Murder of a Cranky Catnapper Read Free

hallway, then realized theothers might try to follow her. Just as she twisted her neck to look, she heard footsteps in front of her. Before she could swing her head toward the sound, she slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Flailing her arms for balance, she lost her footing. But before she could fall, hands gripped her arms and steadied her.
    Skye’s gaze shot to her rescuer’s face.
Shit!
The man holding her upright was Palmer Lynch, the school board member who was running against her godfather, Charlie Patukas, for the presidency. She was so screwed.

CHAPTER 2
    Time spent with a cat is never wasted.
    â€”COLETTE
    H alf an hour later, Skye sat in the principal’s office trying not to cringe as Palmer Lynch paced back and forth yelling at her. He was an attractive man in his late forties, with blond hair and gray-blue eyes. However, despite his handsome face, at over six feet tall and with a muscular build, he was a bit intimidating.
    â€œWhat in God’s green earth were you doing with animals in a school?” Palmer demanded.
    â€œPet therapy.” Skye kept her voice unruffled, but she was clenching her hands so tightly her fingernails were digging into her palms.
    â€œYou mean snake oil,” Palmer jeered, then whirled around and pointed toward Caroline Greer. “How could you approve of exposing our precious children to those vicious creatures?”
    Skye looked at the grade school principal, who sat calmly behind her desk. Caroline reminded her of a partridge—short, round, and with a considerable monobosom. She had poufy white hair, black-framed glasses, and a beaky red nose. But that was where the resemblance ended. Caroline was anything but fussy. Although nurturing toward the students in her charge, the woman hada no-nonsense attitude toward adults, a trait that Skye admired.
    When Caroline remained silent, Palmer continued, “As the principal, I would expect better judgment of you. Do you have any kind of excuse?”
    â€œMany of the students in the group Skye is working with have proven exceptionally difficult to help and the parents requested additional services,” Caroline answered, seeming unaffected by the board member’s outrage.
    â€œRight,” Palmer sneered. “If your kid can’t hack it, blame someone else and seek counseling.”
    â€œIn attempting to support them,” Caroline continued as if Palmer hadn’t spoken, “Skye suggested animal-assisted therapy and provided me with studies that show this therapy has been successfully utilized to improve social, emotional, and cognitive functioning.” The principal raised an eyebrow. “And I hardly call a dog and cat wild beasts.”
    â€œObviously some of the children felt differently since one boy was running down the hall as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.” Palmer’s face was the color of a freshly boiled lobster.
    â€œI’m afraid the introduction of the new treatment didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked,” Skye admitted. “But once Dr. Quillen had a chance to properly introduce the boys to his therapy animals, they enjoyed the sessions. And after they’ve had a few more meetings, I’m sure they will gain some new coping strategies.”
    â€œThere will be no future sessions!” Palmer hit his hand on Caroline’s desk so hard, the pencil holder fell over, spilling the contents across the blotter. “The liability for animals in the building alone—”
    â€œSkye obtained written permission from all the children’s parents and I’ve cleared things with the school attorney, as well as the insurance carrier. Therapy animalsare no different from having a Seeing Eye Dog in the classroom. We are totally covered.” Caroline rose from her seat, marched to the door, and opened it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.”
    â€œWhat?” Palmer stuttered.