Murder Of A Snake In The Grass (20 page)

The mayor’s braying laughter stopped abruptly when Fayanne said, “Yeah, well, I finally figured out the way to a man’s heart.” She waited a beat before adding, “Through his chest with a sharp knife.”

Skye swung around.
Through a man’s chest
. That’s how Gabriel Scumble was murdered. Which was exactly why Fayanne wouldn’t brag about it, right? Skye narrowed her eyes, distracted by the bizarre vision in front of her. What on earth was Fayanne wearing? The older woman had poured herself into a raspberry satin jumpsuit that laced up the back.

Something about that color nudged Skye’s memory. She jerked her gaze to Fayanne’s lips. She had seen that shade of lipstick before. It was the one on the handkerchief the
birdwatcher had found that morning. That unique pink-purple color couldn’t be mistaken, and Skye would bet no one else in town wore such an awful shade.

It was time to talk to Wally again. She’d call him from school tomorrow, or stop by after work.

Come to think of it, why wasn’t he at the dance? He’d promised to be there.

S
till slightly damp from her Monday morning swim in the high school’s pool, Skye hurried down the hallway, mentally running through what she needed to accomplish before going over to the elementary school. Three kids to counsel, two teachers to consult with, and a parent to call back. Gee, it almost sounded like that song “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

If there were absolutely no interruptions, she could accomplish these tasks within the three and a half hours she was scheduled to be at the high school. As soon as that thought popped into her head, she knew she had jinxed herself. The ringing of the phone before she even got her door unlocked proved her right.

As she let herself into her office, she took a moment to gloat. It had taken two long years, but she had finally convinced the principal to let her have the room for her very own.

It had previously housed the guidance records and the part-time guidance counselor, who was also the boys’ PE teacher. Although he already had an office in the gym, he had fought tooth and nail to keep this one too.

Now, the file cabinets had been moved to a small cubicle within the main office area, which also housed the photocopier and coffee pot, Coach had been told to use his gym
office, and Skye had been given exclusive rights to this room. She considered it a major coup for school psychologists everywhere.

She dropped her purse into the desk drawer, plopped into the comfy old leather chair, and scooped the receiver from its cradle. “Skye Denison, may I help you?”

Opal Hill, the high school secretary, sighed. “I’m so glad you’re here. Mr. Knapik wants to speak to you right now.” She always sounded as if she were single-handedly running the school—probably because she was.

Skye tried not to add to her burden. “Right now, like as soon as I get a cup of coffee, or right now, like as fast as I can walk down there?”

There was a short silence while Opal calculated. “Coffee is okay.”

“Fine, see you in a couple of minutes.”

Minutes later, Skye entered the main office juggling her appointment book, legal pad, pen, and thermal mug.

Opal stood at the counter balancing a phone on her shoulder, counting out money to a student, and sorting envelopes. She blew a strand of wispy brown hair out of her eyes and gestured Skye into the principal’s office.

“You know, Opal,” Skye said, hoping to take the worried look off the secretary’s face, “Monday is an awful way to spend one seventh of your life.”

The secretary nodded quickly and turned back to work with a small smile.

Homer Knapik had been principal of Scumble River High when Skye and her brother Vince went to school there. It had been awkward going from student to colleague, but Skye always forced herself to call him by his first name and act as if they were both adults.

Today she pushed open his door and said, “Good morning, Homer. You wanted to see me?”

“What’s all this I hear about Grady Nelson?” Homer was seated at his desk, a pencil behind his ear and papers spread
everywhere. He was a squarely built man with an overabundance of hair sprouting over most of his body.

Knowing he was not one for social niceties, Skye didn’t wait for an invitation to sit down. “I imagine you’ve had quite an earful about that youngster. Where would you like me to begin?”

Homer scratched a hairy ear. “How about the arrest?”

“Sure, but this is secondhand. I wasn’t present.”

The principal nodded.

“Grady was taken into police custody for questioning regarding the murder of Gabriel Scumble. It’s my understanding that he was not actually arrested, and that he refused to answer anything the police asked. I hear he is currently bragging about having outsmarted the cops.”

“Just what we need, a more powerful Grady.”

“Earlier in the weekend, I caught him and his gang tormenting a group of kids at the Founder’s Day Speech.”

“Sounds like our Grady. That boy has delusions of adequacy.”

Skye grinned. Every once in a while, Homer hit the nail on the head without even realizing it.

He searched for his calendar. “When’s the meeting to go over his testing with his parents? I want this kid out of here and in an alternative school as of yesterday.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Nelson are supposed to come in tomorrow at seven-thirty to meet with us and the rep from the North-west Alternative School,” Skye explained. She pinned the principal with a stare. “You
are
planning to attend that meeting, right?”

“Sure. I’ve got it in my book.” He looked back down at his paperwork, indicating Skye was dismissed.

She got up and was reaching for the door when it flew inward, knocking her back a step.

A middle-aged woman burst into the room, sobbing. “This is it. I’ve had it. I quit.”

Skye recognized her as one of the bus drivers and tried to
sidle out of the office. She had made it as far as the front counter before Homer yelled, “Skye, get back in here!” She reluctantly retraced her path.

The bus driver sat in one of the visitors’ chairs. Skye took the other. Homer was on the phone with Opal, bellowing instructions.

He hung up and turned to the woman. “Tell her what you just told me.”

“I’ve been driving for ten years, and I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

Skye patted her hand. The woman was chalk white with a film of sweat above her lip. “Take your time.”

“I start my route in the country, at the very edge of our district. Then I work my way back toward the school. The bus is mixed.”

“Mixed?” Skye asked.

“All ages,” Homer interjected. “Kindergarten through high school.”

“That must make things tougher,” Skye commented.

“Usually it’s okay,” the woman said. “Most of them are real good kids, but lately three high school boys have been giving me a hard time. I been praying for one of them to turn sixteen and start driving to school.”

Skye nodded her understanding.

“I had just picked up Nanette Carroll when it started. The three boys started teasing her about something. I couldn’t quite hear, but she looked real upset. So at my next stop I had her move up to the seat right behind me. Usually I put either the little ones there to keep them safe or I make the rowdier high school kids sit there to keep an eye on them. But something felt funny today.”

Skye was impressed by the woman’s savvy and compassion. “It’s always good to go with your gut instincts.” Skye wasn’t sure she understood the whole picture yet, so asked, “How old is Nanette?”

“She’s fourteen or fifteen.” The bus driver sighed and
went on. “Anyway, moving Nanette seemed to be the answer. But then during this one stretch of curved road where there’s no place to pull over, and the traffic is usually going pretty fast so I have to really concentrate, one of the boys moved into the seat next to her, and the other two took over the one behind her. She was trapped between them and the window.”

Skye felt a prickle of concern at the back of her neck. “What happened?”

The bus driver looked down at her hands and picked at a hangnail. “I guess I didn’t notice they had moved right away, but I heard a scream and looked in the mirror. They had her shirt pulled up and her bra open and were touching her breasts.”

“How terrible! What did you do?”

“I yelled at them, and they laughed. I pulled over as soon as I could, but those were the longest couple of minutes of my life.”

“Did they stop when you pulled over?” Skye was concerned; the woman almost seemed in shock.

“Yes, but I can still feel the leader’s eyes burning into the back of my neck. He knew there wasn’t anything I could do against the three of them. I couldn’t even make them get off the bus.” The woman shook her head. “Luckily, when I radioed for help there was another bus nearby, and it trailed me back to the school.”

Before Skye could say more, Homer had dismissed the woman and turned back to Skye. “What do you think we should do?”

“First we need to make sure the bus driver is okay. She looked pretty shaky.”

“Opal called her sister; she’ll drive her home.”

“Oh, good. Where are the boys and Nanette now?”

“The girl is in the health room with Opal. The boys are in with Coach.”

Skye could understand why Homer had selected Coach
to watch the miscreants. He was big and tough and wouldn’t hesitate to physically restrain the offenders. Unfortunately his views were trapped in the fifties, even though he’d been just a baby in that decade. She shuddered to think of what he might be saying to the teens. For all she knew, he could be congratulating them for copping a feel.

“Call the girl’s parents right now,” Skye suggested, “but let’s talk to the boys before we call their folks.” Skye made a note on her legal pad. “By the way, who are the boys?”

“Grady Nelson, Arlen Yoder, and Elvis Doozier.”

“No surprises there. Arlen is Gus’s younger brother, right?” The school year before last, Gus had been expelled, and his father had assaulted Skye. He’d actually picked her up out of her seat and shaken her like a dirty rug.

“Yep, we get to deal with Mr. Yoder again.”

“Swell. How does Elvis fit into the Doozier clan?” Skye asked.

“He’s Elvira’s twin. That makes him Earl and Hap’s brother.”

“Then his parents are dead. Who does he live with?”

“His great-grandmother has custody, but she’s about two hundred years old. We’ll have to get Earl in here.”

“Wonderful. The gang’s all here.” Skye paused. “It just occurred to me—we’d better call Wally.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Homer said slowly. “Let the police take part of the heat.”

“I’ll make the call to Wally while you call the girl’s parents.”

Wally arrived within minutes and strode over to where Skye was sitting behind Opal’s desk. “Does the girl need medical attention?”

“She seems fine in that respect.”

“Where are the boys?”

“In the back room with Coach.”

“Have their parents been notified?”

“The girl’s have. We wanted to talk to the boys first.”

“It would have been good to keep them separate.”

“I know, but by the time I found out what was happening, it was too late.” Skye stood. “You go ahead into Homer’s office, I’ll go get one of the boys. Any preference as to who we see first?”

“Save the ringleader for last.”

“Gotcha.” Skye walked to Coach’s new room and stuck her head in the doorway. “We’d like to see Arlen Yoder now.”

The Incredible Hulk rose from a chair and followed her down the short corridor to the principal’s office. The resemblance between Arlen and his father, Leroy, was astonishing. Skye felt somewhat uneasy having the boy behind her, but he followed her directions without question. She seated him between Wally and herself, facing Homer.

Homer spoke first. “You know me, this is Ms. Denison, the school psychologist, and this is Chief Boyd. We understand there was some problem on the bus this morning. Tell us what happened.”

The boy cleared his throat, and Skye noticed that his face was very red, and there were tears in his eyes. “Me and Grady and Elvis were just having some fun.”

“Oh?” The principal stared at him impassively.

“But then Nan got all huffy and acted like she was better than us, so Grady said we had to teach her a lesson.”

“So you did what?” Homer asked.

“We pulled her shirt up and touched her …” The boy trailed off, his face going from scarlet to cerise.

“Touched her what?” Homer’s voice was still mild.

“Her boobies,” Arlen whispered. “Just once, to teach her a lesson.”

Homer leaned forward. “Young man, you will be the one learning the lesson. Do you realize you can be suspended, maybe even expelled, for your actions?”

Wally added, “Arlen, what you did is not only against the
school rules, it’s also against the law. If charges are pressed, you could go to jail.”

“It was Grady,” Arlen sobbed. “He said to do it.”

“Maybe next time Grady tells you to do something, you’d better run the other way,” Wally advised.