Murder of a Royal Pain

“Your father is about the calmest man I know.” Sometimes Skye wondered if Xavier had a pulse. If she hadn’t seen him out in the sunlight, she would have sworn he was a vampire.

“That’s the problem.” Frannie leaned forward. “He never gets mad, so when he does, it’s worse than if he did it all the time.”

Skye could understand that—she hated dealing with people who stuffed all their emotions down deep inside them, then blew like Mount Saint Helens once they finally let go—but she still wasn’t going be the one to tell Xavier Frannie’s bad news.

“Your dad loves you more than life itself,” Skye reassured Frannie. “It must be something pretty terrible if you think he’ll go nuts.”

She tried to imagine all the things an eighteen-year-old girl could say to her dad that would cause him to have a meltdown. Pregnancy? Eek! That would be bad in so many ways. What else? Had she wrecked the car? No, Frannie didn’t have a vehicle at school. That left only one possibility.

“Tell me you’re not quitting college,” Skye pleaded. “You’ve only been there a month.”

“But I hate it.” Frannie’s bottom lip quivered. “I don’t have any friends, and the classes are a lot harder than high school. I’ve never gotten lower than an A-minus in my life, but I got a D on my first biology test.”

“Give it time. Now that you realize it’s harder, you’ll study more and bring up that grade. And, once you find the right group, you’ll make friends. Remember, it took you a while in high school, too.” Skye scooted her chair closer to Frannie’s. “Hey, I just thought of something. My sorority, Alpha Sigma Alpha, has a chapter at Loyola. Maybe you could go through rush and—”

“Get real,” Frannie cut her off. “No sorority will invite me to pledge. Those peroxide monsters don’t want someone my size in their house. I’m guessing you looked different in college than you do now.”

“Yeah,” Skye joked, “I looked about a hundred years younger.” At Frannie’s disappointed expression she quickly added, “Okay. Yes, I was thinner, but ASA isn’t like that. We’re more concerned about personality and values and a good fit with the other sisters.”

Frannie grunted, then exhaled in a long whoosh of air. Her expression clearly stated that she thought Skye was hopelessly out of touch with reality.

“Really.” Skye tried to convince the girl. “And I could put in a good word for you.”

Frannie bit her lip. “It’s not only the grades and the friends. . . .”

“Then what?”

“I miss it here. I hate the city. I thought I’d love it, but I’m scared all the time. We’ve been told not to even walk to the library by ourselves. Besides, I miss my dad and Justin and you.”

“Oh. But your scholarship . . .” Skye wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t all that fond of the city either, but she’d lived in one for more than a month before making that judgment. And if Frannie dropped out of Loyola, she’d be giving up a full ride. Could Xavier afford tuition somewhere else? “It’s just that opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss.”

Frannie shrugged.

Skye tried again. “I guess all I’m saying is, you might want to give it a little more time before you make such a big decision.”

Frannie shrugged again, then said, “Could you just call my dad?”

CHAPTER 12

Got to Be There

It took forever to track down Xavier. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning before he arrived to pick up Frannie, and after two when the father and daughter finally drove off together. Then, before going to bed, Skye made the mistake of checking her answering machine.

The first message was from Wally, a terse, “There’s still no word on why my father collapsed.” A pause. “You need to check your cell. I keep getting a busy signal. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Shoot! A busy signal? What was wrong with her cell phone?

The second call was from Vince. His voice sounded funny, but all he said was, “I need to talk to you. I’ll stop by when I get done with work tomorrow.”

Afterward, Skye lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She took turns picking at the various worries in her life as if they were scabs. First, there was Wally’s father. Was he okay? How would Wally handle it if he wasn’t?

Next, her thoughts turned to the murder. Was Annette really the target, and would Quirk be able to solve the case? What if the killer had really been after Skye or one of the other witches? Would he try again?

Then there was Frannie’s decision to quit college. Would she truly drop out? Did she plan to go somewhere else? And if she didn’t, would she end up working dead-end jobs for the rest of her life?

Last, there was Vince’s mysterious message. What could be wrong with her brother?

It was nearly dawn before Skye fell asleep, and she didn’t wake up until after one thirty in the afternoon. As she sipped a cup of Earl Grey tea, she turned the radio on to WSRE—the voice of Scumble River. Annette’s mysterious death dominated the local news.