Denise Swanson - Murder of a Small-Town Honey

Skye was thoroughly sick of the back of Chief Boyd's cruiser. She had already examined every inch of the floor, seat, and ceiling, and nothing had changed from her previ­ous occupancy. Now she sat holding a cold pack to the back of her head and watching the Scumble River Volunteer Fire Department at work.

The squad car was parked on the other side of Kins­man. Next to it was Skye's car. A police officer had asked her for the keys and moved it after the fire trucks started to arrive.

Roy Quirk had been on routine patrol when he'd spotted smoke coming from the railroad station. Driving past, he saw Skye's Impala and radioed in the fire. He was walking around the building trying to see what had happened to the car's owner when he'd heard Skye moaning.

When the firefighters arrived, the paramedic examined Skye and said that although she appeared to be okay, she should go to the Laurel hospital to check for a possible con­cussion. She had refused.

Her head was throbbing and she was considering the possibility of retrieving some Nuprin from her purse when Chief Boyd opened the cruiser's door.

He slid in next to her and shook his head. "Have you al­ways attracted this much trouble or does it only happen when you're in Scumble River?"

Skye bristled but held her temper. "None of this is my fault. Do you think I hit myself in the head and then set the place on fire?"

"No, but I do think you were sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." He turned sideways on the seat and scruti­nized her.

She met his gaze without flinching. "If you would admit that even a small possibility exists that someone other than Vince might have killed Honey, I wouldn't be forced into these situations."

"We're not getting anywhere like this. Besides, I have orders to bring you to the police station right away. We'll talk more there." He got out of the back and into the front of the car.

"Wait. Whose orders? How about my car? Am I under arrest?" Her questions became more panicky as Chief Boyd started the engine and pulled onto the road before answer­ing.

He looked at her in the rearview mirror. "Your mother, an officer will bring it to the station, and not quite yet."

"This is kidnapping, and I want my purse," Skye grum­bled.

Reaching beside him, he lifted her tote bag up so it was visible. "You can have it back when we get there ... after I've taken a look inside."

May was waiting for them in the doorway. Seeing Skye's soot-streaked face and torn clothes, she turned on Chief Boyd. "Walter Boyd, why isn't this girl in the hospi­tal?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "She refused to go, and you ordered me to bring her here."

"I'm okay, Mom. I just need a shower and a couple of Nuprin and I'll be fine."

Reaching up, May ran her fingers over the back of Skye's head. "Well, there's hardly any lump."

"Can I go home now?" Skye asked tiredly.

Chief Boyd patted her on the shoulder. "Why don't you wash up a little and wait for me in my office? I want to talk

to the fire chief and Roy before I let you go. I don't sup­pose you saw who hit you?"

Skye shook her head, which wasn't a good idea since that made the throbbing intensify. Once inside the ladies' room with the door safely locked, she took the envelope out from its hiding place and examined it. It was about six inches wide by nine inches long and had two bulges in the middle. She didn't have time to open it, so she stuck it back into her waistband.

Along with washing her face and smoothing her hair back into its barrette, Skye brushed off her clothing. A but­ton had been ripped from her shirt and it now gaped open, exposing her midriff. Her elbow peeked from the hole in her sleeve, and there was a large tear across the knee of her pants. She had no cuts, so her clothes must have protected her from the exposed glass and nails.

When she finished, Skye went to the chief's office. It was empty and dark. Flipping on the light, she looked around. His padded chair beckoned, and she sank wearily into its cushioned depths. She noticed that his middle drawer, the one with the lock, wasn't closed all the way.

Deciding to test it, Skye put her finger underneath and tugged. It came open with no resistance. A white business-size envelope lay on top of the pile. Its typed label showed it had been sent to Mrs. Walter Boyd at her home address. The return address was the Carle Clinic, a large medical fa­cility in Urbana.

Skye got up and looked out into the hall. There was no sign of the chief. Going back, she took the envelope out of the drawer, extracted the contents, and skimmed the pages quickly. It was a medical report concerning Darleen. The gist of it was that she was infertile due to a previous infec­tion in her fallopian tubes, most probably caused by an un­treated sexually transmitted disease.

Where have I heard that before? she wondered. Wasn't that what Simon said about Honey ?

Hearing footsteps in the corridor, Skye hastily stuffed the letter back into the envelope and the whole thing back - into the drawer. She was sliding it shut as Chief Boyd en­tered. She leaned against the desk and tried to look noncha­lant.

The chief walked around her and sat in his chair. Skye glanced down and saw a white corner sticking out of the closed drawer. Following her eyes, he frowned and opened the drawer, pulling the envelope out.

As his gaze went from Skye to the envelope, his voice became dangerously quiet. "Were you snooping?"

Her face mirrored her contrition. "I'm sorry. It was an awful thing to do. I'm just so worried about Vince."

Chief Boyd sighed and sat back. "Did you read it all?"

She nodded miserably.

"Darleen is obsessed with having a baby," he said, al­most to himself. "Oh, sit down, before you fall down," he said when he noticed Skye swaying.

Gratefully, she sank into a chair. "I am sorry, Chief. Does this have anything to do with why she got upset when I brought up Honey Adair?"

He tapped the edge of the report on his cheek. "Yeah. It seems Mike Young passed the disease to Darleen in high school before breaking up with her. From Honey's autopsy it seems that he may have given it to her too.

"She knew something was wrong back then but was too embarrassed to go to any doctor around here for treat­ment. The symptoms finally went away, and she forgot about it until a few years ago when we started trying to have a baby.

"Darleen did some reading on infertility and was afraid this might be the cause. We got this report a couple of days ago, confirming it."

Skye didn't know what to say so she repeated, "I'm so sorry for you both."

"Can you take Darleen off your list of suspects now? If

she was going to kill anyone, it would be Mike Young. Be­sides, she was with a group of kids from her class when the murder took place. They were staking out a good spot to see the parade."

Though Skye was nodding her head, she couldn't help but think, Then why was Honey blackmailing Darleen?

CHAPTER 24

Photographs and Memories

Skye entered her bedroom just as the digital display on her clock radio turned to three A.M. She swallowed some Nuprins, stuffed a handful of ice into a dish towel, and flung herself across the bed. When her alarm woke her at six-thirty, she was lying in a pool of water and her head felt as if a giant had been using it for a soccer ball. She struggled to the bathroom and took some more pills.

She decided to take a sick day and made the necessary calls. Before going back to sleep, she took the phone off the hook. When her doorbell started ringing, she tried to ignore it, but minutes later, her mother's voice jarred her awake.

"Yoo-hoo, Skye, are you here?"

Skye pushed her hair out of her face and opened one eye. May stood in the bedroom doorway.