Butch nodded along. “She was a straight-A student, vice president of the student council, and ran track in the spring and cross country in the fall. Even though her events were all based on individual participation, Skye had this way of bringing the other kids together as a team.”
“She wanted to become a pediatrician.” Muriel shook her head as if she still couldn’t believe her daughter’s ambitious plan. “Her room is filled with pennants from Boston University. She was only a sophomore, but had her future mapped out.”
Ronan noticed Muriel talking about Skye’s room as if the teenager could walk into the house at any minute. He had no doubt the room looked the same way today as it had on the day of the crime.
“Muriel,” Fitzgibbon began, “I know you’ve told the story of that day to the police. We’ve read all the interviews, but would you mind telling us again in your own words?”
Muriel and Butch exchanged a wordless glance. “It was a Friday. Butchie and Kate were coming home from college. Kate was due home around lunchtime and Butchie in the morning. His last final exam was the day before and he wanted to spend one last night on campus partying with his friends before winter break.”
Butch nodded. “Both kids were here when I stopped home to grab a sandwich around one. I went back to work, knowing we were having a family movie night with pizza.”
Muriel took a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter. “Skye came home at her usual time. We talked about her day at school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. She headed up to her room to do some homework because her friends were coming to get her around six. They were going to grab burgers and catch a movie. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she had to stay home for movie night. It was a normal Friday night.” She looked down at her trembling hands and rearranged her wedding rings on her finger. “Until it wasn’t.”
“What does that mean?” Ronan asked gently.
“Skye got home around ten. She told me they all had a great night, but she was tired. She kissed us goodnight and headed upstairs. Her room was quiet when I went to bed after the news ended. Butchie and Kate stayed downstairs. There was a movie they wanted to watch that Butch and I wouldn’t enjoy. I took them at their word and went to bed.”
“You didn’t check in on Skye?” Tennyson’s hands were balled together.
Muriel shook her head. “No. She’d earned her privacy. My daughter didn’t drink or do drugs, so I felt she’d earned the privilege of a closed door. Since that night, I’ve wished a million times that I had checked on her…”
Ronan could feel Muriel’s pain as if it were his own. He knew there was a fine line between watching over kids and being an out-of-control worrier. Muriel had no way of knowing what would happen next. “When you got up the next morning, Skye was gone?”
“That’s right,” Butch said. “We got up around eight and made breakfast. Skye and Muriel were going to the mall for their annual Christmas shopping date, and when she knocked on Skye’s door and got no answer, Muriel opened it. Skye was gone and her window was open a crack.”
“What did the open window lead you to think?” Jude asked. “Did you think she’d gone out the window, or that she had been kidnapped?”
“We didn’t know.” Butch sighed. “Skye had never climbed out her window before. It’s a bit of a drop from her window to the back porch. The roof slopes down to a point where it’s about twelve feet off the ground, but the porch rails are much higher. It’s possible to get out of the house like that, but not likely since there was snow and ice on the roof.”
Ronan had seen pictures of the roof and Skye’s room from the file Cisco dropped off. “So the theory was that she’d left the house through the front door?”
Skye’s parents nodded.
“I spent a lot of years working in law enforcement, and I know how a murder investigation of this type works. The detectives let the physical evidence direct the case, but what I want to know is, who did the two of you think had done this awful thing to your child?” Ronan could recall specific cases he’d worked on where the parents had their own suspects in mind and the investigation had gone a different direction from those suspects.
“So far as we knew, Skye had no enemies. She died in the days long before social media and texting, so it wasn’t as easy to see or read about what was going on in her life prior to the murder.” Muriel swallowed hard. It was obvious how hard this conversation was for her.
“The detectives asked about her friends from school, and we gave them names. Nothing ever came from that. Not that I expected Skye’s closest girlfriends to have anything to do with this, but we thought maybe they’d be able to provide some leads.”
“We’d like to speak with them as well,” Ronan said. He knew the power time had on the human conscience and was hoping these best friends could point them in a different direction.
“I’ve kept up with them. Unbelievably, they all still live here in Salem. Butch can print their contact information from the computer.”
“I’d like to see Skye’s room, if that’s possible, Muriel?” Tennyson wore an earnest look on his face.
Muriel nodded. “I was hoping you’d ask. Follow me.” Muriel managed a small smile as she got up from her seat.
Ronan stayed put. He had a feeling there were a few things Butch wanted to talk about while his wife was out of the room.
His biggest takeaway from the conversation with Muriel and Butch was how much they loved their daughter. Ronan’s heart pinched in his chest. Every day he spent with Everly was a blessing. He understood why Tennyson had concerns over him and the others forming a detective agency. Ten didn’t want Ronan to miss any precious time with their daughter. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed to any of us. The Washingtons had learned that the hardest way imaginable.
8
Tennyson
The resident butterflies in Ten’s stomach were rioting. His hands were sweating and his heart pounding. He’d been speaking to the dead since he was thirteen years old, but this was the most nervous he’d ever been before a possible reading.
Tennyson followed behind Muriel as she climbed to the second story. The wall leading up the stairs was covered with family photographs. There were graduations, weddings, grandchildren, and the school picture of Skye in the middle, blue eyeshadow and all, showing Tennyson that while the Washingtons’ lives had gone on, they’d also stood still.
“I was so mad at Skye when those school pictures came in.” Muriel shook her head. A bemused smile curved her lips. “I hadn’t sent her to school that morning looking like that. Do you know what she told me when I got angry?”
Ten shook his head no. He wanted to hear the memory from Muriel, rather than pulling it from her mind.
“She told me we’d laugh about this picture for the rest of our lives. I had no idea she only had three months left.” Muriel sniffled and kept walking up the stairs.
Ten followed again, not wanting to dawdle. At least they’d laughed for those three months.
“Aside from dusting and vacuuming, this room looks the same today as it did that last day.” Skye’s mother stopped in front of the open door but did not go inside. “Is she here?” Muriel’s voice was barely above a whisper.