Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery by Denise Swanson

parents
had
agreed to let her see their daughters, rushed out of her office and down the hall.
    Since Skye didn’t have time to hand out the documents herself, she was asking Opal Hill, the school secretary, to make sure the girls received the consent forms before they went home that afternoon when Trixie approached the front counter.
    “Where have you been?” Trixie asked Skye. She had recently decided to write a mystery novel in hopes of becoming the twenty-first-century Agatha Christie, so her next question made sense to Skye: “And why didn’t you call me after you found that body yesterday? It sounds like a great plot for my book.”
    “I’m sorry.” Skye crossed her fingers. “After I got done at the police station, I was just too exhausted to talk about it all again.” In truth, she hadn’t even thought to phone Trixie. She’d been too worried about Elijah, and too upset about the whole situation to discuss it—even with her BFF.
    “Come, tell me now.” Trixie grabbed Skye’s hand and tried to tug her down the hall. Which, considering that Trixie was five inches shorter and quite a bit lighter, wasn’t very effective.
    “I can’t.” Skye refused to budge, freeing her hand and heading toward the front door. “I’m due at the elementary school in fifteen minutes.”
    “Can’t you be a tiny bit late?” Trixie called after her. “I made chocolate cupcakes over the weekend, and I brought you one,” she coaxed. “It has lots of your favorite buttercream vanilla icing on top.”
    “Well…” Skye hesitated. She was starving, and had forgotten to pack a lunch. “Maybe a couple of minutes. I really should fill you in on an issue that concerns your cheerleaders.”
    “Is there a problem?” Trixie immediately sobered. As cheerleading coach, she usually knew any mischiefher girls were up to. “I haven’t heard anything.” She ran her hands through her short faun-colored hair, making it stick up like peaks of meringue. “Are they okay?”
    Skye filled her in as they walked toward the library, then added, “So I’m talking to all the girls tomorrow, with the exception of Ashley, whose parents refused to give their consent. Maybe you can get her to bring up the subject, and since you’re not a psychologist you don’t need permission, which means it wouldn’t be a problem if you two had a chat.”
    “Sure.” The two women entered the library’s storeroom and climbed on stools pulled up to the worktable. “She’s my student aide second hour.”
    Trixie pulled a square Tupperware container toward her, pried off the lid, and offered it to Skye. “So, tell me everything about the murder.”
    Skye summarized the weekend’s events around bites of cupcake, ending with, “Then I went into the basement’s utility closet to clean Bingo up, and there was Alexis lying dead on the floor.”
    “From what you’ve said”—Trixie swallowed the last crumb of her cupcake, and reached for another—“she was nearly universally disliked.”
    “So it seems.” Skye licked icing off her fingers, grabbed her tote, and stood up.
    “Do you think the murderer is that peculiar ex-doctor?” Trixie asked.
    “I hope not.” Skye edged toward the door, checking her watch. If she hurried, there was a chance that Caroline Greer, the grade school principal, wouldn’t notice that she was late. “At least five others had good reasons that I know about to dislike Alexis.”
    “The guy from speed dating, the jewelry maker, the twins, and the cat breeder,” Trixie ticked off, following Skye through the library.
    “Uh-huh.” Skye hurried down the hall toward the lobby. “And there’s a good chance there are others I’m not aware of.”
    “True.” Trixie trotted after Skye. “She sure sounds like a mean girl who never changed, so it could even be someone from her past.”
    “Probably not.” Skye pushed through the front door. “Bunny had bouncers at the entrance so no one but cat show and speed-dating