Murder of a Creped Suzette by Denise Swanson

distraction for you.”
    “Only in a good way,” Wally reassured her. “You know I value your insights, and once we start interviewing suspects, I’ll want you there.”
    “And I’ll be ready.”
    “It’ll probably be several hours before we’re finished here, so I’ll call you in the morning before you leave for school.” Wally hesitated, his expression hard to read. “I need to talk to you about something personal, but I guess it can wait until tomorrow.”
    “Can’t you tell me now?” Skye’s stomach clenched. Something personal did not sound like good news. “I can hang around a few minutes longer.” She willed him to say what he had to say, to get it over with before her imagination ran wild.
    “This isn’t a good time.” Wally got out of the car. “Tomorrow is soon enough.”
    “Okay.” Skye recognized that Wally wouldn’t budge on this issue, so why the heck had he even brought it up? “When you talk to Mr. Taylor, please tell him I have Toby, and find out who he belongs to, okay?”
    “Definitely. The last thing you need is a dog.” Before closing the Bel Air’s door, Wally said, “Take it easy. Call my cell if you want me for anything.”
    As Skye drove away, she noted that Simon had arrived. The hearse was parked where the ambulance had been a little while ago. There was something very “circle of life” about that, she thought, but at that moment Skye was too exhausted to figure out what.
     
    Skye made a quick stop at the police station to prove to her mother that she was alive and well. Although she was tired, five minutes of reassurance beat an entire evening of the whole family descending on her to confirm her well-being.
    Another necessary stop was the grocery store for doggy supplies. She bought the minimum—bowls, food, a leash, and a box of treats, but the bill was still well over fifty dollars.
    Skye finally arrived home a little before seven. Bingo greeted her at the door, hissing in surprise when he spotted Toby in her arms. The black cat skidded backward a couple of feet, then held his ground, looking like a Halloween decoration with his fur standing on end and his spine arched.
    Toby woofed and tried to leap from Skye’s arms. She put him on the floor, having taken the precaution of affixing his new leash before entering the house. She kept a tight hold on the leather loop as his feet hit the hardwood and he tried to lunge at Bingo.
    Bingo’s yowl sounded like a kindergarten orchestra tuning up, and Toby barked excitedly. Cat and dog stared at each other, loathing in both their eyes.
    Skye had hoped that the animals would get along, but clearly that wasn’t about to happen, at least not tonight. Sighing, she scooped Toby back up, carried him to the second floor, filled his bowls with food and water, and locked him in the master bathroom. Once she had dealt with Bingo’s needs, Toby would be getting up close and personal with a tub of soapy water.
    The sound of the top of a can of Fancy Feast being popped drew the angry feline from wherever he had been hiding. Skye petted him and started to explain Toby’s situation. Bingo moved to the other side of his dish, so that his back was toward her, and pretended she didn’t exist.
    Skye sighed. She kept forgetting that, thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods, and they still expected such treatment.
    Just as Skye finished telling Bingo the dog’s sad story, her phone rang. Hoping it was Wally with the name of Toby’s owner, she grabbed the phone without looking at the caller ID.
    A genderless voice said, “Tell your boyfriend to call me at 555-324-4321. And tell him that what he wants doesn’t come cheap.”
    Before Skye could respond, the line disconnected.

CHAPTER 9
    “He’ll Have to Go”
    S kye was startled awake. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t settle on what.
    Woof! Woof! Woof!
    Oh. Yeah. Her canine houseguest. Whatever would she do about him? She hoped his owner would come forward