Murder of a Sweet Old Lady by Denise Swanson Read Free Book Online Page A

eyelids open.
    Simon kissed her softly on the lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow after you’ve been to the police station.” He turned and spoke over his shoulder as he went through the door. “Don’t forget you’re supposed to be there at eight.”
    Skye locked up behind him, turned, and made her way into the master bathroom. I should take a shower. She stripped off her clothes and stuffed them into the hamper. At least, I should wash my face. Grabbing her nightgown off the hook behind the door, she slipped it over her head. It would take only a second to put on some Fruition lotion. She sank into her pillows. Esteé Lauder would be so disappointed in me . . .
     
    Her alarm buzzed at six, its usual time. Skye reached out and slapped it off. A few seconds later she forced herself out of bed and grabbed the telephone. After letting the schools know she wouldn’t be in due to a death in the family, she crawled back between the sheets.
    The next time she awoke, the numbers on her clock radio glowed seven-thirty. She leaped out of bed and into the shower, stripping off her nightgown on the way. The hot water revived her and she soaped, shampooed, and rinsed quickly.
    After toweling her body and hair, she threw on underclothes then stood at her closet, stymied. What should she wear to be fingerprinted, taking into account it was the day after her grandmother died and it was going to be hotter than heck out?
    As she contemplated her inadequate wardrobe, her glance fell on the clock. Damn, she was going to be late and she still hadn’t done her hair or put on any makeup.
    Skye dialed the nonemergency number for the police. She had it memorized since she often called her mother when May was working at the station.
    Thea Jones, another of Scumble River’s dispatchers, answered. At the sound of Skye’s voice she said, “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for your family. You know, we all love May. She’s gonna take it real hard. She was real close to her mama.”
    “Thanks, Thea. Could you let Chief Boyd know I’m going to be a little late? He wanted me there at eight, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to make it until eight-thirty or quarter to nine.” Skye stretched the cord and grabbed a black-and-white gingham skort outfit from her closet.
    “Sure, honey. You take your time. That man ain’t got nothin’ else to do anyways.”
    The doorbell rang as Skye hung up the phone. She grabbed her robe and fought her way into it as she ran to the foyer. May’s face was framed in the side window.
    Skye released all the locks and ushered her mother inside. “Hi, what are you doing here so early?” As soon as the words passed her lips, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.
    “Early? You call five to eight early? We’ve got to do something about those slovenly habits you picked up in New Orleans.”
    Skye edged back toward her bedroom. “Okay, okay. What’s up?”
    “I came to drive you to the police station. Your dad’s still working on the tires.” May followed closely on Skye’s heels. “What are you wearing?” May was dressed impeccably in navy cotton slacks and a white blouse.
    Skye held up the ensemble she had picked out.
    May puckered her mouth. “You know, honey, since you’ve gained weight, do you really think you should wear things that are sleeveless and above the knee?”
    Skye frowned. About eighteen months ago she had decided to exit from the diet roller coaster. At first she had gained quite a bit of weight, but then she’d reached her setpoint. She exercised regularly and now felt comfortable with who she was.
    Ignoring her mother, Skye took the outfit and walked into the bathroom. When she emerged twenty minutes later, she was wearing her original choice, had styled her hair in a French braid, and wore her usual makeup.
    May didn’t comment.
     
    Thea grabbed May in a hug as soon as Skye and her mother entered the police station, then drew May behind the counter, sat her down, and began to converse