Denise Swanson - Murder of a Small-Town Honey

"If I catch you talking to my wife or spreading any more lies about me, I'll see that you're fired. Remember, I know what happened at your last job. I will not be a scapegoat for your brother." Lloyd thrust his finger at Skye again.

Just then Charlie emerged from the bedroom next to the connecting door. "You'll what?" he thundered. "Believe me, Stark, Scumble River will see the backside of you long before my goddaughter is ever fired."

Lloyd stalked past Skye and Charlie without replying. He shouldered people out of his way and slammed the front door behind him.

"Well, Uncle Charlie, I think I'm in trouble now."

Charlie put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, honey. Lloyd's reign of terror is just about over."

"What do you mean?"

"Come to the board meeting tomorrow night and you'll see."

"You've got something on him. Could it help Vince?"

"It won't help Vince, but it will get Mr. Lloyd Stark out of our hair."

Before Skye could ask more questions she heard a voice calling her name. She turned and saw Honey's agent beck­oning to her. After excusing herself to Charlie, Skye joined the Chicago Three.

"Skye, I couldn't help but notice that you and Charlie seem very close," Blanche stated as soon as Skye walked over.

"Yes?" Skye waited to see what was on the agent's agenda.

"We have an exciting project to honor Honey, but Char­lie is reluctant to give us the go-ahead, and we thought maybe you could explain it to him." Blanche moved closer to Skye. "See, the thing is, the terms of Honey's will give Charlie the rights to her life story."

"I really don't think I should get involved." Skye tried to move away, but both the producer and the publicist blocked all possible avenues of escape.

"Just listen." Adrian adjusted the cuff of his lilac shirt. "It's a fabulous idea."

Roxanne whipped open her notebook. "We think the Honey/Mrs. Gumtree story would be a marvelous made-for-TV movie. It has everything: sex, violence, deception. The murder scene with that hairdresser plunging his scis­sors into Honey's throat would be boffo."

Skye shook them off like raindrops. " 'That hairdresser' is my brother, and he did not kill Honey. Any suggestion in a book, movie, or cartoon that he did and you'll be speak­ing with our attorney."

No one blinked. Finally Blanche said, "Does this mean you won't help us get Charlie to sign a release?"

The last of the crowd was slowly taking their leave. Charlie and May stood by the door, easing them out. After the ceremony at the cemetery, Jed had dropped Skye off at the funeral home to get her car, then gone to the farm to work on some machinery. She was to drive May home after they finished cleaning up at Charlie's.

Skye grabbed a tray from the kitchen and started fetch­ing dirty plates, silverware, and cups. The places where people crammed them were amazing. Someone had even deposited their debris in a file drawer in the desk.

Skye put her tray on the floor and knelt down. Warily she picked out the dirty plate. Several papers clung to it. She put them aside, meaning to wipe them with a damp cloth. The knife and fork were easily retrieved, but the cup had spilled its liquid dregs into the bottom of the drawer.

Taking out the wet papers, Skye added them to the soiled pile. She picked up the pages in her left hand and then used her right hand and the edge of her left to lift the tray.

Once in the kitchen, she ran hot water and squeezed dish soap into the sink, placing the dirty dishes, cups, and uten­sils in the water to soak. After clearing the table of contain­ers and serving dishes, she spread the moist papers from the desk on the tabletop and started to blot them with paper towels.

As she was doing this, the letterhead caught her eye. It de­picted a stylized drawing of a woman's face with an elabo­rate crown and read: "Baroness Riverboat Casino." Alarmed, she looked closer. Most of the papers bore the same insignia, although a few were from other riverboat casinos in the area. All were letters demanding payment of credit extended for gambling. Some were over a year old.

Skye debated returning for a look at the files remaining in the drawer, but before she could decide, Charlie and May walked in.

Charlie's eyes were immediately drawn to the papers on the table. "What are you doing with those?" he roared.

"Someone opened the drawer of your desk and stuffed their dirty plate and cup inside. Coffee and food were spilled on some of the papers so I took them out to wipe them off." Skye felt her face turn red and looked away. "I'm sorry, Uncle Charlie."

Coming around Charlie, May put her arm around Skye and quickly skimmed the papers. "Charlie Patukas, what's the meaning of this, yelling at Skye like she was the one who did something wrong."

Charlie pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down heavily in it. He buried his face in his hands.

Skye knelt beside him and hugged him. "Tell us about it. You'll feel better."

He sighed. "It started a few years ago. I always did like a good poker game, but stakes around here are usually pretty low and I never lost more than I could afford. Then I started going to the boats. They had senior citizens' day and

free breakfast for the early-bird cruises and this and that until I was so far in debt I didn't know what to do."

"That's why you couldn't lend Vince the money," Skye murmured.

May gave her a funny look. "So, what did you do, Char­lie?"

"I sold everything I could—my car, my investments, everything but the motor court, and they wanted that too." Charlie looked down and rolled the edge of the nearest let­ter. "Finally, I asked Honey for a loan."

"I thought you didn't know where she was." Skye pulled up a chair and sat down next to him.

"She wrote me a few years ago and gave me a post of­fice box address, in case of an emergency. I figured this was as close to an emergency as I was likely to get."

"Did she give you the money?"

"No, she said she didn't have it." Charlie wouldn't look up.

"So then what did you do?" May walked to the sink and started to wash the dishes.

"Before I could decide what to do, she was murdered and I inherited that money. The casino is glad to wait until the will is probated."

"I'll bet they are. What have you done about this gam­bling problem of yours?" Skye looked at him sternly, forc­ing him to meet her eyes.

He put his right hand over his heart. "You don't have to worry. I started going to Gamblers Anonymous in Joliet three months ago and haven't placed a bet since."

Skye gathered up the letters and stooped to kiss him on the cheek. "Good for you."

They remained quiet for a moment.

"I didn't kill Honey." Charlie looked from May to Skye.

"We don't think you did." May turned away from the sink.

"Good, because I have an alibi. Fayanne Emerick was

with me from nine o'clock until Skye found me at eleven. I wish you'd ask her."

Skye squeezed his hand. "We believe you."

The phone rang, startling them all. Charlie answered, then handed the receiver to Skye. "It's Loretta Steiner."

May rushed to the phone, trying to hear what Loretta was saying.

After a few "okays" and "ahas" Skye hung up. She turned to May and Charlie. "They're charging Vince with first-degree murder. They just got verification of a letter they found in Honey's condo last week. It's in Vince's handwriting, and he threatens to get rid of her if she doesn't leave him alone."

CHAPTER 22

Jailhouse Rock

Erst thing the next morning Skye phoned Fayanne and confirmed that the liquor store owner and Charlie had been together during the time he claimed.

Fayanne's exact words were, "Nope, the man never left my sight. I stuck to him like the printing on a T-shirt."