Murder of a Creped Suzette

“Judging from the way she treated you, I don’t think Kallista likes any other women.” Wally squeezed Skye’s hand. “And by the way, thank you for going along with that whole production.”

“No problem.”

“Because Kallista is just a screen saver, not the real deal like you.”

“Screen saver?” Skye’s expression showed her confusion.

“Yeah.” Wally winked. “She looks good, but she’s useless.”

Skye smiled. “Anyway, I trust you and I appreciate you trusting me when I told you about having Simon take care of Toby.”

“Speaking of Toby, since he’s not an issue, and you stopped and fed Bingo before we went to see Flint, how about spending the night at my place?”

“Well . . . I think that’s a fine idea.” Skye stroked Wally’s thigh. “Especially since there was one thing missing from our picnic.”

“What’s that?”

“Dessert.”

CHAPTER 19

“I Can’t Stop Loving You”

Friday afternoon Skye felt as if her good luck might be back. So far, there had been no emergency parent conferences and no inconvenient student absences. If the next hour went well, she would be able to leave work at quitting time and make her four thirty appointment with Father Burns with time to spare. And since the priest had said he didn’t mind if she brought a dog along to the meeting, she didn’t need to ask Simon to keep Toby for another night.

Glancing at the clock, Skye saw she had fifteen minutes to grab a cup of coffee before she needed to fetch the boys for her group. She locked the file she’d been working on in the cabinet, gathered up the material she needed for the session, and headed for the staff room.

The lounge was located in the back half of the basement, and Skye wound her way through a warren of construction paper rolls hung on huge cylinders, a massive cage containing balls of various sizes, and several racks of cleaning supplies. The scent of dust, sweat, and ammonia mingled in her sinuses, and she sneezed three times in rapid succession.

From somewhere in the labyrinth a male voice yelled, “God bless you!”

“Thank you, Cameron,” Skye shouted back. The young custodian was often heard but not seen.

When Skye pushed open the door to the teachers’ lounge, she saw Yvonne Smith facing a bulletin board at the rear of the empty room. The plump middle-aged woman with a halo of brown and gray curls, half-glasses, and baby blue eyes was the epitome of everyone’s favorite teacher. The fact that she taught special education was a true bonus for children with special needs.

“Hi, Yvonne,” Skye said cheerfully. “How are you this afternoon?”

“Oh, my!” The teacher spun around, clutching her chest. “You startled me.”

“Sorry.” Skye wrinkled her brow. What was up with Yvonne? She was usually one of the most unflappable teachers Skye dealt with. “Is anything wrong?”

“No.” The older woman’s voice was sheepish. “I’ve just received a strange call.”

“Really?” Skye walked over to the coffee machine, put down the equipment she was carrying, and poured the dark brew into a cup. “What happened?”

“A parent was upset because her eight-year-old came home and told her he’d learned how to make babies in my class yesterday.”

“Okay—I know you aren’t teaching sex ed, especially to third graders.” Skye opened two packs of Sweet’N Low and shook them along with some powdered creamer into her coffee. “So why would her son say that?”

Yvonne shook her head. “Yesterday I taught a lesson on plurals, and told them that to make the word babies from baby you change the y to an i and add es. My question is, why didn’t the mom ask her son what he meant?”

“Because that would have been too easy.” Skye stirred her coffee.

“True,” Yvonne agreed, then added, “I’d better get going.” She strode toward the exit, pausing to say, “I’ll send my aide down with the boys for your group as soon as we finish our after-recess quiet time minutes.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Skye snapped a lid on the cup and gathered up her supplies. “I’ll be waiting for them in the usual spot.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Yvonne smiled. “I’m grateful that you’re seeing them. Those three are a handful. It will be nice to have a little uninterrupted time to devote to the others.” She waved and hurried away.

Skye followed at a slightly slower pace. Not having to fetch the kids from the far end of the building gave her a few extra minutes.

Emerging from the basement stairway, Skye balanced three game boxes, a bag of rewards, and her cup, then hiked down the main hall. Near the office she noticed a handmade poster that read:

The fifth graders will be presenting

Shakespeare’sMacbethin the gym Friday at 7:30 p.m.

The staff is encouraged to attend this tragedy.

Wondering if whoever made the sign had actually read it before putting it up, Skye giggled to herself as she headed into the elementary school’s oldest section. The smell of mildew hit her full force as she turned into the corridor, making her eyes water.