Murder of a Needled Knitter Read online

  Before Skye could work herself into a state of panic, Wally strolled up, deposited their drinks on the small table next to her, and dropped to his knees beside her chair.

  He nuzzled her neck, and said, “I like your hair up like this.”

  “You just like the fact that it didn’t take me an hour to get ready,” Skye teased. She’d twisted her mass of chestnut curls into a knot on top of her head, figuring there was no use wasting time with a flat iron when she was spending the afternoon in the heat and humidity.

  “True,” Wally admitted, trailing kisses down her cleavage while he caressed her leg. “You’re beautiful without all the extra fuss.”

  Distracted by the sensation of his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh, Skye made a noncommittal noise. Wally had won her heart years ago, but their wedding vows had unlocked her soul. She’d thought the physical attraction between them couldn’t get any hotter, but the freedom to enjoy each other without the lingering guilt—or need to go to confession—had ratcheted the whole experience up to an entirely new level.

  Wally joined Skye on the double lounge chair and they were indulging in some serious lip lock when she heard a sniggering voice yell, “Get a room!”

  Color flooding her cheeks, Skye jerked away from Wally and saw a crowd of kids staring at them. She deliberately turned her head away from the group, pretending indifference to their presence, and discreetly checked to make sure that her bathing suit still covered every body part it was intended to conceal. Wally opened his mouth to say something, but Skye squeezed his hand and gave a tiny headshake. She’d been a school psychologist for enough years to know better than to engage a pack of adolescents on the prowl.

  Ignoring the teens, Skye said in a conversational tone, “Let’s take our drinks and walk over to the observation tower. I want to get some panoramic shots with my new camera. The island information flyer in the Diamond Dialogue said the view is breathtaking.”

  “Fine,” Wally grumbled, then stood and gave Skye a hand to assist her to her feet. “But I told you we should have rented a bungalow.”

  “Two hundred dollars for a hut the size of a walk-in closet?” Growing up as part of a farming family, Skye had learned not to blow extra cash on foolishness. And as an employee of the public school system, she earned an income that barely allowed her to make ends meet. Frugality was now second nature to her. “And we’d only use the bungalow for three or four hours. I don’t think so.”

  “We can afford to indulge ourselves on our honeymoon,” Wally insisted. “And it would have been worth it to have some privacy.”

  “We already have a suite on the ship,” Skye protested. “Which I love.” She still wasn’t used to Wally’s attitude about money. He was by no means a spendthrift, living off his salary as the Scumble River police chief, but since he’d grown up the son of a Texas oil millionaire, his idea of what was extravagant and Skye’s idea tended to be wildly divergent. “But we really could have been just as comfortable in a nice cabin with a balcony, instead of a suite.”

  “Maybe.” Wally helped Skye on with her cover-up, handed her the margarita he’d put on the table, and picked up his beer. “But I wanted the best for you.” He smiled down at her. “Besides, I told you I got a really good deal from the travel agent in town.”

  “Why was that?” Skye matched her steps to Wally’s long strides as they headed toward the observation tower. “I would have thought a New Year’s cruise would have been especially popular.”

  “Sure.” Wally took a swig of his Kalik. “But the travel agent said that because she had a big group going, we could get a special rate.”

  “I think I remember Owen saying he got a good price for the cruise he and Trixie are taking for the same reason.” Skye felt a flicker of unease run up her spine. Trixie Frayne was her best friend, and she loved the pixyish school librarian like a sister, but she wanted to be alone with her new husband, not part of a foursome.

  “And you don’t remember the name of the ship Trixie and Owen are on this week?” A crease furrowed Wally’s forehead. “Surely if it was the Diamond Countess that would ring a bell, right?”

  “I don’t think she ever told me the name.” Skye’s expression was shamefaced. “And like I said when you asked before, I was too involved in wedding plans to notice. Not a very good friend, I know.”

  “I’m sure Trixie understood that you were preoccupied.” Wally put an arm around her, then joked, “As bridezillas go, you seemed pretty mild.”

  “Thanks a lot, mister.” Skye swatted his shoulder with her free hand. “Considering that we had to solve a murder the week of our wedding, I think I was darn near serene and deserve a trophy.”

  “I’ve got a trophy for you.” Wally leered at her playfully. “But you’ll have to wait until we get back to our wastefully extravagant suite to get it.”

  They continued to banter until they reached a walkway sign that read the CROW’S NEST. As they got closer, Skye saw that the noisy bunch that had been in the dining room the previous night was monopolizing the observation tower. Three or four at a time were taking turns posing on the wooden steps while another person took their photos.

  As Wally and Skye waited for the people to get out of the way, Skye gazed at a woman in her late fifties wearing a cowgirl hat that appeared to be made out of neon pink yarn.

  The cowgirl was speaking to her companion, who had on a similar hat in lime green. “Why is Guinevere always late? Someone should say something to her about it.”

  “I don’t know.” The friend rocked back and forth on her heels. “But Guinevere is a tough cookie. I’d be a little scared to cross her.”

  “Ah.” Ms. Pink Hat shook her head. “She ain’t all that tough. My grandma was tough. She buried four husbands.” The woman paused, then added, “And three were only napping.”

  After a polite laugh, Ms. Lime Hat said, “I have no idea why Guinevere is always late, but it’s freaking annoying.”

  “It is a bit irritating.” Another woman, this one in her early forties and wearing a crisp khaki shorts outfit, dark glasses, and white gloves, joined the conversation.

  Skye blinked at the latter. No one had told her that this was a formal beach party. She grinned at the notion of fancy hats and tea cakes in the sand, then returned her attention to the scene in front of her.

  The woman adjusted her sunglasses, and said in a soft Southern drawl, “This is our fourth activity, and the fact that the leader hasn’t arrived on time for any of them is a little inconsiderate.”

  “Inconsiderate? Hell, Ella Ann, you’re way too nice.” Ms. Pink Hat snorted. “Where I come from it’s a hangin’ offense.”

  The other two women laughed their agreement and Ms. Lime Hat said, “Some people just need to be taught a lesson in the worst way.”

  The mob continued to block Skye and Wally’s egress to the platform above, and finally Wally cleared his throat. Several seconds went by, and when no one offered to make room for them to pass, he said, “Excuse us. Could you move over? We’d like to get by.”

  There was no response. It was almost as if Skye and Wally were invisible.

  Wally’s mouth tightened and he leaned toward Skye and whispered, “I sure hope this crowd isn’t going to be a problem during the whole cruise.”

  “Maybe they won’t be too bad,” Skye murmured, watching as a beautiful woman in her early forties arrived. She had a camera around her neck, but it didn’t obscure the view of the décolletage revealed by her low-cut tank top.

  The new arrival ignored the angry mutterings about her tardiness, murmuring, “Birdbrains of a feather sure flock together.” She curled her lips in disgust and began assembling everyone on the steps. When she was satisfied with the arrangement, she handed the large poster she’d been carrying to a woman in front. While the group leader lined up her shot, Skye read the sign. Printed in a nautical blue was the phra
se WELCOME U-KNITTED NATIONS. Centered underneath were the words DIAMOND COUNTESS 2007.

  Another flash of apprehension trickled down Skye’s vertebrae. This was a knitting group, hence the knitted cowboy hats. Her mom and dad were taking a cruise with May’s knitting group. She had seen her mother yesterday. Oh. My. God. Her parents were on her honeymoon!

  CHAPTER 2

  Anchors Aweigh

  “I’m telling you, my mother and father are definitely aboard the Diamond Countess,” Skye insisted for the fiftieth time, as she kept her eyes peeled for a glimpse of them.

  She’d been repeating this same sentence to Wally every few minutes for the past three hours while they ate a light lunch at the outdoor café and relaxed on their double chaise, enjoying the warm sunshine. The only time she’d stopped was when they were snorkeling off the island’s white-sand beach, and she had started up again as soon as her head was above water.

  Wally, on the other hand, had been maintaining that there must be more than one knitting cruise that her folks could have taken. But now, as he and Skye stepped onto the tender that would take them back to the cruise liner, he finally admitted, “Even if they are here, it’s a big ship.” When the boat suddenly rocked from side to side and Skye nearly fell, he helped her take a seat and added, “There’s a good chance we’ll never run into them.”

  “Seriously?” Skye looked at her new husband and wondered how he could be so clueless. “You’ve worked with my mom for how many years? Ten? Twelve? But you still don’t really know her, do you?” May was employed as a dispatcher on the police force Wally commanded. “If my mother’s on board, and I’m pretty darn sure she is, she planned this whole so-called coincidence, and she has every intention of ‘running into us’ as often as possible. For all we know, she and Dad are in a cabin on our deck—or even next door to us.”

  “But why?” Wally slid an arm around Skye’s shoulders, pulling her against him as the tender shot away from the dock. “May would have to be aware that her showing up on your honeymoon would tick you off.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Skye felt her stomach do a loop-the-loop and wondered if it was motion sickness. The Sea-Bands she wore around her wrist, which utilized acupressure to control symptoms of nausea, and the Dramamine, a good old-fashioned drug, had kept her feeling fine, but suddenly she thought she might vomit. “Too bad my mother views the world through the distorted Saran Wrap vision of her own reality. Her version of what’s real and everyone-else-on-the-planet’s version aren’t the same.”

  “Well . . .” Wally tugged at the neck of his T-shirt as the truth started to sink in.

  “Mom changes the facts to suit herself.” Skye blew out an exasperated breath of air. “In her mind, we’ll be thrilled she surprised us, happy to see her and Dad, and excited to have them join us at dinner and on shore excursions. I wouldn’t be at all shocked to find her in our suite when we get back.”

  “May wouldn’t really do that.” When the tender struck a wave and Skye slid a few inches away from him, Wally tightened his grip and drew her back to his side. “Jed wouldn’t let her.” Wally’s protests were getting feebler, and he implored his new wife, “Would she?”

  “Yep.” Skye smiled grimly. “You, my darling, are getting your first taste of Mom the Master Manipulator.” Skye patted his knee. “From the moment she spotted those cruise brochures on your desk, you were her target. When you took the bait and went to the travel agent that she recommended, she had you hooked. Then it was just a matter of allowing you enough line. By telling you how much you could save with the group rate and how much I’d love staying in a suite, she reeled you in like a true pro angler.”

  Skye watched the emotions play across Wally’s handsome face as he gave in and accepted that what she had been telling him was true. She opened her mouth, but snapped it shut, deciding he needed time to process the implications of their situation.

  Wally remained silent as the tender pulled alongside the ship. Climbing the metal gangway to the deck entrance, he started to say something but stopped. As he put their beach bag on the conveyor belt to be X-rayed, he tried again but couldn’t seem to get the words past his lips, and instead walked mutely through the security gate.

  Once he and Skye were in the elevator, Wally finally managed to form the question he’d been fighting to avoid. “Do you think Trixie and Owen are here, too?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Skye pinched the bridge of her nose as they exited onto the Dolphin Deck and headed down the long corridor to their aft suite. “Didn’t you realize that when the travel agent said she had a large group going, it meant we might be traveling with half the inhabitants of Scumble River?”

  “Son of a buck!” Wally smacked the metal wall next to the suite’s entrance and several sheets of paper fell from the diamond-shaped holder affixed there.

  Skye picked up the pages, then used her key card to open the door.

  “How in blue blazes could I have been so incredibly stupid?” Wally berated himself as he followed her into their cabin, threw the beach bag he’d been carrying on the floor, and flopped onto the sofa clutching his head. “Why didn’t I realize what I was getting us into?”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Skye placed flyers advertising the art auction, gift shop specials, and spa treatments on the wet bar near a tray of miniature booze bottles, then joined him on the couch. “Even though you’ve lived in town for over twenty years, you didn’t grow up in Scumble River and you don’t have family in the area, so you forget that everyone is either related to everyone else or at least knows someone whose cousin married that person’s sister’s uncle’s daughter.”

  “That’s no excuse.” Wally leaned back and closed his eyes as Skye rubbed his temples. “The woman at the agency said she had a large group.” He groaned and Skye kept up her massage. “Where did I think the people in the large group were coming from? The moon?”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and most of the others will be from the neighboring communities,” Skye comforted him. “After all, there aren’t any other travel agencies in a forty-mile radius. I think the one in Laurel is the next closest, so the Scumble River agency probably pulls from at least half a dozen or so of the towns around us.”

  “True.” Wally brightened, then slumped. “But the real problem is your parents and the Fraynes. Most people will just say hi if they see us, but your folks will want to spend time with us.”

  “Now you understand the difficulty.” Skye pulled him off the sofa, through the bedroom, and into the enormous marble bathroom. “Trixie and Owen will understand if we tell them we want to be alone, and it might actually be fun to hang out with them once in a while.”

  “Yeah.” Wally tugged off his T-shirt. “There are a few excursions that looked good but would be more fun with another couple.”

  “Unfortunately, Mom won’t be so considerate. She’ll want to move in here with us. Or at least spend all her waking hours with me. The terms Helicopter Parent and Velcro Mom were coined just for her.” Skye pressed herself against Wally’s chest and ran her fingers through the crisp black hair at his temples. She loved the trace of gray feathered above his ears. “Which means we have to outsmart her.”

  “How?” Wally swept Skye’s cover-up over her head and threw it behind them, then unhooked the top of her swimsuit.

  “Good question.” Skye turned on the water in the huge walk-in shower, then untied the drawstring on his trunks and yanked them down. “But let’s think of that after we get rid of the sand. I think I might have brought back half the shore with me. And while I enjoyed the beach, I’m not nearly as thrilled about it in its present location.” She shimmied out of her swimsuit bottoms.

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Wally grinned and followed her into the stall. “I bet we’ll come up with a great way to avoid your mother once we relieve some tension.” He poured a dollop of body wash into his palm. “You kno
w, take the edge off a little bit.”

  “I’m sure we will,” Skye cooed as he ran his soapy hands over her back, then commented with a wicked smile, “It’s getting a little steamy in here. We should have turned on the exhaust fan.”

  “We don’t really need to see anything.” Wally’s fingers continued their journey south. “We can just feel our way to paradise.”

  • • •

  “It’s a good thing we made dinner reservations for seven thirty. If we’d decided on six thirty, we’d never make it,” Skye commented as she stepped into her black lace dress. “I can’t believe how fast the time went after we got back from the island. And I still haven’t gotten us completely unpacked. Maybe yesterday I should have accepted the butler’s offer to do it for us.”

  “I told you to take advantage of all the amenities.” Wally zipped her up. “But I’ll never forget the look on that poor guy’s face when you said you didn’t want anyone but me handling your underwear.”

  Skye giggled. “That popped out before I could stop it.”

  “We could always order room service.” Wally stood in front of the closet and frowned into the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “One of the perks of a suite is being able to order from any dining room menu and have the food served on our balcony.”

  “I definitely want to do that sometime. It might be fun to try when we sail away from a port or maybe when we’re at sea and all the stars are out.” Skye slid on high-heeled silver sandals. “But this is formal night and I can’t wait to see everyone dressed up.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Wally muttered as he struggled with his bowtie. “We wouldn’t want to miss that. I’m sure it’s quite a show.”

  “Besides, eating this late, we’re safe from my mother.” Skye fastened the necklace that Wally had given her as a wedding present and adjusted the two swirling platinum ribbons—one lined with shimmering baguette diamonds, and the other with glittering round diamonds forming an X—to lie at the base of her throat. “No way on Earth will she be able to get Dad to wait past five for his supper.”