Her head jerked up as the superintendent’s voice rang out, “Gustave Yoder.”

The young man whom Skye had earlier observed surreptitiously changing seats rose and sauntered forward. From the stage, Homer caught her eye. She shrugged. They had been outmaneuvered.

Her composure was tested when abruptly Gus moved to center stage and opened his mouth. Only the valedictorian was supposed to speak. Blessedly, a train chose that instant to blow its whistle and they were not forced to listen to whatever comment Gus was making. Skye could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t hear a word he said.

An hour later, after everyone had finally cleared out of the gym and foyer, Homer found Skye. They walked together toward his office.

Once they were behind closed doors he asked, “What in the hell happened?”

“No doubt Yoder’s girlfriend deliberately started the fight so the office would be left empty and a diploma for Gus could be snuck into the pile on the counter,” Skye explained.

“But how did he get a diploma in the first place?”

“Who knows? Maybe he bribed someone at the printers, or a friend stole one from the secretary’s drawer while she was in the process of typing in the names. It doesn’t really matter; his transcript will still state he didn’t really graduate. The diploma is just a piece of paper.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I. As usual, the woman ended up sacrificing herself for her man. What a lesson for these girls to learn. Gus got to go through the graduation ceremony, but his girlfriend certainly did not.” Skye frowned. “I’m just glad we let the other girl graduate. At least we made the right decision in that case.”

Homer nodded.

“On a brighter note, maybe this will get Gus’s father off our backs.” Skye squared her shoulders. “And if Mr. Yoder is behind all the vandalism I’ve been experiencing, it better stop now. No more Ms. Nice Psychologist.”

Saturday morning started much earlier than Skye wanted it to. The phone at her parents’ house began ringing at six and the doorbell at eight. She and Bingo finally gave up trying to sleep and emerged from her bedroom just as her Uncle Dante was leaving.

Skye caught his parting words. “Be there at one, before the police change their minds again.”

May turned the fire up under the kettle, put a cup in front of Skye, and pointed to a spot near Skye’s feet. “I told you that cat stays in your room.”

“But, Mom.”

“Don’t ‘but Mom’ me. Put it back now.” May held the bowl of Sweet ’N Low just out of Skye’s reach.

“Sorry, baby. I’ll take you with me when I run my errands today,” Skye apologized to the feline as she thrust Bingo into the bedroom and hurriedly closed the door.

Her tea and toast were ready when she got back to the table. “Why was Uncle Dante here?”

May sat down with her coffee mug. “Since they’ve finally released Grandma’s body and taken the tape off her house, he wants to get together this afternoon and have a family meeting to decide things.”

“That doesn’t sound like Uncle Dante. He doesn’t usually ask for anyone else’s opinion.”

“He doesn’t have any choice. Grandma’s intentions are pretty clear on that point.” May smiled slightly.

Skye took her things to the sink and spoke over her shoulder. “I didn’t think Grandma had a will, since she had the trust and everything.”

“The trust takes care of the major part of the estate, so she wrote a letter for the odds and ends. She gave it to me about six months ago, after we insisted she have Mrs. Jankowski live with her.” A look of sadness crossed May’s features.

“You never mentioned it.”

“Grandma asked me not to.” May joined Skye at the sink and turned on the water.

Skye frowned. It seemed that Grandma had kept a lot of things secret. “Do I have to be at this meeting?”

“Yes, all the children and grandchildren.” May wiped a plate and set it in the drainer.

Skye dried a glass and sighed. “Won’t that be jolly, now that everyone hates me?”

“Well, honey, you stirred up the stew, now you’re going to have to eat it.”

Vince’s hair salon, Great Expectations, was located in a stand-alone building on one of Scumble River’s busier corners. At twelve-thirty in the afternoon both the streets and the parking lot were empty. Skye grabbed the sack and paper cups from the passenger seat of the Buick, wiggled out of the car, and kicked the door closed with her foot.

As she approached the screen door at the front of the shop she yelled, “Vince, let me in. My hands are full.”

Her brother appeared, clad only in a swimming suit. He held the door open for her and took the drinks from her hands.

“Thanks.” Skye held out the sack to Vince. “Hope you haven’t eaten yet. I brought subs.”

“Nope, I was taking advantage of a lull in the action and doing some tanning.”

“That explains the trunks.” Skye headed toward the back room and Vince followed. “I was afraid they were the new uniform for your salon.”

Vince snorted. “Yeah? Well, how come your hair’s like that?”

The sun had dried her hair into a mass of curls. “I just came from swimming at the recreation club.”

“Oh. I’ll fix it for you before you leave.”

“Thanks.”

They each took a chair next to the shampoo bowls and spread napkins in their laps before opening the sandwiches. They chewed companionably for a while.

“So, who were you with the night before Grandma died?” Skye asked.

Vince choked and gasped for air. After taking a drink from his cup, he finally said, “Damn it, Skye. Isn’t a psychologist supposed to be a little more subtle than that?”

She shrugged. “Probably, but this is the first day of vacation and I’m officially off duty.”

“You might want to go back on duty if you expect to get anything out of our relatives about Grandma’s murder.”

Skye thought for a moment. “You’re right, but that still doesn’t answer my question. Who was she? And does Abby know?”

Vince finished his sub and got up to throw away the debris. He answered with his back to Skye. “Abby and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. She wanted to get married and I wasn’t ready.”

Skye could certainly sympathize with that. “So who’s your alibi?”

“Just someone I met at the gym. It was a one-night thing. I have no plans to see her again.” He looked at Skye and added before she could open her mouth, “And yes, I did use protection.”

Skye stood looking out the window at the vehicles filling Grandma Leofanti’s driveway. She wondered how true it was that you could tell a lot about people by what they drove.

She and her parents had come together in their white Oldsmobile, a middle-of-the-road type of car. Her brother Vince’s Jeep was parked next to Aunt Mona’s Lincoln. Those automobiles were so obvious they needed no interpretation.

The twins drove matching TranSport minivans. Again, that selection didn’t take a psychologist to figure out. Their parents, Minnie and Emmett, had come by truck, as had Uncle Dante. But while the Overbys’ pickup was old and showed years of hard work, Dante’s looked as if it had been driven off the showroom floor that morning. Skye wondered how he managed that on the income from a working farm.

Last, just pulling in, was Dante’s son, Hugo. His pearl-colored Infiniti gleamed as he parked it carefully away from the other vehicles and in the shade of the house. Skye felt lust in her heart, knowing she could never afford the thirty-five thousand dollar car her cousin drove so proudly.

The living room was crowded, and being the last to arrive, Hugo squeezed in beside his parents on the sofa. Minnie and Emmett had chosen the matching armchairs, a twin sitting on the floor at each of their feet. Mona and her husband, Neal, were on the love seat, looking too elegant for the surroundings.