Murder of a Bookstore Babe

“Thank God, no.” Charlie’s voice boomed. “The building inspector approved their new apartment yesterday, and they moved that afternoon.”

“You said you were mad that they were going to be taking guests from you with their B and B rooms.” Skye took a quick scan of the grill. Two men shared a booth, and a teenager sat at the counter. No one appeared to be paying them any attention. “Why aren’t you sorry to lose their business?”

“It dawned on me that the kind of people who would stay with them aren’t the kind that rent rooms at motor courts.” Charlie took a slurp of his milk shake. “Erwin told me that they’re going to have murder mystery and romance weekends and that kind of crap. What the hell, they might even bring in some trade.”

“Wonderful.” Skye blew out an inward sigh of relief. That removed Charlie’s motive; now, if he had an alibi, everything would be perfect.

From Xenia’s information, Skye figured the victim had been attacked sometime between when Risé left at eight fifteen and Xenia came looking for Kayla at eleven. Whoever killed the girl probably turned off the light when he or she left the store.

“Yep.” Charlie looked at Skye a little strangely. “Everything’s peachy.”

They sat in silence as Frannie served their meals; then as Charlie fussed with his cheeseburger, Skye said as casually as she could, “Are you still seeing that woman over in Brooklyn?”

“No.” Charlie swirled a French fry in a pool of catsup and popped it in his mouth. “She was getting too serious.”

Skye poked at her chef’s salad. “That’s too bad.” The lettuce, boiled ham strips, and cubes of American cheese were hidden by a thick layer of Thousand Island dressing. So much for eating a healthy meal. She should have had the corn dog and onion rings she really wanted. “Then you were alone Saturday evening?”

“Nope. I spent the night with my new lady friend, the animal doc from Laurel.” Charlie’s bland expression didn’t alter, but there was a suspicious flicker in his bright blue eyes. “Why are you so concerned about my social life all of a sudden?”

“Uh.” Skye really didn’t want to admit she was asking for an alibi. “No reason.” She hurried to change the subject. “Oh, look. There’s Bunny.”

The bowling alley manager was strolling from table to table, chatting with the customers. Skye waved, and the older woman headed toward them.

Tonight Bunny’s outfit was subdued, and Skye wondered whether anything was wrong. The redhead wore a tight black sweater, knit pants, and medium-heeled ankle boots. Had her subscription to the Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog lapsed?

After Bunny had enveloped Skye in a hug, Skye asked, “Everything going well?”

“Better now.” Bunny grinned. “For a while there I wasn’t sure if life was passing me by or trying to run me down.”

“What changed?” Skye asked.

“I came up with a new way to make some extra cash and improve my social life.”

“Really?” Skye teased. “Does it have anything to do with that nice-looking gentleman who saved you a parking spot at the bookstore’s grand opening the other day?”

“Maybe.” Bunny lowered her voice. “But I haven’t told Sonny Boy, so I can’t talk about it yet.”

Oh-oh! Skye cringed. Were Bunny’s improved love life and her new moneymaking scheme connected? That couldn’t be good.

Before Bunny could say more, she caught sight of two teenagers trying to sneak into the bar and teetered off, saying over her shoulder, “I gotta take care of that. See ya later.”

“I wonder what she’s thought up this time,” Skye muttered.

“You probably don’t want to know.” Charlie shot Skye a hard look. “I’d say you have your hands full trying to get everyone’s alibis for the time that poor little gal was murdered.”

CHAPTER 16

Les Misérables

Skye left the bowling alley at six thirty. She was thrilled that Uncle Charlie was in the clear but worried about how she would question the others. Although none of her cousins was as smart as Charlie was, they were a lot meaner. If they suspected she was interrogating them, they might kill her. Or worse, rat her out to May, who wouldn’t take kindly to her daughter trying to incriminate a family member.

With that in mind, she decided to talk to the only non-relative on her list, Tomi Jackson. Skye was fairly sure the diminutive woman wouldn’t attack her or tattle to May, but she was a little afraid that Tomi would ban her from the Feed Bag—which might be the most horrible outcome of all. Other than McDonald’s and the bowling alley, Tomi’s was the only place in town to get a meal without cooking it yourself. Unless you counted the fried chicken from the grocery store’s deli department.

Just as Skye had hoped, the Feed Bag’s parking lot was nearly empty. On weeknights the restaurant closed at seven, so only a few stragglers would be lingering over their coffee. Tomi wouldn’t be busy, and Skye wouldn’t have to find some excuse to visit her at her home.