Denise Swanson - Murder of a Small-Town Honey

"Is it true that you saw that dead lady?" Zach's hand was on the knob.

"Yes," she answered cautiously.

"Was there blood everywhere?"

She shook her head. "No. Did you know Mrs. Gumtree?"

"Nah, but my uncle dated her in high school." Zach looked down at his feet. "When I told him about taking all these tests with you, he asked if you mentioned seeing any­thing when you found her."

"Who's your uncle?"

"Mike Young."

Before Skye could respond, a voice from the hall yelled, "Zee, ya comin' or not?"

Zach waved and ran out the door.

Skye put the materials back in their case and began to score the various tests she had given Zach. First Lloyd and now Mike. Everyone seems really interested in what I saw.

The town of Laurel was the county seat of Stanley County. It contained the courthouse, the sheriff's office, and the jail. Skye spent the time driving there trying to fig­ure out what to say to Vince.

She pulled into a metered space at a quarter to six. Dig­ging through her wallet and tote bag, she came up with two quarters, a dime, and a nickel in change. This bought her two and a half hours. With visiting hours ending at eight she would have fifteen minutes to get from the jail to her car before it was parked illegally and ticketed or towed.

Skye wasn't sure of the proper attire for a jail visit, but knowing Vince's fastidiousness, she had worn crisply pressed khaki pants, a light-blue oxford-cloth shirt and loafers. Going for a low-key effect, she had pulled her hair back with a tortoiseshell barrette.

She didn't know where the entrance to the jail was lo­cated. Looking around, she decided the most likely direc­tion would be through the sheriff's office.

Its interior was similar to that of the police station in Scumble River. Walking in, she saw a bench to the left and a glassed-in counter to the right. Ahead was a closed steel door. There was a button on the counter, which Skye pushed.

A woman around May's age stepped up to the window, leaned forward, and spoke through the grate. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"I'm here to see my brother, Vince Denison." Skye found herself somewhat embarrassed to admit that she had a brother in jail. "I was told that I could visit him between six and eight."

The woman smiled warmly. "You must be Skye. I'm Betty. May and I know each other from dispatching. She told me all about you. Vince is really anxious to see you. Come on back and I'll take you to the jail."

Betty met Skye on the other side of the door and guided her up a corridor and down some steps. A man in a tan deputy's uniform sat behind a desk, reading a newspaper and eating a sandwich.

Betty marched up and snatched the paper off the desk­top. "Ed, this here is Skye Denison. Her mother is May Denison from the Scumble River P.D. She's here to visit her brother, Vince. You treat her nice, and there'll be cook­ies for you tomorrow."

Ed put his half-eaten sandwich down, wiped his hands on his pants, and stood up. "Now, Betty, you're going to make this girl think I'm not nice to everyone."

She sniffed and started back. "You just remember she's got to come back by my desk, and I'll be asking her if she had a good visit."

"Okay, Miss, you'll have to leave your purse here, and I got to ask if you have any concealed weapons on you."

Shaking her head, Skye handed over her tote bag. "I brought Vince a few magazines. Can I give them to him?"

"Let's see 'em."

"They're in my tote, right on top."

Ed examined the magazines, then turned them over and shook. A shower of subscription cards was the only thing to fall out. He handed the magazines to her. "We haven't got a visiting room, so you'll have to sit in his cell. You can take that folding chair by the desk. You're lucky there's only one other prisoner—it's not too bad."

Ed unlocked the steel door and led her into the jail. Skye followed, carrying the metal chair. The cell closest to the door held a short man with a barrel chest and shaved head. He appeared to have no neck. He lay on his cot with his eyes closed.

The next four cells were empty. Vince was in the last one, seated on the cot with his back supported by the beige cinder-block wall. The only other furnishings were a sink and a toilet without a seat.

While the deputy inserted the key he said, "Vince, stay right where you are." Turning to Skye, he explained, "The prisoners are supposed to be leaning against the far wall whenever we open a door."

Vince stayed seated and Skye walked in. She set up the chair. "Is there anything else, Ed?"

"Nope. I'll leave the door by my desk open. Just yell when you're ready to leave." He slammed the cell door and walked away.

Vince got off the bed and held out his arms. "Thanks, Sis. I sure never wanted you to see me this way."

Skye hugged him and gave him the magazines. "Here, I thought you might need something to read. Is there any­thing else I can get you?"

"No, Mom and Dad brought some clothes and stuff. They get our meals from the local restaurants." Vince sank back onto the bunk.

She tried to make herself comfortable on the metal chair. "Tell me about the letter."

"I wrote it after Honey started demanding more money. That letter was only meant as a bluff."

Studying a scuff on her loafers, Skye avoided his eyes. "You never were too good at poker. I used to clean you out of your allowance all the time."

"Have you found out anything? Loretta said you gave her the names of some other people who had motive and opportunity."

Looking over her shoulder, Skye lowered her voice. "I had a date with Simon Reid on Sunday."

"So? Is that the big secret?"

"He's the county coroner."

"Yeah, I know, and he owns Reid's Funeral Home. How can you date someone who works with dead bodies?" Vince screwed up his face in distaste.

"Fine. How could you have slept with a woman who hit the floor anytime someone yelled 'hoedown'?" Skye shot back.

He ducked his head. "Hey, let's not fight. This whole sit­uation is just so frustrating."

"That's okay. I'm sorry too. But Simon seems like a re­ally nice guy. He knows how to keep a secret, and he's helping me investigate."

Vince got up and went to the sink. He toyed with the handles on the faucet. "How?"

"Simon was with me when I searched Honey's condo, and he told me the results of the autopsy." Skye stared at the graffiti behind Vince's head. It claimed that Bubba loved Charlene.

"What did you find out? Where's my son?"

"I'm sorry, Vince, you don't have a son." Skye was not happy to be the one to break the news to him. "Honey lied. The autopsy showed she'd never been pregnant. She was sterile."

His shoulders sagged. "I think I always knew there was no child. She must have borrowed a baby that one time she

let me see him, and sent pictures of a friend's kid. Her bluff certainly worked better than mine did."

"We did find a record of all her blackmailing activity." Skye hastily added, "Besides you, she was getting money from Lloyd Stark, Darleen Boyd, and Mike Young. I'm pretty sure what she had on Lloyd—he had an affair with her when she was his student—but I haven't got a clue what Darleen and Mike were paying her to keep quiet about. Do you have any ideas?"

Vince thought for a minute, pacing the length of the cell and back. "What Darleen could have done I can't even imagine, but Honey used to hint about something she and Mike were up to."

"We're guessing that whatever she was blackmailing him about took place after she left town. She may even have snuck back into Scumble River from time to time. Her records show that Mike didn't start paying until after he got out of prison, so I don't think it was about drugs. And it probably happened after she left town." Skye paused, then asked, "Can you think of anywhere she might have hidden something in town? Something that would give her the power to blackmail people?"