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

everything, including custody of the baby.”
    “But what about us?”
    Skye cringed, hating to eavesdrop on these future guests of
The Jerry Springer Show
. She took a step backward and froze when she bumped into a rack, causing a tinny clunk.
    “Did you hear that?” he demanded.
    “Hear what?” the woman asked between sobs.
    There was a long moment of silence while Skye fought to remain quiet.
    “Guess it was nothing,” the man answered, then said, “I’d better get back to the table. We’ll dial in on all this tomorrow while the queen’s busy cooking. Her Highness will be wondering what’s taking me so long. I swear, she even times me when I take a leak.”
    A soft giggle hiccuped through the tears. “You’re so funny, Kyle.”
    Skye raised an eyebrow. So, half of the amorous couple was Cherry Alexander’s husband, Kyle. She wondered who his lover was.
    “And you’d better get back before Juanita complains to Cherry about having to do your job and hers too.”
    “I didn’t leave the baby with Juanita.”
    Ah, the nanny. How clichéd. Skye shook her head. Did every rich father sleep with his child’s nanny?
    “What?” Suddenly the male voice was no longer cajoling. “Who’s watching him?”
    “He’s in the car.”
    “By himself?”
    “Yes.” The girl’s voice quavered. “He’s in his car seat asleep and the doors are locked.”
    “You skank!” All traces of Kyle’s prior charm had drained away, and his tone was now utterly harsh. “Never, ever leave my son alone again.”
    “But… but, Kyle. What about us?”
    “Just get out of here, Larissa. We’ll talk later.”
    It took Skye a moment to realize that the couple would have to come her way to get out of the coat area, and another second to figure out what do. Hoping that their ownmovement would be blamed for the noise, Skye wedged herself between two racks, pulling the coats in front of her as camouflage. Thank goodness she was wearing black.
    Larissa came first. She was crying too hysterically to notice if an armed Roman gladiator popped up in front of her. Kyle was close on the girl’s heels, looking straight ahead, nearly pushing the distraught nanny out of his way. Luckily for Skye he was too angry to care who might be around.
    Once the couple left, Skye found a hanger, hung up her coat, and smoothed her hair and dress. As she made her way into the large area that had been set with circular tables, she shook her head. She would never have guessed that surferdude Kyle would turn into Romeo Kyle, then morph into protective-father Kyle. That scene had sure been an eyeopener.
    The tables were packed, and servers were scurrying around delivering bowls of steaming soup, bringing baskets of fragrant bread, and filling glasses with wine. Skye’s stomach growled. She hadn’t had anything to eat since a BLT six hours ago.
    She scanned the chairs, looking for her mother and dad, but couldn’t spot them. Finally, one of the servers asked, “Can I help you find your table, ma’am?”
    “Are there assigned seats?” Skye was a little surprised, wondering how Grandma Sal’s staff had decided who sat with whom.
    “Yes, ma’am. Are you a contestant, media, judge, or Grandma Sal’s staff?”
    “Contestant.”
    “The contestants are seated two to a table with their guests and their runners and their runners’ guests.” The young man pointed to a group of twelve tables in the front of the room. “Starting from the right side, the places are arranged alphabetically.”
    “Thank you.” Skye nodded at the server and walked toward the area he indicated.
    She found her place at the third table. Her mother and father sat with the middle school Home Ec teacher, whom Skye was acquainted with, and a man Skye assumed wasthe teacher’s husband. On the other side of her parents were two empty seats, and next to the vacant chairs were Bunny and her son, Simon.
    Skye paused only a second before turning to leave, but it was a second too long. May