Free Murder of a Sweet Old Lady by Denise Swanson Page A

Panting, she explained about the stench.
    They retraced her path until they were a few feet from the concrete slab.
    “Do you know what this is?” Chief Boyd asked.
    “It may be the old well. We were never allowed to play back here because Grandma was always afraid we’d fall into it. I think they covered it when the great-grandchildren were born.”
    Nodding, he tried to move the cover with his foot. It wouldn’t budge. “It would probably be easy to move using the metal handle, but until it’s been dusted for fingerprints I don’t want to touch it. Let me see what I’ve got in the squad car that I can lift it with.”
    Skye trailed him back to his car, and while the chief got some tools and a big flashlight from the trunk, she fed Bingo. They returned to the well.
    The chief inserted a jack handle into the opening. Skye watched the veins pop in his arms as he strained to move the lid. The muscles of his chest rippled under the khaki uniform shirt and his broad shoulders strained against the fabric. Without warning the concrete moved with a loud screech.
    Immediately, the odor intensified and Skye backed away. Chief Boyd covered his mouth with a handkerchief and aimed the flashlight beam down the well. “It looks like a body is stuck about nine or ten feet down.” He turned to Skye. “Can you stand to look? Maybe you know who it is.”
    She screwed up her face and shook her head, but finally moved closer. Putting her hand over her mouth and nose, she leaned forward and followed the stream of light with her eyes.
    Stumbling back, Skye said, “I think it’s Mrs. Jankowski, the missing housekeeper.”
     
    Chief Boyd had told Skye she could leave, but cautioned her not to tell anyone about their discovery. One part of her wanted to stay and see what the evidence people turned up, but mostly she was thankful she wouldn’t have to view the body as it was dragged from the well.
    She stopped at her cottage to drop off Bingo and set up his equipment. When she opened his case in the foyer, he poked out a delicate pink nose and sniffed. Satisfied, he stepped all the way into the room and proceeded to investigate his new surroundings.
    Meanwhile, Skye filled his food and water bowls, leaving them for him to discover when he reached the kitchen. She tucked his litter box under the sink in the small bathroom off the foyer, and immediately showed him its location.
    Bingo instantly used the facilities.
    “That’s what I forgot, Bingo, a litter scoop. I better make a list and get to the grocery store sometime today.” Skye walked to the kitchen and took a small pad of paper.
    Glancing at her watch, she knew she’d never make it to school by ten and decided to take the rest of the day off since they would dock her for a full day anyway. This time when she called she asked to speak to the principal directly.
    “Mrs. Greer, this is Skye Denison. Did you hear my grandmother died on Monday?”
    “Yes, dear, I was very sorry. Antonia was a wonderful woman. I used to love sitting in her kitchen and watching her bake. We’d talk about gardening. She always had the best tips and grew the biggest peonies.”
    “Oh, I didn’t realize you knew my grandmother.” Skye let her tone rise at the end of the sentence, hoping for an explanation.
    “Well, it was over forty years ago, but I dated your Uncle Dante for a time when we were in high school together. He was so handsome and had such a wonderful sense of humor. All the girls were crazy about him.”
    Skye didn’t know what to say to that. This was a side of her uncle she hadn’t pictured. What had happened to change him? It had been years since she’d thought of Dante as fun. As the silence lengthened, she knew she needed to say something. “Wow. Small world. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, I was planning on coming in today, but some things have come up so I was wondering if it would be all right to take a personal day?”
    Mrs. Greer didn’t answer right away.