Broom and Gloom: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 9 Page 6

  “No, I’m not. He was asking when you’d be back and how you were doing. He seemed anxious to talk to you, for that matter. Anyway,” Sierra continued. “Once he found out you were out of town, he cut his trip short.”

  I wondered what that was all about. There was no need to speculate. I should have learned my lesson by now about doing things like that. “Enough about Riley. How are you feeling, Sierra? How’s the baby?”

  “Moving all the time.” Her voice lightened. “I’m already counting down the days until he comes.”

  “That’s wonderful. How much longer is it?” Like I didn’t know. It was only sixty-six days until her due date. That meant I only had sixty-six days—a little more than two months—before I officially became Aunt Gabby.

  “Sixty-six days,” she said. “We miss you around here. Chad is doing okay. Clarice and Braxton have been pitching in.”

  I glanced at the time and saw my class started five minutes ago. So much for that coffee. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to run, Sierra. It was good chatting, though.”

  “You too, Gabby. Talk soon. And stay out of trouble!”

  ***

  I tapped my pencil on the table, doing my best to concentrate on the lecture being presented about advances in fingerprinting techniques. For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about Skye and Georgia, nor could I stop looking over my shoulder.

  Behind me, there were probably thirty other students, most of them with their gazes fastened either on the lecturer or on their notepads or laptops. Four rows of tables served as desks. At the back of the room there was a door with a glass window and a table with water and plastic cups.

  The guy behind me scowled every time I turned. I knew I was a distraction, and I regretted that. But was someone leering into the classroom? Or was my imagination just going crazy?

  I really hoped that when I talked to Skye’s friend today, I’d get some insight.

  As soon as my class was over, I hurried downstairs, out the front door of the conference center, and across the street to a little deli where I’d arranged to meet Darcy. I walked inside and saw a line of mostly businessmen and -women standing at the counter, hollering their sandwich orders to the workers on the other side of the glass case displaying meats and cheeses. Most of the customers were checking their phones, glancing at watches, or talking into headsets.

  I spotted Darcy right away—she was the only woman sitting by herself with her eyes fixed on the door. She was a brunette with blonde highlights, soft feminine features, and a wide smile. She stood when our eyes connected.

  “You must be Gabby,” she said as I approached.

  “Darcy?” I shook her hand.

  “That’s me. I already ordered a tuna on rye with a side of fruit. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s just fine. I appreciate you meeting me.” I glanced once again at the line and decided to bypass eating. Otherwise, all our time would be up before we even talked. Instead, I slid into the booth across from her.

  She studied me for a minute, not trying to hide her scrutiny in the least. “Trace hired you?”

  I nodded, trying to ignore the tantalizing scent of toasted bread and bubbly cheese. “That’s right. He’s concerned about Skye.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned back with a thump. “So am I. I just wish more people were. The police seem to think she just up and left.”

  “You don’t believe that?” I watched her, trying to get a good read on her. We sat by the window near the door, and people passed on the sidewalk outside, each one looking brisk and focused.

  Darcy frowned. “No, I don’t. Something suspicious happened, and I’d really like some answers.”

  “How did you know Skye? I understand she lived by herself and worked from her home. I also heard she’d just moved here about four months before she disappeared and didn’t have any family.”

  She pursed her cotton-candy-pink lips as if impressed. “You’re thorough. All those things are true. Aside from me and Trace, she pretty much stayed to herself. She was kind of quiet like that. The two of us met because, at the time, I worked at her favorite coffee shop. I guess all of us have our vices, even loners. She couldn’t resist a good cup of coffee. She came in every morning, and we started talking. Eventually we got together for a couple of movies and went out to dinner a few times.”

  “What was Skye like?” I shivered. Every time the door opened, a burst of cold air filled the space. I pulled my jacket closer.

  She shrugged. “She was sweet. I could tell she was a little off balance being here all alone. She was still trying to find her place.” A worker delivered Darcy’s sandwich, and she glanced up at me with apology in her eyes. “Hope you don’t mind if I dig in. I have to be back at work in forty minutes. I’m working as an administrative assistant now. Better pay but not nearly as fun.”

  “Please, dig in. You don’t mind if I keep talking and asking questions while you eat, do you?”

  “Please do.” She raised her sandwich and took a bite.

  “Why did Skye give up teaching and move here? Did she ever say?”

  Darcy raised a hand over her mouth to block my view of her half-emulsified food. “She said she just wanted a change. I didn’t question her too much. She said teaching wasn’t what she thought it would be. There was too much paperwork, too much trying to please administrators, and not enough time to invest in the students. She wasn’t keen on staying with her new job either, but she was hoping to keep it until she figured out what else she might want to do.”

  Smelling her sandwich made my stomach grumble. Maybe I was hungrier than I’d thought, I realized, as visions of a ham and cheese on Italian bread danced in my head. I pushed aside those thoughts. “Did she ever mention the name of her school or where it was located?”

  “She didn’t talk about it much, but she used to bring her own coffee mug into the coffeehouse. It said Arrowhead Central Elementary School, Second Grade. I think she was from somewhere in Arizona? I’m not sure, though.”

  I stored away that information. “What did she think of Trace?”

  “She was in love with him. Couldn’t believe someone like him would be with someone like her. Her eyes just took on a new light every time she talked about him.”

  “Did you like the two of them together?”

  She thought about it a moment and gave a halfhearted shrug and nod. “I guess so. I mean, I was only around the two of them together maybe once. It’s funny, though, because they met in a music store. I didn’t even know the girl liked music, other than what she could get in an MP3 format, so I still marveled at the way they met. She said she’d just stumbled upon the place. What timing, huh?”

  “Why do you think people haven’t rallied to find her?”

  Darcy wiped her mouth with a stiff paper napkin. “I know, right? Some people go missing and the whole country hears about it. They’re usually young, white, pretty, come from some kind of affluence. Skye was most of those things, except affluent. But there’s no reason why this shouldn’t have gotten more attention.”

  If it had, would she have been found by now? Was this just further proof that life wasn’t fair? I kept my thoughts silent.

  “I heard she called into work before she disappeared,” I said instead. “I guess all of that made authorities believe she left on her own free will.”

  Darcy nodded. “It’s true. She even sent me a text just saying she needed to get away for a while and not to worry about her.”

  “You weren’t convinced?”

  Darcy pushed her half-eaten sandwich away, suddenly appearing too distraught to finish. “Why would someone just leave everything, including a hot, famous boyfriend, behind?”

  “It sounds like she could have had a history of doing that.”

  Darcy let out a sigh and stared off into the distance for a moment. “I suppose you’re correct. But still, something just doesn’t add up. I always thought it strange that Trace didn’t take to the airwaves to plead for
her return.”

  I tilted my head. I hadn’t thought about that, but she raised a good point. Trace had some clout, but he apparently hadn’t used any of it. “Did you ever ask him?”

  “Oh, no. Like I said, I only met him once. Skye and I were strictly coffee-and-occasional-girl’s-night-out friends. If Trace was in town or close enough that she could drive to his concert, she was there. I was only a fill-in friend. I got that, though. She was in love with the man. Something in her eyes changed whenever she talked about him.”

  “Any theories about what happened to her?”

  Darcy let out another sigh. “I did have one other idea. I know it might sound crazy.”

  “I’ll take crazy to nothing.” The door opened again and I shivered.

  Darcy leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Skye was in credit card debt up to her ears. I heard her talking on the phone to some collectors. I have wondered on occasion if maybe she disappeared on purpose just to get those people off her back.”

  “You really think that’s a possibility?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  I nodded, letting the idea settle. Was I just wasting my time looking into this?

  That remained to be seen. But I wasn’t giving up. Not yet, at least.

  CHAPTER 8

  The workshop after lunch left me exhausted. It wasn’t that I didn’t think a whole session on light sources at crime scenes wasn’t interesting. I did. It was simply that I was tired, and I kept on thinking about Darcy’s tuna salad sandwich. I’d missed my coffee this morning and my lunch this afternoon. I was going to run out of fuel soon.

  That’s why I decided that, even if it meant being late for my next class, I was grabbing something to eat at the little gift shop downstairs right after this workshop ended.

  After what seemed like hours, the lecturer dismissed us. I was the first one out of the door. As soon as I stepped into the hall, heaving my bag higher on my shoulder, I paused. The skin on my neck crawled.

  There was that feeling again—the feeling of someone watching me.

  I paused and turned, scanning the wide, plush hallway of the hotel for a sign of someone. Mostly, though, scanning for Georgia.

  All I saw were conferees with laptop bags slung over their shoulders or notepads in hand walking from one workshop to another. People a lot like me. No one suspicious.

  “How are you feeling today?” someone asked behind me.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. As I turned and saw Levi there, I let out a small laugh. “You caught me going off into my own little world.” I patted my heart, feeling foolish. Being around Levi had a tendency to make me feel that way. “I’m sore but fine.”

  “You heading out to meet Trace after class?” He began walking with me.

  “I’m planning on it.”

  “Mind if I ride with you?”

  I cut him a sharp glance. “You really want to go?”

  He shrugged. “I was invited and all. Of course, if it’s a problem with you, I won’t go.”

  He’d surprised me. I didn’t know him that well, and there were professional boundaries in place still. Despite my overreaction to him yesterday, I still had to acknowledge that the man was brilliant. When would I ever have the chance to hang out with someone of his caliber of expertise again? I could push aside a bruised ego for that.

  “Of course you can ride with me. I just assumed you wouldn’t have the time.”

  “I can’t turn down an invitation to hang out with one of my favorite singers. Besides, I still need to talk to you about your future.”

  “Let’s meet outside after the last workshop, then,” I told him.

  When he walked away, I paused to scan the hallway once more. A vaguely familiar figure appeared in the distance. My muscles tightened. Where had I seen that face before? Was it Georgia in one of her disguises?

  “Gabby St. Claire?” the woman asked.

  I squinted, trying to place her. She was tall and thin, and had dark hair that was pulled back in a severe bun. She wore a black suit with a gray shirt, which gave her a bit of a vampire vibe. I guessed her to be my age. “Yes?”

  “It’s Evie Manson. We were in freshman biology together.”

  Realization dawned on me. No wonder she looked familiar. “That’s right. It’s been years.”

  She nodded without a smile or an ounce of warmth to her voice. “I transferred to Yale after freshman year, so it’s been a long time. Good to see you again. I thought I’d spotted you in the hotel yesterday, but I didn’t have a chance to say hello.”

  So she was the set of eyes I’d felt on me. Not Georgia. I mentally laughed at myself. “What are you doing now?”

  “I’m a forensic psychologist.” She stared at me, but I couldn’t read the look in her eyes. She’d stopped me, yet she didn’t seem prepared to make conversation.

  “Good for you. Sounds impressive.”

  She continued staring, her eyes pensive, judging. “You?”

  Did I have to go here again? There was something a little humiliating about admitting among people who should be my colleagues that I was still crime scene cleaning. I shrugged. “I’m looking for a new position in forensics.”

  “I see.” She nodded in the direction of Levi. “You’re hanging out with Dr. Spatter, I see.”

  Dr. Spatter? What an awful nickname.

  “Purely professional,” I assured her.

  She stared at me, something I couldn’t read in her gaze. “Sure.”

  My defenses started to rise. “No, really. That’s all it is.”

  She took a step backward, still not looking convinced. She raised her eyebrows as if she knew better than I did. “Well, we should catch up while we’re both here. Perhaps lunch one day?”

  “That would be great, Evie.”

  Or not. Not great at all. Why would I want to hang out with someone who acted like I was beneath her? The old Gabby would have blurted that very thought out. The new Gabby was trying harder to watch what she said.

  With that, Evie turned and walked away. She’d always been a strange bird. We’d been in a study group together, and needless to say, I hadn’t forgotten her. She’d always been so logical and analytical that she seemed to lack empathy and personality.

  I hadn’t thought about her in years. Years.

  A glance at the time on my phone reminded me that I needed to get to class.

  Right after I grabbed something to eat.

  ***

  The lecturer for the workshop on “Bridging the Relationship Between Science and Policing” had a monotone voice that nearly put me to sleep. For that reason, I took out my cell phone and tucked it under the desk where no one could see it. I pulled up the Internet and did a search for Arrowhead Central Elementary in Arizona.

  To my delight and surprise, there was only one school listed in the state with that name.

  Bingo!

  Not only that, but the school had a great website. I was able to click on second grade teachers and a list of eight people came up, complete with pictures and email addresses. Things usually didn’t happen this easily for me, but I certainly didn’t complain when they did.

  I scrolled through the photos and found another teacher who seemed to be close to Skye’s age. The bio for Melissa Edwards said she’d been at the school for three years, which would put her there when Skye was. On a whim, I emailed her and told her I was a friend of Skye’s and that I had a couple of questions. I hit send, unsure if anything would come of it.

  Less than five minutes later, my phone buzzed. Melissa Edwards had emailed me back already. I marveled at my luck and quickly clicked on the message.

  I know Skye. I’d be happy to talk. Is everything okay with her? I haven’t heard from her since she left. You can call me at three, which is when my students leave.

  I glanced at my watch. That was only thirty minutes away.

  I did my best to listen for the remaining workshop. But, as soon as I could, I slipped out, found a semiprivate spot
beside the fountain in the atrium, and called Melissa. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, Melissa. It’s Gabby. Thanks for the quick response.”

  “No problem,” she said, her voice high pitched and tiny. “I’ve been thinking about Skye lately, so I was glad to get your email. Is she doing okay?”

  “No one has actually seen her for about a month. That’s why I’m contacting more people who know her. We’re trying to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Oh, wow. A whole month? That doesn’t sound good. No one knows where she is?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I’ll be there in one minute!” Melissa called to someone in the background. “Sorry. We’re having an impromptu grade-level meeting. That means I only have a few minutes, so fire away with any questions. I want to do whatever I can to help.”

  “What can you tell me about Skye? We’re having trouble tracking down information on her background.”

  She drew in a long breath. “I don’t know what to say. She was private, even more so after her brother died. That really seemed to be a defining moment for her. She withdrew a lot after that happened. I think it was one of the reasons she decided she needed a life change. Sometimes people deal with grief in ways that seem strange to others, but I think starting fresh was one of her coping mechanisms.”

  “So, you really think that’s why she moved?” Interesting. I hadn’t thought about that.

  “Well, that and some guy.”

  “Some guy?” A group of conferees started past, loud and boisterous. I put one finger over my other ear so I could hear. This was one piece of information I didn’t want to miss.

  “She never said any names, but that was my impression. Said there was someone she’d met out in Oklahoma. She wanted to explore the relationship and see where it led.”

  “Did she ever give you a name?”

  “No, I can’t say she did. I didn’t know anything about him, not even that she’d met someone, until right before she moved. All she said was that maybe life would start looking up.”

  I definitely needed to dig into that more. “I know this is a wide-open question that draws on a lot of assumptions, but I’m looking for anything. Can you think of any reason she might disappear?”