Murder of a Sweet Old Lady (33 page)

The adolescent finally straightened and grabbed Skye by the wrist. “Something abhorrent has happened. You have to come right now. Hurry!”

Skye found herself half running, half being dragged down the long hall. Orange lockers went by in a blur, and the smell of that day’s lunch caught in her throat.

The teen skidded to a halt before the closed gym doors and pointed. “In there.”

“Who are you? And what are you talking about?”

“This is just FYI. I’m out of here.” The girl tried to push past Skye and head back down the corridor.

Skye grabbed the hood of her top. “Oh, no, you don’t. Explain.”

“Hey, Cujo! Back in your cage.” The teen twisted violently, trying to free herself. She turned an anger-filled stare on Skye, who met her gaze without blinking. Finally, the girl shrugged. “So, okay. I cut my eighth-period study hall, and I was hanging around here and there, waiting until my buds got out of school. I wanted a cigarette, and knew there was no PE last hour, so I went in the gym. It was dark. I thought I saw someone on the stage, so I went closer. That’s when I saw her. What’s her name? The cheer-leader playing Sleeping Beauty. She was lying there dead.”

The teen tried again to free herself. Skye refused to let go. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re staying with me. Let’s check this out. Sleeping Beauty was probably just rehearsing or taking a nap.” Under her breath she muttered, “Or maybe she was afraid of you.”

Side by side they entered the unlit gym. As her eyes adjusted, Skye could just make out the stage at the opposite end of the room. It held partially completed sets for the spring musical
Sleeping Beauty
. She moved forward, a firm grip on her prisoner’s hood. Half walls and skeletal trees loomed in the darkness. While they climbed the steps up to the stage, Skye wondered if she were doing the right thing. She didn’t think the faculty handbook covered this situation.

To their right, a mock castle bedroom had been set up. Lying on the twin bed was one of the most beautiful young women Skye had ever seen. Her straight blond hair brushed the floor, and her face was a flawless oval. She had passed from the awkwardness of adolescence and was yet to be touched by the hand of time. She was perfect.

Skye took a closer look at the young woman. Her skin had a waxy appearance and was almost blue-gray in color. Her lips and nails were pale. Skye rushed to the bed and checked for a pulse. She could feel nothing over the thud of her own heartbeat. She put her ear to the girl’s chest. Again nothing. Finally, she placed the back of her hand to the teen’s mouth. She wasn’t breathing.

Skye forced herself to remain calm and tried to remember what she had learned in her first aid course. Nothing applied to this situation. Sleeping Beauty was dead.