Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry by Denise Swanson Page A

daughter’s history, but I want to make sure.”
    Skye punched in the nonemergency number for the PD and said, “Thea? It’s Skye again. Have you heard from Wally?”
    “Isn’t he with you?” Thea’s voice rose in alarm. “You’re both supposed to be at the dinner. Your mom will be real upset if you aren’t there.”
    “I’m on my way. Wally left me a message saying he had an emergency, but I really need to talk to him.”
    “Sorry, he doesn’t have a radio with him and isn’t in a squad car. How about his cell?”
    “He said it’s not working. I guess I’ll try his house again.” Skye bit her lip, then asked, “By the way, you haven’t had any reports about a missing teenager or two, have you?”
    “No. Who’s missing?” Thea demanded.
    “Uh, I’m not sure. Oh, someone’s on my other line. Gotta go.” Skye hung up, feeling guilty. No one else was phoning. She didn’t even have call waiting.
    She turned to Justin and Frannie, who had been listening. “Well, that settles that. Mrs. Yates has not called about Ashley, which means I’ll have to tell her Frannie was lying.”
    Both teens protested, but Skye remained firm. As much as she didn’t want to risk the student paper, she knew Mrs. Yates had to know the truth. With Wally AWOL, Skye had no choice. She couldn’t ask one of the other officers to look for a girl they didn’t have an official report on and whose parents had no idea she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
    A few minutes later, after reaching Mrs. Yates and explaining Frannie’s deception, Skye held the handset away from her ear. Ashley’s mom was not taking the news well. Not that Skye had expected her to. Skye made soothing sounds as the woman ranted and raved, and threatened another lawsuit. Just before she hung up, Mrs. Yates said she was phoning the police.
    Although Skye was relieved that at least now someone would be looking for Ashley, she still had to bite back a pithy comment or two about parents keeping control of their own children, and not expecting the school to do the parents’ jobs for them.
    The call to Mrs. Craughwell went even more poorly. She did not believe Xenia was involved and claimed her daughter was in her room as they spoke. Of course, even if Xenia was there, it didn’t mean she hadn’t kidnapped Ashley earlier and stashed her somewhere. The best Skye could do was make another phone call to the police and leave a message about Xenia’s blog entry.
    All of this took surprisingly little time. After Skye sent Justin and Frannie home, she looked at her watch and saw it was only seven forty-five. If she left right away, she could still make the dinner. There was nothing else she could do for Ashley or Xenia, and according to the schedule, cocktails were at seven and the food would be served at eight. Skye would be just in time for the soup, which might be soon enough to keep her out of hot water with May.
    “Babe, I promise, I’ll totally tell her as soon as this contest is over. She’d grease us both if she barneyed because we messed with her mind.” A low, smoky male voice drifted over the racks as Skye stepped into the center of the coatroom, an area in the back of the warehouse that had been partitioned off with two folding walls, and furnished with a dozen or so metal frames with poles suspended horizontally between them.
    Skye stood in the middle of the rows. She hadn’t realized anyone else was in the room until she heard the voice. Should she cough to indicate her presence, or should she just quietly leave? The tricky part would be moving silently among all the dangling hangers.
    Before she could decide, a distraught female voice said, “You always have some excuse. I can’t go on like this. Either you tell her about us by this Sunday, or I’ll tell her.”
    “No!” the man shouted, then took on a cajoling tone. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t want to tell you this, but I can’t bailon her. We have an ironclad prenup. She’d get