Denise Swanson - Murder of a Small-Town Honey

"We're fine, Mike. Thanks for snagging the bench. Fve been on my feet all day." Abby slipped off a sandal and rubbed her instep.

"Oh, anything special happen at school or just the usual disasters?" Skye turned slightly to look at Abby.

Before Abby could answer, Vince pushed his way back out the door and plopped himself down on the bench next to her. "It's a madhouse in there. The hostess said it would be about forty-five minutes. You guys want to stay or try somewhere else?"

"It's Friday night. Everywhere will be crowded. Let's just stay here." Skye looked at the others for agreement.

Mike reached across the women and lightly punched Vince in the arm. "I told you we should have gone some­place where they take reservations."

Vince muttered under his breath, "You did not."

Skye was surprised to hear Vince answer back. He usu­ally avoided confrontation. The silence became uncomfort­able as the men silently stared at each other.

It occurred to Skye that this might be the time to ask about Honey and Mike's past relationship. She didn't want the conversation to end like the one with Lloyd had earlier, so she chose her words carefully. "Mike, you and Vince go way back, huh?"

"Yep, we were in kindergarten together." Mike sat back and extended his arm across the back of the bench.

Vince added, "Yeah, he was the one who borrowed the class hamster, and I was the one who got into trouble for it."

Wow, two confrontations in a row. This isn't like the Vince I know. Maybe he changed while I was gone. Skye looked at her brother thoughtfully

"Vince, why bring up ancient history?" Mike replied. "Remember Matthew, chapter six, verse twelve: 'Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.'"

Skye frowned. "I thought that was from the Lord's Prayer."

"You Catholics do not know your Bible."

Not wanting to get sidetracked from her original line of questioning, Skye asked, "Were you two friends throughout school?"

"Yeah, I guess. More so in high school, when we were both on the basketball team," Vince answered.

"That must have been tough. If it was anything like when I was in school, all the popular girls went out with the basketball team. I remember my junior year two of our

stars fought the whole season over one girl. They never talked except on the court."

Mike laughed. "We never seemed to have the same taste in girls. Vince always liked the ice queens and I preferred the sex kittens."

"I recall one girl you both liked," Abby said softly.

Skye could have kissed her. This was exactly where she wanted the conversation to go. Disregarding the dirty looks that both Vince and Mike shot at Abby, Skye asked, "Would that have been Honey Adair? I understand almost every male in Scumble River was attracted to her."

"She and I were through by the time Vince started dating her," Mike said. "In fact, I think it was my idea that he ask her out."

Once again Vince muttered to himself, "It was not."

"It seems that no one went with her for very long," Skye said. "I was told she was always after greener pastures. Why did you break up with her, Mike?" Skye looked him in the eye.

He got up from the bench, stepped over to the door, and peered inside. "I wonder if we're getting close to a table? Maybe I should check."

Smiling, she patted the vacant spot next to her. "Oh, that's not necessary. The time goes fast when you're having a nice conversation."

Reluctantly, Mike sat back down.

"Mike, you were going to tell us about your breakup with Honey," Skye reminded him after a few moments of silence.

"Why are you so interested in a past romance? Not jeal­ous, are you?" Mike put his arm around Skye's shoulder.

"No, you moron," Abby suddenly broke in. "She's try­ing to figure out who killed Honey Adair, and you're one of her suspects."

"Talking to a man in that manner is why you're still sin­gle, Abby." Mike smiled cruelly.

Abby's face mirrored her fury, but before she could speak Vince whispered something in her ear. He turned to Mike and Skye. "We'll be right back."

After they left, Mike drew Skye closer. "You really ought to leave the investigating to the police. An innocent young lady like yourself could get hurt asking questions of the wrong people."

"So, you're not going to answer my question?" She shrugged out of his embrace and scooted to the far side of the bench.

"Is there any reason I shouldn't tell you?" When she didn't respond, he slouched down farther and examined his fingernails. "She wanted to get married and I didn't. Even tried to tell me she was pregnant—but she couldn't prove it when I confronted her."

"Why did you sic her on Vince?"

Mike shrugged, unconcerned. "He always dated such nice girls, I thought it was time he had a taste of the wild side. Now that I've found Jesus, I can see I was wrong. 'There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked.' Isaiah, chapter forty-eight, verse twenty-two."

"Did you find God while you were in prison?" Skye asked pointedly.

"Yes, I did. I'm not ashamed of my past. I learned a trade and was born again."

"Which church do you belong to, Mike?" Skye looked in the direction Abby and Vince had disappeared.

"The Church of Forgiveness. I founded it myself. You'll have to come to one of our services."

"Where is it? I don't remember seeing a new church building."

"It's on Springfield, between Basin and Kinsman." Mike slid closer to Skye.

She thought a moment. "Oh, yeah, I know where it is." She had passed by it one day and wondered about its on-

gins. After all, it's not often that you see a church in a dou­ble-wide trailer. "When are services?"

"Tuesdays at seven and Sunday at eight. Why don't you come this Tuesday?"

"I certainly will... if I'm free." Right after I dye my hair black and get a tattoo,

"You should come. It would help you after your awful experience." Mike took her hand.

Skye wasn't sure which awful experience he was refer­ring to but guessed. "You mean when I found Honey's body?"

"Yes, that must have been awful for you. I'll bet you dropped everything and ran out screaming."

"Well, actually, I was pretty calm when it was happen­ing. I didn't have my breakdown until afterward."

"Did you see anything?" Mike didn't seem upset when Skye withdrew her hand from his grasp.

"No. I was inside the trailer for less than a minute. I didn't have time to look around."

"Sometimes we see things without them registering right away."

"I guess so, but like I said, I was there for such a short time and I didn't touch anything but Honey."

Mike put his arm back around her shoulders and squeezed hard. "Let's hope the murderer believes that."

CHAPTER 17

Lonely Street

Saturday morning, thanks to the school district's lack of a social worker, Skye found herself driving in and around the outskirts of Scumble River. While attempting to get the special education files in order, she had discovered several with no telephone numbers and only sketchy addresses. All but one family had proved to be accessible through neigh­bors or relations.

Earl Doozier, Jr., needed a reevaluation. In order for this testing to take place, Skye needed a signed Consent for As­sessment form. Parents couldn't be asked for a signature if they were unreachable, and since the Dooziers had no tele­phone number and an iffy address, obtaining permission would require the dreaded home visit.

As she drove up and down streets, searching for the cor­rect address, Skye thought of an assembly she had attended her senior year in high school. The speaker talked about the history of the town. Most of the other students were bored, but Skye had been enthralled. It was the only time she had found anything interesting about Scumble River, and what the man had said remained clear in her memory even now.