Murder of a Pink Elephant (7 page)

“I am
not
involved with her that way.”

“So, you haven’t slept with her?”

“I didn’t say that.” Vince sagged back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Okay, here’s the whole story. You’re right. Heather is a groupie. She’s been following us since we first started playing. She made it clear she wanted to do the
whole band, and none of us was saying no.” Vince snuck a quick peek at Skye.

Skye’s disgust was written clearly all over her face. “So you all took a turn with her.”

Vince nodded. “But then she wanted more.”

“What a surprise.”

“Yeah. Well.” He had the grace to look sheepish. “Anyway, it turns out what she really wanted was to sing with the band.”

“And?”

“We didn’t think that would be a good idea, considering everything.”

Skye shook her head, astounded at his logic. “So, what were you and Logan fighting about?”

“We all agreed to stop … uh, you know … paying attention to her, and the rest of us have, but Logan keeps giving in and uh … you know … uh …”

“Boinking her?”

“Yeah.” Vince scratched his chin. “She’s sort of like a stray cat. If you keep feeding it, it will never go away.”

“It’s probably because Logan’s married.”

Vince looked confused at the non sequitur. “Huh?”

“Heather is probably threatening to tell Logan’s wife if he doesn’t keep on with the relationship.”

“Maybe. But I think his wife knows he fools around.” Vince shrugged. “Anyway that’s not the band’s problem. Our problem is getting rid of Heather.”

“Is she any good?” Skye saw the flabbergasted look on Vince’s face and hurried to clarify her question. “I mean as a singer. Does she have a good voice?”

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, at one time Rod, Finn, and I thought maybe we should let her sing with us, but Logan had a fit when we suggested it.”

“Why?”

“Said he was the star of this band, and no girl singer was going to take his place.”

“What a lovely man.”

Vince slowly got up from the chair and tested his head by moving it from side to side. “He’s a little self-centered, but you gotta be, in this business.”

“I suppose.” It was Skye’s turn to shrug. “You’d think that if that were the case, he’d have more at stake in getting her to quit following the band and thus would stop having sex with her.”

“That’s what I was trying to explain to him when you walked in.”

“Really? Does he speak sign language? Because all I saw was your fist moving, not your lips.” Skye turned her back on her brother and walked away. She had spent enough time on the groupie problem; she had a Valentine’s Dance to chaperone.

Once she reached the front of the stage, she took a moment to look around the gym before climbing down the steps. The kids were sitting and standing in groups talking, drinking punch, and eating cookies. No one seemed to have noticed anything wrong.

Skye joined Trixie at a table in the rear and explained what had just happened. She concluded with, “Can you believe how stupid four grown men can be? You would think in this day and age, with all the diseases and everything, they’d be more careful about sex.”

Trixie smirked. “But that’s just it. When they get excited, they can’t think. There’s only so much blood in the human body, and when it all surges below their waist, there isn’t enough left to run their brains.”

Skye laughed until she noticed the band mounting the stage. “Phew. I was afraid they weren’t going to come back and play.”

“What would we have done?”

“I guess we’d have had to lip sync to
South Pacific
,” Skye deadpanned. “It’s the only musical I know all the words to, and I have a tape in my office.”

Trixie snorted.

Skye studied the musicians. Except for Logan’s swollen lip and a bruise on Vince’s cheek, no one would ever guess they’d been fighting. She sagged in her seat. At least the dance was half over. Surely nothing else could go wrong.

  
CHAPTER 6
  

T
en after nine. The band was playing some long instrumental piece with a lot of drum solos, and Skye’s head was throbbing in time with the beat. She wondered if her eardrums had been punctured. Now she understood why the speech therapist refused to chaperone dances. She didn’t want to risk damaging her hearing.

Nathan Turner’s grandmother had picked him up fifteen minutes ago. The woman had seemed upset over his being sent home but never questioned why he was wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt in the middle of February. As Skye’s mother would say, Grandma Turner was clearly a cucumber slice short of a salad.

After Nathan’s departure, Charlie had dragged a chair out into the hallway, stating that he would chaperone the rest of the dance from there because he couldn’t stand any more of the loud music.

Ace Cramer and a female chaperone were doing a sweep of the bathrooms, looking for kids who were smoking, sick, or using one of the stalls as a private bar.

Trixie had volunteered for make-out patrol—inspecting the gym’s darker nooks and crannies. All they needed was one of the girls to have a baby nine months after the dance
and claim the conception site was somewhere in the high school.

Skye checked her watch. Wasn’t it time for the band to take a break? She looked longingly at the door. Could she step outside for a second, just until her head stopped vibrating? As she contemplated her escape, a commotion near the stage drew her attention.

What now?
Skye was halfway across the dance floor when she heard a shriek. A quarter second later her brain had translated the shriek into a single word—FIRE! Simultaneously the fire alarm sounded.

There was a stunned moment, as if someone had hit the pause button on a VCR, then the crowd started to scream and run toward the front exit. Skye stood her ground, trying to direct the teens toward the side emergency exits—there were two along the left wall and one on the right. There was no need for the kids to go all the way to the front to get out.

Skye was able to grab Bitsy Kessler and a couple of other girls and thrust them out the side exits, but as she tried to herd others out that way, it became more and more difficult for her to remain upright against the surging mob. It took her less than a heartbeat to decide what to do. She had to get to the rear of the gym and make sure no one back in that area was injured and unable to escape.

Skye pushed and shoved her way forward. As she got closer, her eyes began to tear, and the acrid odor of smoke made her cough. It seemed to be billowing in huge clouds from the storage area under the stage.

The stage was set into the center of the back gym wall and was accessible by center stairs. The door to the storage area under the stage was a little to the left of those steps and that was where the smoke was coming from.

As Skye watched, a line of fire materialized from beneath the storage area door, raced to the side, and cut off the area to the right. She rushed forward only to be driven back by
the heat. She didn’t see anyone on the dance floor, but when the smoke cleared for a moment she spotted Vince and Finn up on the stage. Vince was gathering his drums and Finn had his keyboard under one arm and was holding a bass guitar in the other. Rod and Logan were nowhere to be seen.

Skye hurried over to the left of the stage and yelled, “Leave your instruments. You have to get out now.”

Neither musician paid her any attention.

How could she get to them? Flames blocked the center steps. She looked around wildly and spotted a side door that opened into a concrete stairwell leading to the backstage area. Skye raced over, flew up the inner steps, and onto the stage. Grabbing Finn by one arm and Vince by the other, she tried to drag them toward the stairs, shouting, “The fire’s spreading; you have to get out now!”

Vince shoved a drum at Skye, who took it automatically; he then took a drum in each arm and along with Finn followed her down the steps. Both men were coughing, and the smoke had thickened so much she could no longer see in front of her. She paused to get her bearings and try to remember where the fire exits were.

Picturing the gym layout in her mind, Skye led Vince and Finn to the right and using the wall, felt her way to the door. She used her body to push the emergency bar and the door swung open. The three of them stumbled outside.

The fire department was already on the scene. Flashing lights, sirens, and excited voices filled the frigid night air. A firefighter came up to them and demanded, “Did you see anyone else inside?”

“No.” She set down the drum she had been clutching and pushed hair from her eyes. “The kids all ran toward the front as soon as someone started screaming ‘fire.”’ She was interrupted by a bout of coughing, then asked anxiously, “Didn’t everyone get out?”

The man shrugged and stepped aside for the EMT.

Skye called after him, “Is anyone making a list of the kids who are safe? Parents will start coming here soon.”

He shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

While the EMT examined Finn, Skye asked Vince, “What happened to Logan and Rod?”

Vince had commandeered a couple of blankets and was wrapping his drums in them, but he spoke over his shoulder. “Logan wasn’t on stage when the girl yelled ‘fire.’ Rod grabbed his guitar and took off down the right side steps as soon as the alarm went off.”

Then they were probably safe. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine. How about you?”

“Fine.” Skye hugged him. “But I have to go see about the kids and start making a list so we know who’s accounted for.” She looked at the havoc around her and shuddered. Kids were scattered everywhere, many wearing oxygen masks and lying on gurneys. What if everyone hadn’t made it out of the building?

No, she couldn’t let herself start thinking that way. The students would need her to be calm. “Can you get to a phone and call Mom, Dad, and Simon, and let them know we’re okay?”

“Sure.”

She needed to find Charlie and Trixie and Justin and Frannie and … her mind overloaded. So many. Skye heard herself moan and realized she was dangerously near a total breakdown. She bit the inside of her cheek until it bled. The coppery taste shocked her back into focus. She didn’t have the luxury of giving in to her feelings. She had things to do, but what first?

She needed paper and a pen. Her small evening bag, its strap draped across her chest, contained only a comb, lipstick, keys, a few tissues, and her wallet.

Her car. She ran across the lot to the front entrance. On
her way she spotted the police chief, Wally Boyd, but didn’t slow down. When she reached the Bel Air, she unlocked the door and grabbed a pad and pen from the glove compartment, then went around to the trunk and exchanged her dress shoes for the boots she kept there for emergencies. Now she was ready to start making a list of those present.

Skye started toward a group of teens sitting on the front steps, shivering in the cold. People hadn’t been able to grab their coats before getting out. She scanned the area for another adult and spotted one of the chaperones, who appeared to be wandering around in a daze.

Skye yelled, “Over here.”

The woman looked at Skye without seeming to see her. Skye sprinted over and took her arm. “The kids need your help.” She tugged the teacher toward the front steps. “Take these kids and any others you can round up over to the junior high.” Scumble River Junior High School was located just across the athletic field from the high school.

“How will I get in?” The woman’s voice quavered.

Skye reached into her purse and pulled a key from the ring. “Here. This opens the front door. Take the kids into the office and have them start calling their parents.”

As a backup, Skye took their names, parents’ names, and phone numbers, too. A lot of parents had police scanners and would already be on their way to the school.

Skye found another bunch of students sitting on the hoods and trunks of the parked cars, Justin and Bitsy among them. “Have any of you seen Frannie Ryan?” Skye asked.

They all shook their head. Justin, a sheepish look on his face, offered, “I think I saw her on the other side of the building when we first got out, but then we got separated.”

Skye noticed that the boy had dropped Bitsy’s hand as soon as she asked about Frannie and was now swallowing hard and fighting back tears. “Thanks. I’ll keep an eye out for her and send her over here if I see her.”

Bitsy tried to retake Justin’s hand, but he pulled out of her reach and said, “I’ll come with you.” Skye started to shake her head, but he coaxed, “It’ll be faster with two of us.”

“Okay.” Skye nodded. “Show me where you saw Frannie last.”

Justin gestured with his thumb. “This way.”

As they walked away, she caught sight of Simon getting out of his Lexus. She waved and yelled, “I’m fine. Vince is fine. We’re looking for Frannie. Talk to you later.”

She and Justin continued to make their way to the edge of the parking lot and onto the snow-covered ground. They crossed to the opposite side of the gym, where the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms and indoor swimming pool were located.

Skye was extremely familiar with this area, since she used the pool nearly every morning to do laps. There were only two ways out on this side. One was an emergency exit and the other was through the swimming pool enclosure. The only way into the pool area was through the locker rooms.

Justin cleared his throat and pointed to the pool exit. “There. I’m pretty sure I saw Frannie right here when we came out the emergency door.”

Skye scanned the vicinity. Except for a few bare trees, there was nothing but snow-covered ground. If she had fallen or was lying unconscious, they would see her.

Where could Frannie be? Surely if Justin had seen her outside the gym, she was okay. Skye turned to him. “She’s not here, so she must be back where we came from.”

As they stepped around the corner, Skye heard Charlie’s booming baritone. He was standing next to his Cadillac, yelling orders that no one was listening to. Cars were screeching into the lot, and parents were shouting and crying for their kids.