Murder of a Stacked Librarian (11 page)

Exhaling, Skye slumped in relief. The poinsettia red silky taffeta gown looked gorgeous on her friend. The maternity version had an empire waist, but the rest was identical to the other bridesmaids’ dresses. The straps were sewn at an asymmetrical vee, and there was a diamanté snowflake-shaped embellishment where they merged at the sweetheart neckline.

“You look incredible,” Skye said, thrilled she could tell the truth.

“Yes, I do.” Loretta spun around and peered at herself in the full-length mirror. “What do you think of my shoes?” She lifted the hem.

Skye glanced down at Loretta’s feet and saw fabulous black satin peep-toe pumps with a sparkling brooch and an hourglass heel. “Stunning.” She loved them. She had told her attendants they could wear any shoes they wanted as long as they were black, but now she wished she’d asked them all to buy the ones Loretta had on.

“The dress fits perfectly.” Loretta looked over her shoulder and down at her derriere. “Does it make my ass look big?”

“Not at all.” Skye kept her face expressionless, sure that her sister-in-law would not be amused if she mentioned that compared to her front, Loretta’s rear end was minuscule. “You look great.”

“That reminds me, did I mention that a few hours before her car went off the bridge, I talked to that librarian who was killed?” Loretta kicked off her pumps and retreated to the walk-in closet.

“What reminds you?” Skye followed Loretta and helped her out of the gown.

“The subject of big butts.” Loretta wiggled into her maternity jeans.

“Okay.” Skye hung up the bridesmaids dress. “I surrender. How do big butts jog your memory about your encounter with a dead librarian?”

“You know how I’ve been trying to wind up my part of that case I’ve been working on? So I can turn it over to the attorney who’s covering for me while I’m on maternity leave?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I finally finished about three o’clock Christmas Eve, and just as I was about to e-mail everything to my paralegal, the power went out.” Loretta slid her T-shirt over her head and slipped on her loafers. “The trial starts today, and I needed to get the info to the firm ASAP in order for my replacement to have time to go over it before he walked into court.”

“So you went to the library to use their Internet,” Skye guessed.

“Exactly.” Loretta eased onto the vanity bench and smoothed her hair. “It was the only place I could think of that was open and had Wi-Fi.”

“Okay, now I know why you were at the library.” Skye wrinkled her brow. “So tell me the connection between large rear ends and Yvonne.”

“We were chatting about the negatives of being pregnant,” Loretta explained, “and she said that when she was expecting, both her boobs and her butt got so big that she felt like Dita Von Teese.”

“Who?”

“The Queen of Burlesque.” Loretta shrugged. “She has this really knockout hourglass figure.”

“I get it. Yvonne had an amazing shape, too,” Skye commented, then added, “An attribute I’m not sure she was entirely comfortable with.”

“She mentioned that men hit on her all the time, even when she was preggers,” Loretta confirmed. “She said she was sick and tired of guys seeing her only as a body and not being interested in her brain.”

“I suppose if you look like a
Cosmo
model, you have to expect that.”

“Yeah.” Loretta nodded. “But it wasn’t as if she dressed to show off her assets.”

“True.”

“She said she was going to a party with this man she’d been seeing for the past couple of months who seemed different, and she had to leave straight from the library because she was meeting him in Laurel at five. She was wearing this really chic bronze Armani suit, but it wasn’t very sexy.” Loretta made a face. “I told her she should go home and change into something slinkier.”

“Why?” Skye asked. “Yvonne clearly didn’t want that kind of image.”

“I don’t think it was that she didn’t want to look sexy,” Loretta corrected. “I think she just didn’t want that to be
all
that people thought she was. So I told her that clearly, if she’d been dating this guy for a while, he’d already passed her test and deserved a treat.”

“What did Yvonne say?”

“She agreed.”

CHAPTER 10

Beyond the Tale

“S
o tell me about Emmy Jones.” Skye made herself comfortable in the squad car’s passenger seat, prepared to interrogate Wally during the entire drive to Laurel if necessary.

“There’s nothing to tell.” Wally slid a quick glance at Skye.

“Come on. Really?” She raised a brow. “A hot dancer who is an expert markswoman, a woman you see frequently yet have never mentioned to me.” She shook her head. “I bet there’s lots to tell.”

“I’m not sure what you want to hear.” Wally took another hasty peek at Skye, then returned his attention to the two-lane blacktop. “We shoot together. That’s all.”

“How long have you known her?” Skye asked, realizing she would have to dig the information out of Wally—not unlike her counseling sessions with most adolescent boys.

“Six months or so,” Wally answered, clearly reluctant to continue the conversation. “I think she started coming to the club in June, and it was at least four or five weeks after that when we first competed against each other.” He shrugged. “Since it wasn’t that important, I didn’t keep track.”

“Hmm.” Skye remembered that July had been the height of her wedding planning frenzy. “Why didn’t you ever mention her to me?”

“I already told you—it didn’t seem that important.” Wally tugged on his tie. “She was just one of the guys at the club.” He looked at her sharply. “Think about it. Have I talked about any of them?”

“No,” Skye admitted. “But I’m assuming the rest of the
guys
aren’t babes.”

“There are other women who belong to the gun club,” Wally insisted. “Tomi Jackson, Luella Calhoun, and Kathryn Steele all shoot.”

“Let’s see.” Skye kept track on her fingers. “Tomi is in her sixties or seventies, Luella prefers girls, and you’re usually at odds with Kathryn because her newspaper reporters frequently interfere with your investigations.”

“That’s not the point,” Wally argued. “The point I’m making is that I’ve never told you they were members of the gun club either.”

“Okay.” Skye crossed her arms. “Let’s set aside the issue of your not telling me about Emmy. Did you know that she was Ruby’s daughter?”

“No.” Wally braked for a stop sign. “I knew she was living with Bunny, but not why. I just figured that Bunny was renting out her extra room to make money for more Botox or plastic surgery. Like the time she accepted counterfeit money in exchange for closing down the bowling alley for that bachelor party or that cat show/speed dating thing she tried to pull off eight months ago.”

“Did you know Emmy had gotten into trouble in Las Vegas?” Skye asked.

“No.” He took his turn at the four-way, then said, “Emmy and I don’t talk that much, and when we do, we usually discuss weapons.”

“She seemed to know a lot more about you than just what guns you like to shoot.” Skye tapped her fingers on the dashboard. “She asked if we were there for dance lessons for the wedding.”

“Because when I first met her she indicated she was available.” Wally’s expression was wary. “But before you jump to conclusions, I made sure she knew that I was getting married in a few months. I guess I should have told you, but you were so busy during the summer. I didn’t want to waste the little bit of time we had together on something trivial.”

“Oh.” A faint flush rose in Skye’s cheeks. Between her job as a lifeguard at the recreation club—which Wally had suggested she not take this year—and her mother insisting that she do multiple cake and food tastings for the reception, Skye had barely seen Wally. That might have been a serious error on her part.

Wally abruptly pulled the car over to the side of the road, turned to Skye, and took both her hands in his. “Why are you suddenly so jealous? That’s not like you at all.” He studied her face. “I know you don’t truly think I would ever cheat on you with Emmy or anyone else, so what’s really going on?”

“I guess I have bridal jitters.” Skye caressed Wally’s palm with her thumb and gazed into his dark chocolate eyes. “A part of me is convinced that I’m not the kind of woman who gets a happily ever after, so I keep thinking the wicked queen will show up at the last minute, wave her magic wand, and make you disappear.”

“Darlin’.” Wally leaned over the console, cupped her cheek, and between kisses on her upturned face, he said, “That’ll never happen. I would shoot the wand to pieces before she could say ‘abracadabra.’ You’re stuck with me until death do us part.”

“I know I’m being silly and I’m sorry.” Skye pressed her lips to his, determined to show him that she was remorseful for having doubted him. When they came up for air, she said, “Four more days and I promise to return to the land of the sane.” She tilted her head. “Or at least my usual brand of insanity.”

“I’m looking forward to that.” Wally kissed her temple, then eased the Caprice back onto the asphalt. “Now can we discuss the case?”

“If we must.” Skye pretended reluctance, then asked, “I take it since we’re driving all the way over to Laurel, you’re certain Yvonne’s husband will be home. Did you call him and make an appointment?”

“No. I like to surprise possible suspects. When they’re off balance, they don’t always think before they speak and sometimes they blurt out something incriminating.” Wally slowed as a trio of deer ran onto the road, stared at the oncoming squad car, then scampered away. “What I did was phone his company to see if he was there. His secretary said that he was taking the day off to care for his son because his wife was sick with the flu.”

“We’re going into a house with flu germs?” Skye’s voice rose an octave.

“We have to talk to him.” Wally gripped the wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “So we really don’t have much choice.”

“But what if we catch the flu and are sick for the wedding?”

Wally’s jaw clenched, but he repeated patiently, “I have no choice.” The muscle under his left eye twitched. “If you want, you can wait in the car.”

“No,” Skye conceded. “You’re right.” She started to bite her thumbnail, then stopped and sat on her hands. She had an appointment for a manicure on the twenty-eighth and wanted her nails to be in good shape. “Maybe we could wear masks and gloves.”

“Seriously?” Wally’s nostrils flared. “You want to conduct an interview wearing a mask? Are you sure you don’t want the whole hazmat suit?” he teased.

“I guess not,” Skye conceded, rolling her eyes at her own foolishness. “I suppose it would be a little tough to establish any kind of rapport dressed as if we thought he had the plague.”

“You think?”

“But I don’t want to sneeze my way down the aisle either.” Skye wrinkled her nose. “Or spend our honeymoon in bed—at least not in bed sick.”

“Definitely not.” Wally winked at her. “I have big plans for how we spend our time in bed.”

“Me too.” Skye’s heart did a tap dance, thinking of the sexy lingerie she’d received from her friends at last month’s personal shower.

“If we make sure not to touch our faces and wash our hands with sanitizer as soon as we get back in the car, we’ll be okay,” he soothed. “Besides, we both had our flu shots.”

“Sure.” Skye nodded, not really convinced but seeing no use in pursuing the subject. Instead, she said, “Does Yvonne’s husband drive an Escalade?”

Wally shook his head.

“Did you find out anything new about the case while I was gone this afternoon?”

“Not much.” Wally braked at a stoplight. They had entered Laurel’s city limits and were driving through town toward the highway. “Quirk escorted Phoebe home and she produced the SAT scores and the U of C acceptance letter. She also gave him her laptop and consented to have it examined by the crime lab. We’ll drop it off after we talk to her dad.”

“So you’ll authorize her release once we’ve talked to her dad?” When Wally nodded, Skye said, “That’s good. It sounds as if it’s pretty unlikely she killed her mother.”

“Right.” The light turned green and Wally drove forward. “The only other interesting thing is that as we suspected, Zuchowski wasn’t home.”

“Oh, oh.” Skye flipped down the visor. “Are you going to fire him?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Wally frowned. “I hate to leave the department shorthanded while I’m away on our honeymoon, so I might put him on probation instead.”

“That’s a good compromise.” Skye took a brush from her purse and fixed her hair. “Back to the case, I might have some information. I went to see Loretta during that hour I had free.”

“Checking to see if her bridesmaids dress fits,” Wally guessed. “Did she try it on for you?”

“Yes, and it looks great.” Skye applied apricot lip gloss, then wiped her fingers on a tissue. “While Loretta was modeling the gown, she mentioned that she saw Yvonne the afternoon before she died.”

“What time?”

“Loretta chatted with her while Yvonne was closing up the library,” Skye answered. “So it must have been four o’clock.”

“What did they talk about?” Wally asked, getting into the left-turn lane.

“Big butts.” She paused to enjoy Wally’s startled reaction, then described Loretta and the librarian’s conversation. When Skye was finished, she asked, “You saw Yvonne when they pulled her out of the water, right?” At Wally’s nod, she added, “Do you remember what she was wearing?”

“She had on this tight red dress with pleats across here.” Wally gestured to his upper chest. “And what do you call those thin straps?”

“Spaghetti.”

“Yeah, those.” Wally nodded. “And she had this fancy coat that looked like it was supposed to go with the dress. It was red satin, too, but it had big black flowers all over it.”

“So she did go home and change,” Skye murmured almost to herself.

“She must have. She definitely wasn’t wearing the brown suit Loretta saw her in.” He rubbed his chin. “Until Phoebe told us about that Tom Riley guy, we wondered why she was heading away from her house. She must have been on her way to Laurel to meet him.”