Christmas Cookie Murder #6 (17 page)

Special Edition

The Pennysaver

 

Tinker's Cove, Maine
December 26th

 

Two Killed in Drug Raid

By Edward J. Stillings

New Year's Eve

A
week later, Lucy's arm and shoulder were still strapped, so she was a passenger in the Subaru while Elizabeth drove. Even though she had a learner's permit, Lucy hadn't had much time to take her daughter driving, so she figured this was a good opportunity for her to get some practice.

“You're doing really great,” she said in an encouraging tone of voice as they crept along Main Street. “Now turn on your signal and turn here—I need to go to the post office.”

Elizabeth signaled left and turned right, picking up speed and heading directly for the brick post-office building.

“Brake!” shrieked Lucy, and the car lurched to a sudden stop, straddling two parking spaces.

“Sorry about that,” said Elizabeth, who was checking her teeth in the rearview mirror. “I get them confused. Which is the gas?”

“The one on the right,” said Lucy, opening the door. She wasn't sure which was more dangerous: the shootout at the lobster pound or teaching her own daughter to drive.

She reached back in the car for her purse and when she straightened up, smiled to see Sue leading her little group of day-care kids. They looked like peas in a pod, each child holding tight to a chunky, knotted rope. Bringing up the rear was a young woman Lucy didn't recognize, pushing an oversize baby carriage stuffed with several snowsuited toddlers.

“Hi!” Sue greeted her. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I didn't need any pain pills today.”

“Kids, you know Mrs. Stone. Sometimes she helps us at the center.”

“Hi, Justin. Harry. Emily. Matthew. Did you all have a nice Christmas?”

The kids smiled and nodded, and Emily held out her hands to show off her new dragon mittens.

“Granny made them,” she said, opening and closing the dragon's mouth and revealing his hot pink tongue.

“Very nice,” said Lucy.

“And this is my new assistant, Casey Wilson,” said Sue, indicating a petite young woman who was adjusting Harry's hat.

“Hiya,” said Casey, giving Lucy a big smile.

“I don't see Will,” said Lucy. “What's happening with him?”

“Steffie's gone home to her folks, in New Jersey.” Sue lowered her voice, mindful of the children. “I think she's going to divorce Tom. They weren't that happy, anyway. And now with all that's happened, she's definitely not sticking by her man.”

“I don't blame her,” said Lucy. “He's bad news. She ought to make a clean break and start over.”

“I think she will,” said Sue. “She was pretty shook-up. Not quite the same Steffie. Said she was shifting her priorities, and now Will's going to be number one.”

“Well, maybe some good will come out of this thing. But if you ask me, I can't quite believe little Miss Goody Two-shoes didn't know what her husband was doing all along. I still haven't forgiven her for bringing those leaflets to the cookie exchange.”

“He was pretty controlling,” said Sue, with a shrug. “I suspected all along that he was abusive. She even had a restraining order out on him around Thanksgiving.”

Lucy's chin dropped as she digested this information.

“You never told me.”

“Oops!” Sue's hand flew to her mouth. “Time to go, kids. I hear the bells. That means it's time for lunch.”

Lucy watched for a moment as the little procession made its way across the parking lot, recalling how sad the noontime bells had sounded on the day she'd learned of Tucker's death. Today, she thought they sounded hopeful. Ringing out the old year and ringing in the new.

She turned and went inside the post office, pausing at the letter slot, to check that she had all of Toby's college applications. She had just shoved them through the slot when she noticed Marge, also holding a handful of envelopes.

“College applications?” asked Lucy, noticing that Marge looked better than she had in a long time. There was color in her cheeks, and she seemed to have her energy back.

Marge nodded. “He got them done in the nick of time.”

“Same here,” said Lucy. “Did you have a nice Christmas?”

“Sure did.” Marge nodded. “Barney's a lot happier these days. He says getting rid of Tom Scott was the best Christmas present he got!”

“I guess Tom will be going to jail for a long while—Ted says the Rousseaus are only too happy to cooperate and will testify against him. They want to clear the family name.”

Lucy pushed open the door and held it for Marge, who paused on the stoop to wave to a passing car.

It was the Cummings family: Steve, Lee, and the girls, driving by in their big sport utility. Lucy also raised her hand in a wave.

“Happy New Year!” shouted Lee, waving out the window. Steve beeped the hom.

“Happy New Year!” called out Marge and Lucy.

“Do you have any special plans for tonight?” asked Marge.

“Actually, the kids are all sleeping over at friends' houses, so Bill and I are planning some cuddle-and-bubble time—he's got a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge.”

“Good for you!” laughed Marge, getting in her car. “Barney's got a six-pack and a video called
Rolling Thunder
.”

“Happy New Year!” called Lucy, as she watched Marge back out.

When she pulled open the door to the Subaru, Elizabeth handed her another letter.

“I found it after you got out,” she said.

“You couldn't have brought it in? You just sat here like a lump?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth looked at her blankly. “I was listening to my new tape—the Diskettes.”

Lucy sighed and took the envelope.

She had just bought a stamp when she noticed Franny Small standing in the corner clutching a letter to her chest, apparently in a state of shock.

“Franny, what's the matter?” she asked. “Did you get bad news?”

“No.” Franny's eyes were huge. “It's good news. Really good news.”

Franny held out the letter and Lucy took it.

“It's from Neiman Marcus!” she exclaimed, scanning the text. “They want ten thousand pieces of your jewelry!”

“Do you believe it?” Franny's face was glowing. “That's a hundred-thousand-dollar order.”

“Wow.”

“And the letter says they plan to put them in their catalog next year and anticipate placing further orders.”

“That's great, but Franny, how are you going to do it? Can you make ten thousand pieces of jewelry all by yourself?”

“Don't be silly.” Franny's curls shook as she nodded her head. “I'm going to go right over to that economic development agency that's opened in Cilead and get myself what they call a start-up loan. Then I'm going to hire some of those folks who lost their crafts businesses in the fire and put them to work. While they're making the jewelry, I'm going to go out and see who else wants to buy it.”

She pointed to the letter.

“If you notice, Neiman Marcus didn't mention anything about exclusive rights. That means I can sell to other customers.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“This could be the start of something big.”

She looked up.

“Listen, Lucy, I'm sorry, but I don't have time to talk right now. I've got to make some phone calls.”

Openmouthed, Lucy watched as Franny bustled off. Then, remembering her errand, she looked down at the letter in her hand. It was the application to Toby's first choice college, Coburn University. She attached a stamp and, crossing her fingers, slipped it through the slot. Then she returned to the car and, saying a little prayer, took her place in the passenger seat.

“Okay, Elizabeth. Look over your shoulder and make sure it's clear. Then, put the shift in reverse, take your foot off the brake….”

“Mom, my foot's not on the brake.”

Lucy pressed her hands together to stop the trembling and took a deep breath.

“We'll start over. First, make sure your foot is on the brake. Then, look over your shoulder…”