Murder of a Small-Town Honey (11 page)

“Let me see if I have a correct picture of what’s been occurring.” Skye jotted a few notes on her pad. “Travis’s parents no doubt are denying that anything took place this summer, while demanding we do something to protect their poor innocent baby boy. Right?”

Lloyd nodded.

“Calls are coming in from the other parents wanting to know why we haven’t expelled this demon from hell.” Skye looked at Lloyd for confirmation.

He nodded once again.

“So—we need to think of something that will satisfy both sides.”

“Precisely. What do you suggest?”

“Has DCFS been called? We have to report any suspicion of abuse or neglect, and it sounds as if Travis may have abused the other children or the Idells may be guilty of neglect by not having provided adequate supervision for Travis. Although, I must admit, I’ve never quite understood what criteria the Department of Children and Family Services uses. Regardless, we are mandated to report.”

“The parents of one of the girls involved called DCFS a couple of days ago. Her mother got suspicious when the girl cried every time she was made to undress. Her parents finally got her to tell them what was wrong. That’s how this all got started. Once the DCFS started interviewing the various kids, everyone in town knew something was up. News around here spreads like a heat rash in summer.” Lloyd’s leg jiggled like a Slinky.

Skye considered their options until Lloyd’s fidgeting drove her to speak. “Okay, I have a recommendation, but it’s going to cost the school some money.”

Lloyd grimaced. “Let’s hear it.”

“We make arrangements to home-teach young Mr. Idell until either the excitement dies down or DCFS makes some kind of move.” Skye persisted before Lloyd could interrupt her. “By providing a home teacher we kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. We satisfy the Idells that we’re protecting Travis from the children who are beating him up, and we appease the other parents by removing him, temporarily, from his alleged victims.”

After a moment of thought, Lloyd got up. “This could work. How long do you think we’ll have to pay for a home teacher?”

“That depends on a lot of things. Such as what DCFS decides to do and on what time schedule. I don’t think I know the Idells. When did they move to Scumble River? Are they fairly affluent?”

“They relocated here about five or six years ago. I’d say they’re comfortable. Both parents work in Chicago. With the ninety-minute commute each way they’re hardly ever home. I think they do something with the stock exchange, and Travis is their only child.”

“One of two things could happen. They may eventually become convinced that Travis did the things he’s accused of and get him some professional help. Or they might remain in denial, decide the whole town is against them, and put Travis in a private school.” Skye underlined something she had written.

“So, how long do you think this will take?” Lloyd bounced from one foot to the other.

It was Skye’s turn to sigh. “This is only a guess, but I’d say a semester would be the longest these circumstances could last without something happening to change the situation.”

Abruptly Lloyd ushered her out the door. “Fine. I’ll check with the superintendent and get back to you if we need another option.”

Finding herself staring at the closed door, she noticed it was oak with a small black nameplate on it: LLOYD STARK, PRINCIPAL.

She thought,
Principal what? Boor?

 

Skye wasn’t able to leave school until after five, having once again missed lunch. If this continued she’d have to find some sort of food she could eat during the five minutes it took to walk from one appointment to the next. The PPS meeting had lasted past three, and before she could get out of the room, the Idells had arrived. She’d spent two hours trying to work through the issues surrounding Travis’s behavior but made little progress.

During a brief break in the conference, she had stolen a few minutes and telephoned her mother to ask if Vince planned on closing the shop for the day. May told Skye that Vince had said he’d be at work the next morning, whether he still had customers or not.

 

Pulling into Great Expectations about five-fifteen, Skye found the parking lot empty.

Vince was sitting on a stool behind the counter drinking a Coke and reading the
Chicago Tribune
when Skye came through the door.

He got up and came around to hug her. “Sis, I didn’t kill her.”

“I know.” Skye fought the lump gathering in the back of her throat. “Let’s sit down.”

They settled once again in the plastic-covered chairs by the shampoo sinks and Skye asked gently, “Did most people show up for their appointments?”

“Yes. I was surprised, but there was just the normal number of no-shows.”

Skye crossed her legs. “Good. Maybe that means the town’s behind you. I suppose they all wanted to ask you questions, though.”

“Oh, yeah, but that’s pretty normal in this business. I told everyone I wasn’t allowed to discuss it.”

“That was a good idea.”

“I was thinking of changing our double date to Friday. Both Mike and Abby said that was okay. Can you make it then?” Trailing his fingers along the basin, Vince avoided looking Skye in the eye.

“Sure, but maybe we should wait until this is all over.”

“No. I want to go out. It will help take my mind off things.” Vince continued to appear fascinated with the sink’s enamel finish.

“When’s your next customer scheduled?”

“Not until six, and that’s the last appointment of the day,” Vince said, relief evident in his voice.

“Then we have time to talk. What did you think of Loretta?”

“She was amazing, but then so were you and Mom. How did you know what to do?”

“I’m not sure, but ever since all this happened I’ve been relying on my memories of old TV shows to tell me how to act. I know I watched a lot of television as a kid, but it must have made a greater impact than I ever realized. Every time I get into a jam lately I’ve done what I’ve seen them do on TV. I think this latest one was
Perry Mason.
” Skye had had little time for television since she’d left Scumble River, so her points of reference were somewhat dated.

“You should’ve seen Mom,” Vince said. “Wally and a couple of his men showed up at my apartment around ten. The news was just coming on. They told me they had a search warrant and were bringing me in for questioning. It took them about forty-five minutes to tear my place apart, then they put me in the back of the squad car and took me to the station. Mom must have gotten to work just a little while before they brought me in, because she wasn’t even sitting down yet. She started crying right away, but that didn’t slow her down at all. She was on the phone to you before they even got me all the way upstairs.”

“Did they have time to ask you anything before Mom stopped you?” Skye posed the question she had been worried about since last night.

“No. Wally was still getting coffee when Mom pushed her way into the room and told me not to say anything.”

“If Mom was with you from the time I talked to her until Loretta appeared, how did Dad get there?”

“Mom used the phone in the interrogation room. Wally was so stunned by her actions I think she could have taken me home before he would have thought to object.” Vince grabbed a magazine from the stand and started pleating its pages.

“Why did they want to question you? What do you have to do with Mrs. Gumtree?”

“It’s a long story.” Vince looked embarrassed.

Skye looked at her watch. “Then you’d better get going.”

“Well, for starters, they found my styling shears in her neck.”

“How can they be sure they were yours?” Skye grabbed the magazine from his hands.

“They had the shop’s name engraved on them. But everybody in town gets their hair cut here. Anyone could have taken them without my noticing.”

“Wonderful.” Skye thought for a moment. “There must be something else.”

“In real life Mrs. Gumtree was Honey Adair. Her agent finally returned from his weekend trip and identified her late yesterday afternoon.”

When Skye looked puzzled, he explained, “I dated Honey in high school, the end of my senior year. Don’t you remember?”

“Now I do. She was really tiny—I was so jealous. The couple of times I was near her I felt like the Incredible Hulk. The name didn’t ring a bell because Mom and Dad only referred to her as ‘That Awful Girl.’ Why didn’t they like her?”

Vince shrugged. “Honey was pretty wild. She was involved with the druggies at school, and everyone said she slept around.”

“Did she? With you, I mean?”

“Oh, yeah.” Vince squirmed. “That’s a big part of the problem.”

“They suspect you because of an affair that took place sixteen years ago? Have you seen her since high school?” Skye was getting confused.

“She left town the day we graduated. I don’t think she’s ever been back.”

“Wait a minute. She lived with Uncle Charlie, didn’t she? I remember—she was his real niece.”

“Right. His youngest sister was her mother. Her parents were killed in a car crash the summer before her senior year, and she moved here from Chicago to live with him.” Vince began to fold the towels in the laundry basket next to the dryer.

“It was during that time that he told me to stop coming over to visit. I was really hurt,” Skye said in astonishment.

“He probably wanted to protect you from Honey’s bad influence.”

“Even so, with Mom and Dad being so close to Charlie, I’m surprised they didn’t at least try to pretend they liked Honey.”

“Honey made it difficult for people to ignore her bad qualities. Charlie had a real rough time that year. I think he was mortified by her behavior. All I could see was how pretty she was,” Vince said, looking off into the distance.

“Typical male. Thinking with your crotch instead of your brain.”

Vince punched Skye in the arm. She yelped and grabbed for his ponytail. She missed, lost her balance, bumped into a chair, and went sprawling on the floor. Brother and sister both broke into gales of laughter.

They eventually stopped giggling and Skye got back into the chair. “I still don’t understand why a high school romance makes you the prime suspect. Anyone who came into the salon could have stolen the scissors.”

“I haven’t told you the worst part.” Vince squatted in front of her. “The morning of our high school graduation Honey asked me to take her for a ride. When I picked her up, she told me she was pregnant and I was the father. All she wanted from me was enough money for an abortion and to get away from Scumble River. Honey hated this town. She said it was full of hicks.”

“What did you do?”

Vince glared. “What could I do? I went home, cleaned out my savings, and gave her the five hundred dollars. She promised not to tell Mom and Dad or Charlie, and I thought that would be the end of it.”

“It wasn’t, though, was it?” Skye guessed.

“No. In December of that year I got a phone call from her. Luckily, none of you were home. She said she’d decided to have the baby after all and she wanted me to pay child support.”

“Oh, my God!” Stunned, Skye sagged in her chair.

“That certainly was my reaction too.” Vince smiled grimly. “I’ve been sending her money every month since that phone call.”

“Was it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. Wade. She only let me see the baby once. Probably to convince me to pay up. But twice a year I’d get pictures and copies of his report cards. I never knew where she was. The money went to a post office box in Chicago, and she met me at Louis Joliet Mall.”

“Did you know she was Mrs. Gumtree?” Skye reached into her tote and found her notebook.

“I’ve never seen the TV show, and I didn’t look closely at the posters until this morning. Even then I’m not sure I would have recognized her. The makeup was remarkable.”

“This must have had something to do with you needing money?”

“Yeah, she called a week ago and said she wanted to send Wade to private school, and I needed to send her twenty-five hundred dollars by September fifth.” He went back to folding towels.

“Have you sent it?”

“No. Since I’ve been going out with Abby I’ve started to think about a lot of things. I told Honey I wasn’t sending any more money until after she agreed to regular visits. She threatened to talk to Mom and Dad, which is what she did every time I balked at giving her more money. But I stood firm this time.”

“You paid all these years just because she threatened to tell Mom and Dad?” Skye asked incredulously.

“That was part of it. They’ve never been very proud of me, and I thought this would make them think even less of me. Mostly, though, it just seemed like the right thing to do. If I had fathered a child, I should support it. Honey’s explanation of why I shouldn’t see him seemed logical. Why confuse the kid with a parent who wasn’t going to be around?”

“What made you change your mind?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe because he was turning sixteen. I don’t know. All I wanted was to see him. I told her I wouldn’t even mention I was his father.”

“She refused?” Skye was sure she already knew the answer.

“After calling me everything but a gentleman, she hung up. There was a message on my answering machine the next day saying she would talk to me Sunday.”

“Sunday was the day she was killed. I wonder if she planned to talk to you in person,” Skye speculated. “How much of this do the police know?”

“Only about the styling shears and that we dated in high school. They didn’t mention a child at all, but I told Loretta the whole story.”

“Good. Who else knows?”

“No one.” Vince looked uncomfortable.

“Tell me the kinds of questions the police asked.”

“Where was I when the murder was committed? When did I last see Honey? Things like that.”