weekend, but this situation called for a more formal appearance. That pretty much left the three dresses she had packed to wear for the dinners, or the outfit she had intended to change into for Thanksgiving with her family. Other than that, all she had was the jeans and top she’d been wearing when she arrived.
The Thanksgiving outfit seemed the most reasonable choice, since it was obvious that no one would be leavingthe spa anytime soon, which meant Skye would be a no-show for the holiday meal.
As she slipped into a mocha knit skirt and matching shell, she sighed—not so much because she would miss seeing her family, but because instead of eating the fabulous, home-cooked dinner of turkey, sweet potatoes, and green bean casserole, she’d be dining on two celery sticks and a tofu turkey leg. She didn’t even want to think about what diet pumpkin pie would taste like.
On a good day her thick wavy hair took half an hour to dry and style. Since this wasn’t a good day, she had two options—a French braid or a ponytail. She chose a form of the latter, gathering it all on the crown of her head with a covered rubber band and forming it into a topknot of loose curls. A quick brush of bronzer and a coat of mascara and she was nearly dressed.
Brown kitten-heeled slides, a waist-length jacket of swirled cocoa, bittersweet, and ginger, and chunky gold earrings completed the outfit. Taking a deep breath, she exited the safe haven of her room, ready to face the music even if it was a dirge.
She was surprised to find the lobby empty except for Barb, the receptionist on duty behind the desk.
Skye greeted her and asked, “Where’d everyone go?”
“That yummy police chief had all the guests and the live-in staff escorted to their rooms. The day staff and Ms. Mar-got and Dr. Burnett are in the parlor. Everyone has to be interviewed by an officer before they can be released.”
“I’ll bet they talked to you first so you could handle the phones, right?”
“Right. No outgoing allowed, and all incoming directed to the answering machine. Hey, are you Skye Denison?”
“Yes.”
“Chief Boyd asked me to give you this.” The young woman handed over an envelope with the spa’s return address in the corner.
Skye slit the top with her fingernail and pulled out a sheet of paper. Wally’s note said that Simon had declared Esmé dead, the crime techs had processed the body, andSimon had taken it to the hospital in Laurel for the Medical Examiner to perform the autopsy. Wally also asked Skye to find him when she was free so she could help with the interviews.
“Do you know where Chief Boyd is?” Skye asked the clerk.
She consulted a list. “Each officer took a different treatment room. The chief is in the waxing room. Do you know where mat is?”
“Yes.” Skye nodded, memories of her hopping to Trixie’s rescue reddening her cheeks. “Thanks for your help.”
As she hurried toward the waxing room, Skye found her mother walking down the hall with Rudy, the groundskeeper, trailing her.
Skye stopped her. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”
May shook her head. “Wally and the other cops interviewed me, Trixie, and Loretta first so we could escort the others to and from their interrogations.”
“How about Bunny and Frannie?”
“They’re waiting their turn with the rest of the guests.” May gestured to Skye. “How about you?”
“I have orders to report to Wally, then help with the questioning.”
“So, this police consultant job is real, eh?” May raised an eyebrow. “I just thought it was something Wally made up to get into your pants.”
“Mother!” Skye’s face flamed as she caught the smirk on Rudy’s face.
May would pay for that remark. Skye wasn’t sure how or when, but it wouldn’t be forgotten or forgiven. Skye stalked away from her mother.
When she arrived, she knocked on the waxing room door and said, “It’s me, Skye.”
Wally called, “Come in,” and when she did,
The Thanksgiving outfit seemed the most reasonable choice, since it was obvious that no one would be leavingthe spa anytime soon, which meant Skye would be a no-show for the holiday meal.
As she slipped into a mocha knit skirt and matching shell, she sighed—not so much because she would miss seeing her family, but because instead of eating the fabulous, home-cooked dinner of turkey, sweet potatoes, and green bean casserole, she’d be dining on two celery sticks and a tofu turkey leg. She didn’t even want to think about what diet pumpkin pie would taste like.
On a good day her thick wavy hair took half an hour to dry and style. Since this wasn’t a good day, she had two options—a French braid or a ponytail. She chose a form of the latter, gathering it all on the crown of her head with a covered rubber band and forming it into a topknot of loose curls. A quick brush of bronzer and a coat of mascara and she was nearly dressed.
Brown kitten-heeled slides, a waist-length jacket of swirled cocoa, bittersweet, and ginger, and chunky gold earrings completed the outfit. Taking a deep breath, she exited the safe haven of her room, ready to face the music even if it was a dirge.
She was surprised to find the lobby empty except for Barb, the receptionist on duty behind the desk.
Skye greeted her and asked, “Where’d everyone go?”
“That yummy police chief had all the guests and the live-in staff escorted to their rooms. The day staff and Ms. Mar-got and Dr. Burnett are in the parlor. Everyone has to be interviewed by an officer before they can be released.”
“I’ll bet they talked to you first so you could handle the phones, right?”
“Right. No outgoing allowed, and all incoming directed to the answering machine. Hey, are you Skye Denison?”
“Yes.”
“Chief Boyd asked me to give you this.” The young woman handed over an envelope with the spa’s return address in the corner.
Skye slit the top with her fingernail and pulled out a sheet of paper. Wally’s note said that Simon had declared Esmé dead, the crime techs had processed the body, andSimon had taken it to the hospital in Laurel for the Medical Examiner to perform the autopsy. Wally also asked Skye to find him when she was free so she could help with the interviews.
“Do you know where Chief Boyd is?” Skye asked the clerk.
She consulted a list. “Each officer took a different treatment room. The chief is in the waxing room. Do you know where mat is?”
“Yes.” Skye nodded, memories of her hopping to Trixie’s rescue reddening her cheeks. “Thanks for your help.”
As she hurried toward the waxing room, Skye found her mother walking down the hall with Rudy, the groundskeeper, trailing her.
Skye stopped her. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”
May shook her head. “Wally and the other cops interviewed me, Trixie, and Loretta first so we could escort the others to and from their interrogations.”
“How about Bunny and Frannie?”
“They’re waiting their turn with the rest of the guests.” May gestured to Skye. “How about you?”
“I have orders to report to Wally, then help with the questioning.”
“So, this police consultant job is real, eh?” May raised an eyebrow. “I just thought it was something Wally made up to get into your pants.”
“Mother!” Skye’s face flamed as she caught the smirk on Rudy’s face.
May would pay for that remark. Skye wasn’t sure how or when, but it wouldn’t be forgotten or forgiven. Skye stalked away from her mother.
When she arrived, she knocked on the waxing room door and said, “It’s me, Skye.”
Wally called, “Come in,” and when she did,
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