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

to do something on a murder investigation other than crowd control and background checks.” A crease formed between her brows. “If I can’t work the investigation, Zuchowski will get a leg up on me. He already lords it over me because he started a week before I did.”
    “I see.” Skye couldn’t remember ever seeing the other rookie, although she’d heard Wally mention him from time to time. He’d been hired last summer when she’d been preoccupied planning her cousin’s wedding, and he had flown under her radar since then.
    Skye waited for Zelda to continue, and when she didn’t, Skye finally asked, “I assume you’re telling me this because you’d like me to intervene in some way?” She knew she sounded overly formal, but being engaged to the chief put her in an awkward position. “What are you hoping I can do?”
    “I hate to ask.” The young woman frowned. “But I don’t know who else to turn to.”
    Zelda’s expression reminded Skye of a puppy who had made a puddle in the middle of the living room carpet—remorseful, but with no idea how to solve the problem.
    “I could speak with Quirk,” Skye offered, then cautioned, “But I think he’d respect you more if you went to him yourself and told him exactly what you just told me. Maybe explain he caught you off guard.”
    “But he’ll be mad.”
    “Probably.” Skye nodded. “At least at first. But I thinkhe’ll understand your motives.” She resolved that if the sergeant gave Zelda too hard a time, she’d remind him of his own indiscretion. “Do you want me to come with you when you tell him?”
    “No.” Zelda took a deep breath. “I see now that I need to do this on my own.”
    The women parted, Zelda in search of Quirk and Skye seeking Wally. She found him upstairs in his office. The decor never changed, although Skye did notice he had a new photograph of the two of them on his desktop. The previous picture had been a formal portrait of Skye taken when she was the maid of honor at her cousin’s over-the-top wedding. She was glad he had replaced it, since in that photo she was wearing a Pepto-Bismol pink dress that did nothing for either her complexion or her figure.
    After a quick hug, Wally cupped her chin and examined the injury to her cheek. Frowning, he shook his head and threatened, “I should arrest Bunny Reid for assaulting you with a deadly grooming tool.”
    “It wasn’t her fault,” Skye explained. “I should have known better than to leap into the situation without considering the consequences.”
    “Well…” Wally’s tone was grudging. “They do look as if they’re healing pretty quickly.”
    “See.” Skye smiled. “I told you I didn’t have to see a doctor.”
    “Hmm.” Wally made a noncommittal noise before gently kissing Skye’s wounded cheek and returning to the chair behind his desk.
    As he settled into his seat, Skye took a moment to appreciate her good fortune in being engaged to someone as wonderful and handsome as Wally. He had turned forty-three a couple of weeks ago, but the silver in his black hair and the slight lines around his mouth did nothing to mar his rugged good looks.
    Silently, she thanked God that they had finally ended up together. She’d had a crush on him since she was a teenager and he was a twenty-two-year-old rookie on the Scumble River police force, but up until a couple of years ago, something had always kept them apart.
    Wally interrupted her reverie. “I’ve got Quirk’s report here.” He flipped open the manila file in front of him and scanned the contents. “There’s not much to go on. According to his notes you found the body, called nine-one-one, and when the police arrived, the only people present in the bowling alley were you and Bunny.”
    “That about sums it up.” Skye tried to think if she had anything to add. “The front door was unlocked, although Bunny swears she locked it.”
    “I see that.” Wally lifted a brow. “But how reliable is