea.” Flint kissed her. “The only thing my love juice has been inside lately is a rubber.”

An idea skittered through Skye’s mind, but she needed to think about it. Was what she was considering even possible ?

“I’m sorry you won’t be able to get as much of his money as we originally thought.” Flint wrinkled his brow.

After another minute or so, Skye stepped back into the interrogation room. “Sorry, guys. We need to wrap this up.”

While Skye escorted Kallista back to Wally’s office, she asked the other woman, “Did Flint flush the condom he used last Monday afternoon at the RV?”

“I don’t enjoy intruding in your personal life,” Skye said, hoping to soothe the other woman’s indignation. She was used to teenagers who thought everything done to them was unfair. “But this is important. You want Flint to go free, don’t you?”

“Not with the DNA evidence hanging over his head,” Skye reminded her. “So, about that condom?”

“He didn’t flush it,” Kallista muttered. “The plumbing in the Airstream can’t take stuff like that. He usually just wraps them in toilet paper and tosses them in the trash.”

“Uh-huh.” Kallista nodded. “He worked construction during the summers when he was in college.”

“Oh. Okay.” Skye stopped halfway up the stairs. “Wait. One more question. What do you have on your husband? Why will you still get money from him even after admitting your affair with Flint?”

“Fine.” Kallista tossed back her hair. “Last Monday afternoon, when I got back to the RV, I noticed the bathroom was a mess, with garbage from the wastebasket scattered all over the floor.”

“And I was cleaning it up when Rex got home. He didn’t realize I was there because the bathroom door was shut nearly all the way, but I saw him change clothes from the skin out and bundle what he’d been wearing in a paper grocery sack—we like to recycle, so we don’t use the plastic ones.” Kallista twisted her glossy lips into a thoughtful frown. “Him putting his clothes in the bag seemed weird to me, so I followed him, and I saw him toss the sack into the Dumpster by the bandstand.”

“Nope.” Kallista’s smile was triumphant. “I took it out after he left and hid it in the trunk of my car for safe keeping.”

“That was smart.” Skye guessed that Kallista’s motive was leverage when she sued for divorce. The blonde probably figured she’d get more from Rex through blackmail than if she did the right thing and turned the evidence over to the police. And she’d made no secret of her hatred for Suzette, so she wouldn’t care if Suzette’s killer was ever brought to justice.

Skye cringed at the idea that women still thought they had to hide their intelligence to be popular with men, but she didn’t comment. Instead she asked, “Did you look inside the bag?”

After requesting that the dispatcher keep an eye on Kallista, Skye asked Wally to step out of his office and filled him in on what Kallista had revealed.

“Didn’t she realize she could be arrested if she withheld evidence in a murder investigation?” Wally fumed.

“Anyway,” Skye said, “I think after Rex killed Suzette, but before he ran the steamroller over her, he went back to the RV, retrieved the used condom from the trash can, and somehow inserted the semen into Suzette.”

“And he did that because he didn’t know it was Flint’s semen.” Understanding dawned in Wally’s eyes. “He would never have implicated his star attraction. He thought Kallista was sleeping with one of the musicians.”

“My guess is she rejected him one too many times,” Skye answered. “And remember, Rod told me that Suzette was getting worried because Rex had started to say he loved her.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Skye explained, “under everyone’s hard shell is someone who wants to be loved. Obviously, Kallista and Rex didn’t have that kind of marriage; maybe he thought he could have it with Suzette. And when she rejected not only his sexual advances, but also his love, he couldn’t stand it.”

When Wally arrested Rex an hour later, he protested long and loud, but when the paper bag full of his bloody clothes was produced, he snapped his mouth shut so hard Skye thought she heard a tooth crack.

“I was just trying to kiss her. She jerked away, tripped, and struck the back of her head on the corner of the desk. It must have hit just right, because by the time I got back with the first aid kit she was already dead.”

“A scandal like that would ruin me and the music theater.” Rex looked at Wally as if he were crazy. “Country music fans want wholesome entertainment.”

“I gambled they’d get over that faster than me killing my assistant while trying to fu—make love to her,” Rex explained. “And I figured the steamroller was the only way I could make sure that no trace of me on her body would be discovered.”

“I figured it was a twofer.” Rex shrugged. “I’d seen the used rubbers in the garbage on other occasions, and I thought, what the heck, if there’s one there today, I can use the stuff inside to implicate my wife’s lover and point any interest away from me.” He glowered. “I didn’t realize my dumb bunny of a wife was getting it on with my star. I thought she was shacking up with some nobody from the band.”