New York Times Bestselling Scumble River Series A nasty faculty feud leaves one Scumble River teacher belly-up. . . . Her honeymoon may have been less than relaxing, but Skye Boyd née Denison is still high on marital bliss with her new husband, Wally. The fact that their family is about to get bigger is even more exciting, even if Skye is dealing with morning sickness—and trying to hide the news from her ever-meddling mother, May. But Skye quickly comes crashing down from cloud nine when the body of one of her coworkers, science teacher and volleyball coach Blair Hucksford, is found in the school swimming pool. The troublesome trainer was on the bad side of almost everyone on staff and many of the girls on her team, leaving Skye to sort through a huge roster of suspects. Now she must figure out which wronged party was mad enough to kill, and quickly—before someone else in town gets bumped off. . . . Praise for Denise Swanson and the  New York Times  bestselling Scumble River mysteries “A charming heroine who is equally skilled at juggling detection and romance.”— Chicago Tribune “I enjoy every minute of every book of this series.”—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse series “Bounces along with gently wry humor and jaunty twists and turns. The quintessential amateur sleuth: bright, curious, and more than a little nervy.”—Earlene Fowler, Agatha Award–winning author of  The Road to Cardinal Valley “[A] master of the small-town mystery.”— Crimespree Magazine Denise Swanson is the New York Times bestselling author of the Scumble River mystery series, including Murder of a Needled Knitter , and the Devereaux’s Dime Store mystery series, including Dying for a Cupcake . She worked as a school psychologist for twenty-two years before quitting to write full-time. She lives in Illinois with her husband, classical composer David Stybr, and their cool black cat, Boomerang. Acknowledgments CHAPTER 1 LOL—Laugh out Loud Skye Denison-Boyd adjusted the straps of her bathing suit, then kicked off from the edge of the swimming pool. Her goal was to make it to the other end without losing her breakfast. Not that a couple of soda crackers and a cup of tea was much of a meal, but that was all she’d been able to tolerate in the mornings for the past month. And some days, even the saltines didn’t stay down. Refusing to think about tossing her cookies—or to be more specific, crackers—Skye concentrated on improving her butterfly stroke. Seven years ago, when she first returned to her hometown and started working as a psychologist for the Scumble River school district, she had swum most weekday mornings and often on Saturdays and Sundays as well. In the summer, she used the local recreational club, a lake formed from a reclaimed coal mine. And when it was cold, she did laps in the high school’s highly debated pool. Due to the source of its financing, the swimming pool was a hot topic among the Scumble River citizens. A while back, the district had received some extra tax money from the construction of a nearby nuclear power plant, but instead of buying more up-to-date textbooks or employing additional teachers, the school board had spent the funds on athletic equipment and a pool. The board members had been hoodwinked by a fast-talking salesman and a group of parents with their own agendas. It was the one time in anyone’s memory that the board president, Skye’s godfather, Charlie Patukas, had lost a vote. Because of that, she’d always felt a little guilty when she used the facility. Those ambivalent feelings had helped her make excuses to skip her daily swims until eventually she rarely, if ever, swam at all. But a couple of months ago, after returning from her honeymoon, Skye had vowed to get back to her previous exercise routine. And a little bit of nausea was not going to stop her. Besides, the doctor had said that swimming might actually help the morning sickness. Which reminded her, when she wiggled into her bathing suit at home, she’d noticed a definite baby bump. Up until now, because of her already generous curves, there hadn’t been much danger that anyone would notice the three or four extra pounds she was carrying. Evidently, that anonymity was about to end. She and her husband, Wally, would have to make some kind of announcement soon, or speculation would sweep the town. Scumble River’s main drag wasn’t known as Blabbermouth Basin Street for nothing. Skye and Wally’s motives for keeping mum about the blessed event were due in part to Wally’s concerns about revealing the pregnancy prior to the completion of the first trimester. Furthermore, they hadn’t wanted to take the spotlight away from Skye’s brother and sister-in-law’s baby shower, which was scheduled for Saturday. However, the most compelling reason for them to keep quiet as long as possible was Skye’s mother. May had a tendency to be a bit overbearing—okay, a lot overbearing. And as soon as she found out