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children’s TV star, was the one killed.”
    May sighed. “That’s a relief. So, the person who was killed was from Chicago—nothing to do with us.”
    Skye thought about explaining that people who didn’t live in Scumble River were still worthy of their concern, but took a deep breath and instead broached the subject she had called about. “Mom, do you know any of the teachers at the high school?”
    “No. Not offhand. Why?”
    “Well, I spent Friday there visiting classrooms and observing students. I took a break around ten that morning, and Chokeberry Days was the hot topic of conversation in the teachers’ lounge.”
    “There has been a lot of fighting this year about the festival. People really took sides,” May said.
    Skye stretched the phone cord to its limit and grabbed a cookie from the jar on the counter. “Yeah, I saw that at the chokeberry jelly judging yesterday. I thought there was going to be a brawl right then and there, especially after the mayor’s death was prematurely announced.”
    “Wasn’t that awful? But I hear Eldon’s fine today—not that he didn’t get what he deserved.”
    “Huh? What’s happened to Chokeberry Days? When I was little, the whole festival started Saturday afternoon with the judging of the jams and jellies. There was a carnival that night and a parade Sunday. How did all these extra activities get started?” Skye took a bite of her Oreo.
    May’s voice indicated her disapproval. “Things really got out of hand this year. Our beloved mayor is trying to put Scumble River on the map. Every year Chokeberry Days gets bigger and more extravagant. And ends up causing more trouble. A couple of years ago, he had the bright idea of having a Harley-Davidson exhibition, so now we get hundreds of bikers tearing up the town during the festival.”
    “Let me guess—you really can’t say anything against the whole thing because of Uncle Charlie.”
    “Chokeberry Days is his baby,” May admitted.
    “True, and we all know what happens to people who aren’t nice to other people’s children.” Skye put the rest of the cookie in her mouth and crunched.

CHAPTER 5
    The Sounds of Silence
    Monday morning, heading toward her meeting with the junior high principal, Skye felt a lump of dread settle in her stomach. Since she’d started her job a week ago, things had not been going according to plan, and she felt the whole situation slipping out of her control. The principals of both the high school and the elementary school had made it clear the week before that they had no time to talk to Skye about her duties or answer her questions.
    No one seemed very interested in having her around or even sure what to do with her. Finding out where she was supposed to work and locating the supplies she would need made her feel about as popular as a Christmas fruitcake.
    She had just met with the superintendent, who after several telephone calls between his secretary and those at the various schools, promised her an office in the junior high. If she was still employed next year, the elementary would take a turn housing her, and if the unheard-of occurred and she stayed a third year, the high school would ante up a space.
    When Skye entered his office, the junior high principal, Lloyd Stark, glanced pointedly at his watch and scowled.
    “Oh, gee, sorry to be late. The superintendent kept me longer than I expected.”
    He nodded, but his impatient expression was easy to read. He gestured to the pair of straight-back vinyl chairs across from his desk without speaking.
    Skye felt her temper push its way to the surface. In order to regain control, she let her gaze sweep the small room. It was painted a dull beige. The walls were decorated with engraved plaques and citations. No posters or paintings were present to reveal the taste of the occupant. The furniture was utilitarian—nothing stuffed or upholstered that might invite the occupant to get comfortable or stay longer than was strictly