Free Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery by Denise Swanson

countered. “But
it
becomes what your choices make it.”
    “No harm, no foul.” Justin twitched his shoulders again. “It all worked out fine. I made some money, Ms. Hightower got what she wanted, and Mr. Quigley got a much hotter chick. A happy ending for us all.”
    “Except that’s not true.” Frannie swatted her boyfriend’sarm. “As I explained to you in the car, someone ended up getting hurt.”
    “Alexis?” Skye squeaked. She sure hoped that Justin’s actions hadn’t set off a sequence of events that resulted in the woman’s murder.
    “Not her.” Frannie shook her head. “Ms. Irving and Mr. Quigley.”
    “Because they might have actually made a love match?” Skye asked, and when Frannie nodded, she continued, “I understand what you mean. However, it’s extremely doubtful that a ten-minute speed date could actually predict a romantic connection or end up in a true relationship.”
    “But I overheard Ms. Irving talking to Mr. Quigley last night at the bowler disco party,” Frannie protested. “And she was real upset. She was crying and asking him why he hadn’t put her as his first choice after promising her he would. She nearly fainted.”
    “What did he say?” Skye glanced at Justin, but his expression was unreadable.
    Frannie answered, “Mr. Quigley said he had put her name down in his number-one position, and he wanted to know why Miss Irving hadn’t put him as her first choice.” Frannie shredded her paper napkin. “It was so sad. Neither believed the other and they both walked away mad.”
    “Did you know then that Justin had altered the results?” Skye asked.
    “No.” Frannie bit her lip. “I was telling him about Mr. Quigley and Ms. Irving on the way here and that’s when he told me.”
    “I’m not psychic.” Justin refused to meet either Skye’s or Frannie’s gaze. “How was I supposed to know that something like that would happen? I never meant for anyone to get all jacked up.”
    “It’s not your intentions that people judge you by.”Skye barely kept the disappointment out of her voice. “You may have a heart of gold, but so does a hard-boiled egg. And look how often an egg gets cracked.”
    Justin stared at Skye as if she was speaking Elvish, and she swallowed a sigh. She knew it was no use chastising him. Justin was an immature nineteen-year-old, still more a boy than a man. He would learn over time that every action had a consequence. She just hoped he would also acquire the ability to empathize. It was a skill she’d been working on with him since he was in eighth grade. Apparently the training hadn’t been a success.
    Although Skye managed to keep the conversation going while they all finished their snacks, she noticed that Frannie and Justin rarely spoke to each other. And when they did, their remarks were cutting.
    At five to four, just before the café closed, Frannie turned to Skye and said, “Can you give me a ride home?” She glowered at her boyfriend. “I refuse to be in the same car as Justin until he admits he was wrong to change the speed-dating outcome.”
    “Whatever.” Justin jumped to his feet and slammed out of the store, muttering uncomplimentary remarks about spoiled daddy’s girls and Frannie not understanding what it was like to be poor.
    After a quick stop to buy the mystery book Skye wanted, she and Frannie left the shop. As they got into the Bel Air, Skye said, “Don’t forget to buckle up.”
    “We’re only five minutes from my house.” Frannie dug through her purse. “Just go.”
    “Come on,” Skye coaxed. “Put it on. The seat belt makes it more difficult for the Martians to suck you out of the car,” she teased.
    Frannie heaved a put-upon sigh, then complied with Skye’s request, but she was silent on the way to her house, and leaped out of the Chevy as soon as it stopped. Shouting her thanks for the ride, she ran in the front door.
    Skye was backing out of Frannie’s driveway when her cell phone rang, so she