Die Me a River Page 14

  “You’ve never visited Scumble River before?” Wally watched the man carefully.

  “My territory is generally southern Illinois.” Phillip glanced at Thea standing behind the counter and clearly listening to every word. “Can we talk somewhere in private?”

  Stepping aside, Wally said, “Come on back. We can use the break room.” Which was also the interrogation room, but Wally didn’t mention that fact.

  “Great.” Phillip crossed the threshold and Wally caught a whiff of Phantom, the same pine, cedar leaf, and juniper berry body wash that Skye had bought him duty-free on their honeymoon cruise. The guy had expensive taste.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “That would be terrific. I’m probably already over-caffeinated, but I’ll need all the help I can get to keep me awake on the drive back.” He scrubbed his eyes with his fist. “We’ve been so busy since the tornadoes went through Illinois. I never seem to get enough sleep.”

  “I know what that’s like.” Wally led the guy down a short hallway and into the break room. He flipped on the switch and the overhead lights sputtered to life. Nodding to the table, he said, “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” Phillip settled on one of the chairs and placed his cell on the tabletop in front of him, keeping a finger on it as if he felt the need to be tethered to it at all times.

  Wally poured them each a cup of coffee and asked, “Cream or sugar?”

  “Black.”

  Wally nodded and placed the mug in front of Phillip. He sat across from the man and took a sip from his cup, waiting to see what the guy wanted. In his experience, it was unusual for an ex to show up at the police station concerned about a spouse’s death.

  As the silence lengthened, Phillip squirmed and finally said, “I was shocked to hear about Paige.”

  “I can imagine.” Wally itched to take notes but didn’t want to put the guy on guard.

  “The VP said the officer who contacted him didn’t have any details.” Phillip clasped his hands around his mug as if he were cold. “Is there anything new since then?”

  “Nothing I can share.” Wally scratched the stubble on his jaw and tried to sound nonthreatening. “How long had you and your ex-wife been divorced?”

  “We aren’t,” Phillip said, then quickly added, “At least not quite. We were still waiting for all the i’s to be dotted and the t’s to be crossed.”

  “I see.” Wally understood. It had taken forever for his own divorce to be finalized. Of course, it hadn’t helped that his ex had run off with another man and disappeared into the wilds of Alaska. Shaking off a spark of empathy, Wally said, “Considering you and Paige weren’t together anymore, I’m not sure why you’re here.”

  “Me either.” Phillip thrust his fingers through his expensively styled blond hair. “I guess it’s just so hard to believe.”

  “You and your wife worked for the same company,” Wally said, watching the other man closely. “Was that awkward after your separation?”

  “A little.” Phillip fiddled with his phone. “Luckily, we weren’t in the same department, so it wasn’t too bad.” He rolled his eyes. “Except for the gossip. But that had pretty much died down.”

  “I suppose a company is like a small town.” Wally sat back. “Rumors fly around here faster than a swarm of bees after a bear that stole their honey.”

  “Yeah.” Phillip sighed. “The divorce was big news for a while.”

  Wally laced his fingers on the tabletop. “Since you’re here, I’d like to try to get a better picture of Paige’s life.”

  “Okay.” Phillip tilted his head. “What would you like to know?”

  “How did she get along with her colleagues?” Wally knew that she was the head of a department, but not how it was structured.

  “I won’t lie to you, she was a tough boss.” Phillip grimaced. “Paige expected her people to give a hundred and fifty percent.”

  “I understand that someone else was originally assigned to handle the claims in Scumble River.” Wally kept his tone casual. “Do you know why Paige ended up here? Was that her decision or an order from a higher-up?”

  “I would assume it was Paige’s choice.” Phillip exhaled loudly. “It’s not something our company would ever admit, and I’ll deny it if you quote me, but the fewer number of claims that are approved, the better her department looks to the bigwigs. And the first adjuster she sent here rubber-stamped just about every single claim.”

  “Was the guy she replaced upset with her decision to take over?”

  “That’s hard to say.” Phillip shrugged. “He seemed okay with it, but he did put in for a transfer to another department.”

  Wally made a mental note to look into that guy. “Was there anyone in the company or anyone in her personal life that had a problem with Paige?”

  “Not more than the usual type of work things,” Phillip said. “And I don’t know much about her personal life anymore.”

  “Were either of you involved in another relationship that caused your divorce?” Wally asked.

  “No.” Phillip stared over Wally’s head. “We just grew apart.”

  “How long were you and Paige married?” Wally stole a look at his watch. He couldn’t rush this, but he really wanted to get home in time to help Skye feed the twins and give them their baths.

  “Nearly fifteen years.” Phillip took a sip of coffee. “We met when she first came to work for Homestead right after college. I’d already been there for a while and she started off as my intern. There was chemistry between us from the beginning, but we couldn’t act on it until the internship was over and she went to work for another department.”

  Wally asked a few more questions, but Phillip maintained that he didn’t know if Paige had any enemies.

  Finally, Phillip circled around to his original inquiry and said, “Isn’t there anything you can tell me about Paige’s death?”

  “She was in the bowling alley’s video gaming lounge after hours when an explosive device was triggered. She was crushed beneath the debris,” Wally said carefully. “But that’s all I’m at liberty to release at this point.”

  “From your questions about her relationships, I’m wondering if you believe that Paige was the target of the bomb.” Phillip’s gaze was sharp.

  “It’s one of our working theories.” Wally drained his coffee cup. “However, we are also looking into other possibilities.”

  “What are they?”

  “Sorry.” Wally shook his head and stood. “I’m afraid we aren’t ready to share that information.”

  “Of course.” Phillip nodded, rose from his seat, and joined Wally. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Chief.”

  “Glad to do it.” Wally and Phillip walked to the lobby and Wally said, “I’ll be in touch if I think of any more questions.”

  “Absolutely.” Phillip shook Wally’s hand and exited the station.

  Wally stared at his retreating figure, then whipped out his notepad and jotted down everything he could remember from the interview. The vic’s ex—or almost ex—husband had seemed like a nice guy. But then, so had Ted Bundy.

  Chapter 14

  Baby Love

  Skye pushed the double stroller down the recently installed faux wooden walkway. The party rental company had set up the path at the same time they’d erected the huge, white tent that now took up a great deal of the yard between the motor home and where the new house was being built.

  She stopped to retract the stroller’s bright-red canopy so the twins could enjoy the sunshine, and both infants cooed their delight. The long-awaited autumn weather had finally arrived overnight, and Skye and her babies were relishing the cooler, less humid conditions.

  Skye gazed around their property. The tornado had knocked down most of their trees and the flowers had been destroyed by high winds. But a fe
w bushes had been spared, including Skye’s favorite lilac, which she hoped would still bloom in the spring.

  Wally had cut the grass over the weekend, unusual for this late in the year, but not unheard of for Illinois. Now the lush green lawn’s morning dew was gilded by beams of light pouring down from the heavens. It almost looked like a fairy garden.

  The building crew had yet to arrive to work on the new house and the road in front of their property didn’t see a whole lot of traffic, so for one brief moment, Skye reveled in the silence.

  The squawking of a blue jay reminded Skye of the argument that she and Wally had that morning and she frowned. Although she had told him about Bunny’s not-quite-ex-boyfriend’s possible criminal connections the night before, they hadn’t resolved the issue of who had a right to know about Bunny’s situation. Wally had insisted his father should be on the list, but Skye had been equally adamant that they had no justification for revealing Bunny’s secret to someone not actively involved in the investigation.

  During breakfast, Skye and Wally had resumed their disagreement over whether to inform his father about Aiden O’Twomey. Skye maintained that she had been given the facts as an employee of the police department, and sharing that information with Carson was nothing less than gossiping. However, after a prolonged discussion, Wally won Skye over to his side when he pointed out that his dad could be in danger. Still, she had asked that Wally give Bunny a chance to be the one to tell Carson, and Wally had given the older woman until noon today.

  Skye had immediately conveyed that deadline to Bunny, who grumbled but agreed. By the time Skye had gotten off the phone with the complaining redhead, it was already past nine, and she’d hurriedly bundled the twins into their stroller and set off to take a look at what the rental company had accomplished yesterday afternoon.

  Her mom was due to arrive at nine thirty and Skye wanted to have some time to get an impression of the arrangements before May completely took over the preparations. Not that she had any hope of changing her mother’s mind…

  As Skye approached the massive tent, she blinked when she saw its sidewalls featured cathedral windows. What the heck! St. Francis was only a church. Was May trying to outdo Father Burns?

  Shaking her head, Skye wheeled the stroller inside. Lots and lots of round tables were arranged in an arc around a long rectangular table. She did a quick count. Twenty tables, times eight chairs each—shoot!—her mother was expecting a hundred and sixty guests. Skye had a large extended family, and between her and Wally, they had a lot of friends, but that was a ridiculous amount of people for a baby shower—even if it was combined with a christening.

  Taking it all in, Skye shook her head at the extravagance. No expense had been spared. The setting might be in a tent, but it wouldn’t be any casual picnic. The chairs weren’t the normal flimsy, plastic folding ones—these were sturdy wood with padded seats and backs adorned in huge pink and blue bows. Matching pink and blue silk cloth had been draped in a swirl pattern behind the head table and twinkle lights had been twisted through the loops.

  Skye caught a sparkle and craned her neck. Sunlight shining through the plastic windows illuminated crystal chandeliers hanging from the tent’s ceiling. What was next? A grand piano?

  Skye brushed her finger across her daughter’s cheek and said, “Grandma has gone out of her mind and I don’t even want to think about the rest of her decorating plans.” Kissing the top of her son’s head, she added, “At least with you around, she can’t do it all in neon pink.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Although there was no doubt May was the driving force behind the over-the-top arrangements, she had to have a partner in crime. There was no way that her parents could afford all this. Carson had to be picking up the tab for the party.

  Skye squatted in front of the twins and said, “Your daddy is going to have to talk to your grandfather and get him to stop spending so much money on us. I liked it better when we had to be careful that no one found out about your daddy’s family money.” She paused, then admitted, “Except for the Mercedes. I adore driving the Benz. And the RV. I’d hate to see where we would be living without the motor home.” She sighed and added, “Okay, the house, too. I love our new house.”

  Although Skye knew her father-in-law planned to pay for the nanny, she and Wally could handle the woman’s salary themselves and they needed to insist on doing so. They also had to put the brakes on Carson’s generosity in other matters as well. She didn’t want her children growing up as spoiled brats. She’d seen too many of those kinds of kids in her job as a school psychologist.

  Hearing her mother’s voice talking to someone, Skye kissed both babies, then straightened from her crouch to see who May had brought with her.

  Skye turned just in time to see her mom holding the door as Cora Denison, Skye’s grandmother, entered. Skye squealed and ran over to give her grandma a hug. Nearing ninety, Cora had buried a husband, two stillborn babies, and a teenage grandson. Up until a year or so ago, she’d made a batch of her famous Parker House rolls nearly every Sunday.

  Cora had always been a big woman, tall, sturdy, and strong as any man, but nowadays she seemed frailer every time Skye visited. And Cora rarely left her house anymore, so Skye was thrilled to see her with May.

  Cora leaned heavily on her cane, but used her free arm to return Skye’s embrace. Skye breathed in the unique vanilla, cinnamon, and fruit scent of her grandmother. Cora might not bake anymore, but after seventy years of making her famous apple slices, the sweet fragrance had sunk into her pores.

  Once she’d kissed Skye, Cora demanded, “Where are my great-grandbabies?”

  “Right here.” Skye pushed the stroller over to her grandmother and asked, “Would you like to hold them?”

  “Maybe later.” Cora chuckled. “Never disturb a quiet baby.”

  “The voice of experience.” Skye beamed.

  “Too bad,” Cora said with a sigh. “Age is such a high price to pay for knowledge.”

  “I bet you could still whip Dad and Uncle Wiley into shape like you used to in the olden days,” Skye reassured her grandmother.

  “I don’t know.” Cora winked. “Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.”

  Skye giggled, then asked, “Would you like to sit down?” Cora nodded and Skye said, “One chair coming up.”

  Skye hurried to fetch her grandmother a seat, wondering if Cora really didn’t want to wake the babies or if she felt she was just too weak to hold them.

  Once Cora was comfortable, May grabbed Skye’s hand. Her mother’s fingers were cool against hers and Skye shivered, snatching back her hand.

  “You know that I’m always cold.” May shrugged, then said, “Grandma Denison can keep an eye on the babies while we take a look at what the party company accomplished.”

  After the tent and its contents had passed May’s inspection, they rejoined Cora, and Skye asked, “Do you want to go into the RV? We can have something to drink and visit for a while.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea,” Cora answered. “But I’m not sure I can make it up the RV’s front steps. Let’s just sit here.”

  “Coffee for me,” May said. Then she added, “You might as well get that plate of lemon bars from the car, too. We can munch on them while we talk.” She pulled the twins’ stroller closer and waved Skye away. “I’ll watch the babies. You’re lucky they’re so good. You were colicky and nearly drove me crazy with your constant crying.”

  “I guess I am.” Skye ignored her mother’s complaint. She’d heard about how difficult a baby she’d been so many times, she no longer paid any attention to May’s grumbles. “The twins usually only cry if they’re hungry, need a diaper change, or are overtired.”

  When Skye returned with the refreshments, she found her mother with a baby in each arm. Cora was shaking a set of plastic keys in front of them both. Happy to see her grandmother interacting with th
e twins, Skye slid the tray onto the table and took a seat.

  After taking a sip of her decaf, Skye looked at her mom and said, “This tent is bigger than the American Legion banquet hall. Just how many people are you expecting to come to this shindig?”

  “About a hundred and fifty,” May said, settling the dozing twins back into their stroller. “And before you complain, I only invited family. And a few of mine and your father’s closest friends.” She paused. “And of course our longtime neighbors.”

  “Seriously?” Skye raised a brow. “There can’t be that many relatives.”

  “How soon they forget,” May tsked. “We had this same conversation when we were planning your wedding. Think about how many first, second, and third cousins you have. We can’t leave any of them out.” She put her hands up with her palms to Skye. “And it’s not as if you didn’t have folks on your christening list that could have been excluded.”

  “Like who?” Skye frowned. She’d given her mom the names of about fifty people, but most of them had been the same family members that May was already inviting to the shower. “I only had a few friends and school colleagues on it that you might not have previously thought to include.”

  “The half a dozen Dooziers for one.” May’s mouth puckered in distaste. “Why you would want that trashy family in attendance is beyond me.”

  As her mother continued to complain about the Skye’s choice of guests, Skye’s thoughts wandered. Her relationship with the Dooziers was hard to explain. They had their own little kingdom on the banks of the Scumble River, and as with so many empires, its rulers could do no wrong. Laws only applied to the peasants, and whoever wasn’t a part of the royal family was expected to pay tribute. Their philosophy was the Dooziers were entitled to whatever they could grab.

  For some reason, Earl, the king of Doozierland, had adopted Skye. She wasn’t sure if it was because he saw her as the ambassador between his domain and the rest of the world—a role she often had to assume within the school system—or because he’d saved her life on more than one occasion. Whatever the reason, he treated Skye like one of his knights, or maybe like one of his faithful hounds.