Murder of a Creped Suzette

“Was Rex able to ID the body?” Skye asked, almost not wanting to know.

“Yes and no,” Wally answered slowly. “He was able to say for certain that the clothes the victim had on were what Suzette had worn to work that day. And Mrs. Taylor identified a necklace on the body as Suzette’s. But to be absolutely certain we’ll have to wait for DNA tests. When the techs went through her room at the motor court, they picked up her toothbrush and razor for comparison DNA samples.”

“But for investigation purposes, you’re going with Suzette, right?”

“Yes,” Wally confirmed. “No one else is missing from the staff.”

“Did you get a chance to ask about Toby?” Skye crossed her fingers. Please, please, please, she begged silently. She really wanted to be able to hand the dog over to his rightful owner on her way to work.

“Yep. He was Suzette’s all right.” Wally paused, then said, “Did she mention any relatives when she talked to you the other night?”

“None that are living.”

“Son of a b—!” Wally cut himself off. “Mr. and Mrs. Taylor have no idea who her next of kin might be, and no emergency contact is listed on her employment records.”

“What will you do next?” Skye checked her watch. She really needed to get off the phone with Wally so she could start looking for someone to take care of Toby.

“We’ll talk to her colleagues, do a background check—you know, the usual. What time will you be finished today?”

“I should be able to leave by three thirty. Why?” Skye asked.

“Because I need to get your formal statement. Come straight to the station, okay?”

“Sure.” Skye bit her lip. “Uh, do you think maybe Mr. or Mrs. Taylor would want Suzette’s dog?” She thought fast. “I mean, if she brought Toby to work, they might be attached to him.”

“Not a chance.” Wally snorted. “Mrs. Taylor called him a disgusting mutt.”

“Shoot.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“I don’t know.” Skye had counted on someone connected with Suzette claiming him. “I guess, for now, I’ll keep him. At least until the case is closed or we find a member of Suzette’s family.”

“If we find her next of kin, they may not want him.” Wally’s voice was gentle. “Not everyone is as willing to take in strays as you are.”

“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” Skye checked her watch again. “Hey—sorry to cut you off, but I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Bye, sugar.”

As soon as she hung up, she remembered the message from the night before. Should she call Wally back? No. If it was that important, last night’s caller could have phoned Wally directly. Besides, she had to find a dog sitter ASAP.

Geez! Skye couldn’t believe she wasn’t able to think of anyone to take care of Toby. Her first choices—Trixie, Loretta, and Vince—all worked, as did all of her friends. She briefly considered Frannie Ryan, Justin Boward, and Xenia Craughwell, recent high school grads with whom she had remained close, but they were attending college or film school classes.

A fellow animal lover, her father would have been ideal. Too bad Jed was at an estate sale hoping to buy an old grain truck for cheap. Her godfather, Charlie Patu-kas, owner and manager of the Up A Lazy River Motor Court, was also gone for the day—in Joliet, buying new mattresses for the cottages.

Skye’s mother, who should have been the next logical choice, would have a hissy fit when she learned Skye had taken the dog. May would tell her to give him to Animal Control. It didn’t feel right asking her aunts or cousins for a favor. Skye just didn’t have that kind of relationship with any of them—especially considering the very real possibility that Toby might destroy their houses as he had hers.

Which left Owen. Trixie’s husband would make a perfect canine nanny. He worked at home, liked dogs, and wouldn’t be overly upset if Toby chewed up his possessions. There was only one—all right, two—problems. First, Skye felt a little awkward talking to him after the incident at the concert last Saturday, and second, Trixie must have already left for work, because no one was answering the phone at the Frayne residence.

Okay, that doesn’t mean he isn’t there. Trixie had said he rarely stepped into the house during the day. Owen was probably in the barn. Yep. That was where he was all right—there or in one of the other outbuildings. He wouldn’t be in the fields today. The corn was already in, and depending on the weather, it would be five to ten days before the soybeans could be harvested.

Blocking any alternative scenario from her thoughts, Skye gathered up Toby and his equipment and put him in the car, admonishing him, “Be a good boy and Uncle Owen will take you for a nice run.”

Returning to the house, Skye sprinted upstairs and opened the bedroom door to release Bingo from his imprisonment. He was curled up on the mattress and only deigned to open one eye and yawn before going back to sleep.

“Fine,” Skye muttered as she grabbed her tote bag and headed out. “Be like that.”