Turkey Day Murder (6 page)

Read Turkey Day Murder Online

Authors: Leslie Meier

BOOK: Turkey Day Murder
2.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
A hush of expectation fell over the room. Feeling a slight vibration, Lucy's attention was drawn to Curt Nolan, who was sitting a few seats from her. He was so tense that his knee was twitching; his hands were clenched anxiously. Ellie was watching him nervously.
“With all due modesty,” O'Hara continued, “I think you will agree that we have risen to the challenge and exceeded it.”
With a flourish he lifted the cardboard cover and revealed the architect's model.
Involuntarily, Lucy blinked. There was a stunned silence, then a collective gasp, as audience members absorbed the two gleaming hotel towers, each at least fifteen stories tall, and the accompanying casino, a monstrous version of a traditional Iroquois long house rendered in glass and steel.
Lucy wondered what Nolan's reaction was and looked curiously at him. His knee, she saw, was jumping and his knuckles were white.
“What may not be obvious,” said O'Hara, flicking a laser point over the model, “is that the complex will provide parking for two thousand cars, accommodations for five hundred overnight guests, numerous gift shops, and a wide variety of restaurants catering to all tastes from fast food right on up to a five-star dining experience.”
As soon as he'd finished speaking, hands shot up around the room and Curt Nolan was on his feet.
“This is a travesty, an outrage,” exclaimed Nolan.
From his perch behind the selectmen's bench, Howard White was nodding in agreement. He made no attempt to silence Nolan but let him continue.
“This prop-proposal has nothing to do with Metinnicut heritage,” said Nolan, so angry he was stumbling over his words. “Metinnicuts never lived in long houses—and they certainly didn't have skyscrapers. And what about that museum we were promised? If you ask me, the only thing this looks like is the Emerald City of Oz!”
He sat down with a thump, and Ellie gave him a little pat on the knee.
White, for perhaps the one and only time, was nodding in agreement with Nolan. Looking around the room, he next recognized Bob Goodman, certain that he, as the lawyer for the Association for the Preservation of Tinker's Cove, would also be against the proposal.
“Putting all aesthetic considerations aside,” began Bob, pausing to remove his glasses and wipe them with a handkerchief, “I feel compelled to point out that, as presented here tonight, this design does not comply with the existing zoning and site plan regulations of this town.”
Canaday was immediately on his feet. “Point of order,” he said, managing to get everyone's attention without raising his voice. “We believe there is some precedent here. If built on land that is owned by the tribe, and that can be shown to have been traditionally occupied by the tribe, local zoning ordinances do not apply.”
At this pronouncement, the room exploded in an uproar as citizens loudly debated with their neighbors whether this could possibly be true.
Howard White pounded his gavel, and gradually the roar subsided and order was restored.
“I want to remind everyone that the merits,” he spat the word out, “of the proposed casino are not the issue tonight. The question is whether the board will support the Metinnicut petition for federal recognition. I'm going to close the public debate now and bring that issue back to the board.”
Pete Crowley took his cue.
“I'm sympathetic, of course,” he began, “to the desire of the citizens of our town who are of Native American heritage to reclaim that, uh, heritage. But let's face it: Most of these so-called Metinnicuts are just about as much Indian as I'm Swedish, and for your information, my maternal grandmother was half Swedish which, as far as I can tell, makes me one hundred percent American!”
This was met with murmers of approval.
“The tribe's real interest, as we've seen tonight, is getting this casino built and as far as I'm concerned a casino is just going to bring organized crime and a lot of other problems to our town.”
Crowley paused and shook his head sadly. “I'm sorry. I've lived with these people my whole life and I don't see how they're an Indian tribe. They're just like the rest of us.”
“Well, I'm Italian and proud of it,” proclaimed Joe Marzetti. “It doesn't make me any less American, but in my family we enjoy Italian food. We keep in touch with relatives in the old country. And I understand what Mr. Sykes is talking about. He has a right to his heritage. And if recognizing that right brings certain advantages to our town, like legalized gambling, so much the better.”
He turned to Bud Collier and, noticing he had dozed off, poked him in the side.
Lucy couldn't help rolling her eyes. Mrs. Collier might not have liked her story, but it apparently hadn't affected Bud Collier in the least.
He roused himself, blinked a few times, and spoke. “There aren't enough jobs in this town. The kids are all moving away. We're going to become a town of old people if we don't watch it. These Metinnicuts—they're fine people. I've lived with them my whole life. Give them what they want.”
He paused and cast a baleful eye on the model. “There'll be plenty of time to talk about
that
later.” His chin sank on his chest and he resumed his slumber.
“Oh, dear,” fretted Sandy Dunlap as Howard White looked in her direction. “I just don't know what to say. I mean, I'm sympathetic to the Metinnicuts ... but after what we've seen tonight ... I can't say I'm in favor.”
Concluding that he had three no votes, White seized the moment.
“Are we ready to vote?” he asked.
“I vote yes. We should endorse the Metinnicut petition,” said Marzetti.
“Yes,” said Collier, expending as little energy as possible.
“I vote no,” said Crowley, narrowing his eyes at the others.
“I, of course, vote no,” said White. “That makes it a tie. Mrs. Dunlap?”
“Oh, dear, I just don't know.”
Lucy leaned forward, pen in hand, to get every word.
“Of course, I value the Metinnicut heritage, but this is such an important decision, it could change our town forever. Of course, we can't stand in the way of progress, but we do want to preserve our treasured way of life. . . .”
Suddenly, Sandy's eyes brightened and her curls bounced.
“I know! Frankly, this is much too important a decision for people like us to make. This is one time I think we should rely on the experts in the federal government.”
Lucy glanced at White; she thought he would explode with rage.
“The folks at the Bureau of Indian Affairs have developed expert criteria for determining whether a tribe is really a tribe,” continued Sandy. “We should let them do their job. I vote yes.”
Again, the room exploded. There was celebration on the Metinnicut side, anguish and head shaking among the preservationists. Lucy only felt relief. She had the quotes; she had the votes—she could go home. She grabbed her bag and fled, never looking back.
CHAPTER 8
“Y
ou're cutting it kind of close, aren't you?” growled Ted when
Lucy arrived for work on Wednesday.
It was ten o'clock, just two hours before deadline.
“Not to worry,” said Lucy, glancing at Phyllis, the receptionist, with a questioning raised eyebrow.
Phyllis responded with a nervous grimace. Lucy knew she was in some sort of trouble.
“I worked at home this morning,” she continued, “while my pies were baking. I've got the whole story on this disk.”
“I can't wait to read it,” said Ted. “I heard there was quite a little dustup.”
“Just what you'd expect. Howard White almost had apoplexy a few times, but he managed to control himself.”
“What about Curt Nolan and the Mulligan guy? What's his name?”
“O'Hara,” said Lucy, wondering what Ted was getting at. “Nolan had a few words with him.”
“From what I heard, it was more than words.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Lucy, feeling her stomach drop a few inches. “I stayed for the whole meeting.”
“This was after the meeting. Nolan took a swing at this O'Hara fellow and he's pressing charges. Nolan's going to be arraigned this morning—I was hoping to have you cover it.”
“Oh, shit,” said Lucy, sliding into her chair and pounding her fist on the desk. “This is big. I can't believe I missed it.”
“Me, either,” said Ted, looking rather put out. “I thought I could count on you. What happened?”
“I stayed until they took the vote,” said Lucy, sounding defensive. “Toby was supposed to come home yesterday but he hadn't arrived when I left for the meeting. I was in a hurry to get home and see him.”
Ted nodded.
“The stupid thing is, he wasn't there when I got home either. He didn't actually roll in until one-thirty, and then he showed up with three friends instead of the one we'd been expecting.” Lucy rubbed her eyes. “It was absolutely crazy. I mean, I was so worried I had Bill calling hospitals and the state police. When Toby finally did show up I didn't know whether to hug him or smack him.” Lucy paused for breath. “And I didn't have a clue where all those extra people were going to sleep.”
“Where'd you put them?” asked Phyllis, who had been keeping a low profile.
“ ‘No problem, Mom,' ” said Lucy, imitating her son's laid-back attitude. “ ‘We'll just crash in the family room.' This, mind you, comes after weeks of delicate negotiations to convince Elizabeth to move out of his room and back in with her sisters. I mean, I could've used Madeline Albright!”
Phyllis laughed, and even Ted gave a weak chuckle.
“How are you going to feed them all?” asked Phyllis.
“Don't ask me. That was my next stop. After dropping this story off, I was going to get some groceries—with my Visa card.” She looked at Ted. “What am I going to do about the story?”
He shrugged. “Go the official route. We don't have time for anything else. Get the police to give you the arrest report. Court's still in session, so you can't get the DA—I'll call the clerk's office and see if Mabel remembers those chocolates I gave her for her birthday.”
 
 
While Lucy waited for the computer to boot up, she tried to get control of her emotions. It was tempting to blame the whole mess on Toby. After all, if he'd come home when he was supposed to, she wouldn't have been worried about him and wouldn't have hurried out of the meeting and wouldn't have missed the fight. Now, thanks to his inconsiderate behavior, she'd missed the biggest story that had come her way in a long time.
No, she thought. Shifting blame was the sort of thing kids like Toby did. She had every reason to be angry and disappointed with Toby, but she'd chosen to leave the meeting and she would have to live with her decision. Maybe she could still save the story. She reached for the phone and dialed Ellie Martin's number.
“Ellie,” she began, “this is Lucy Stone. I guess I missed all the excitement last night. Can you tell me what happened?”
Ellie was cautious. “Is this for the paper?”
Lucy sighed. “You can talk off the record. I won't quote you. I'm just trying to find out what happened after I left. I heard that Curt took a swing at O'Hara. Did you see it?”
“I wish I hadn't,” said Ellie. “I mean, if he has to lose his temper, why does he have to do it in front of a roomful of witnesses? I think he really hurt O'Hara—they called the ambulance. Curt's in big trouble.”
“Do you know why he was so mad?” asked Lucy, making a note to check with the hospital on O'Hara's condition.
“He felt O'Hara had tricked the tribe. They'd been promised a museum and the casino was supposed to have a traditional design.” She paused. “I think Curt really thought the casino was a way to recapture the Metinnicut legacy.”
“Does he have a lawyer?”
“I don't know.” Ellie sighed. “This morning I was all set to go down to the courthouse to bail him out. Then I thought, if he's so good at getting himself in these messes, maybe it's time he figured how to get himself out.”
Lucy understood completely.
 
 
An hour later, Lucy had finished the story. Thanks to Mabel, Ted had learned that Nolan had remained in police custody overnight and had been arraigned on assault-and-battery charges. He'd been assigned a court-appointed lawyer and released on his own recognizance. The hospital hadn't been willing to release any information about O'Hara but Phyllis checked with her sister, who was a nurse in the emergency room, and learned he had been treated and released.
Lucy didn't linger in the office after finishing the story. She told Ted to call her at home if he had any questions and headed straight for the Quick Stop. There she picked up extra gallons of milk and orange juice, a dozen eggs, and a pound of bacon so she could give Toby and his friends a decent breakfast. Well, brunch, since they were probably still asleep after their late night.
As she expected, the house was quiet when she got home. Lucy peeked in the family room and saw the kids were dead to the world in a tangle of couch cushions, sleeping bags, and blankets. She closed the door and stood staring at it, wondering what to do.
It was almost one. Surely they didn't want to sleep the entire day away.
In the kitchen, Lucy brewed a pot of coffee and whipped up some blueberry muffins. While they were baking, she got some bacon started in her big cast-iron skillet.
“ 'Morning, Mom.”
She smiled at hearing Toby's voice and turned to greet him. Her jaw dropped. He was standing there in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
“Toby! Put some clothes on!”
“What's the big deal?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down at the table.
Lucy stared at him. Who was this person with the shaggy hair and wispy little beard and mustache?
“You can't sit there like that. I won't have it. Go and put some clothes on.”
“Okay, okay,” muttered Toby, heading upstairs.
Lucy poked the bacon with a spatula and wished she didn't feel quite so miserable. She'd looked forward to Toby's homecoming for such a long time and now nothing seemed to be going right.
Hearing the rattle of hot water pipes that announced the shower was being used, she opened the door to the stairs.
“Don't use all the hot water,” she yelled. “The others might want showers, too.”
She was turning back to the stove when Toby's roommate Matt appeared. He, she was relieved to see, was wearing jeans and a shirt. The same ones he'd been wearing last night. Lucy suspected he'd slept in them.
“Toby's taking a shower,” she told him. “There's coffee.”
“Coffee,” he repeated, making it sound like some sort of rare and exotic drink. “That's great.”
She poured a mug for him and set it on the table with the cream and sugar.
Matt sat down and stared at his coffee.
“So how was your trip? Was there a lot of traffic?”
“No,” said Matt, obviously a man of few words.
Lucy turned over a piece of bacon. “We expected you much earlier.”
Matt noisily slurped his coffee.
“Was there a reason why you were so late?” persisted Lucy.
“Late?”
Lucy gave up. “Would you like some bacon and eggs?”
That got a more positive response.
“Sure.”
 
 
Toby and Matt were just finishing their meal when the two girls appeared in the kitchen.
“Mom, this is Amy and Jessica,” said Toby, tilting his head in their direction.
Lucy looked from one to the other.
“I'm Amy,” said the plump, dark-haired one. “That's Jessica.”
Jessica had light brown hair and was tall and extremely thin.
“Would you like some breakfast?' ”
“Maybe just some juice,” said Amy.
“How about a blueberry muffin?” offered Lucy.
“No, thanks. I'm a vegan. I don't eat animal products.”
“You can't eat a muffin?” Lucy was incredulous.
“Made with eggs, right? Listen, I don't mean to be any trouble. A glass of juice is all I want, really.”
“And what about you?” Lucy turned to Jessica, who was watching with a horrified expression as Toby mopped his plate with a piece of muffin, lifted it dripping with egg yolk, and popped it in his mouth.
“Just some water,” she said.
“Okay,” said Lucy brightly. “That's easy.”
What wasn't going to be easy, she thought, was coming up with something for supper that the entire group would eat. She'd been planning to serve beef stew, but that obviously would not do.
“So what are your plans for the day?” asked Lucy, joining the group at the table to eat a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.
“I don't know,” answered Matt. “Say, Toby. What's doing in this burg?”
“Not much.”
“There's the pep rally,” said Lucy. “Or you could help out at the pie sale.”
“Pie sale?” Amy was intrigued.
“They have it every year. To raise money for the Boot and Mitten Fund.”
“Don't ask,” said Toby. “It's so poor kids can have winter clothing.”
“You don't want to miss the pep rally, Toby,” said Lucy. “All your friends from high school will be there. Besides, don't you want to support the team? The Thanksgiving game is the biggest game of the year.”
Toby rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. The Tinker's Cove Warriors against the Gilead Giants. I wouldn't want to miss
that
.”
“Toby, I'm surprised,” said Lucy. “You always used to enjoy it.”
No sooner had she spoken than she realized she'd said the wrong thing. Toby didn't want to be reminded of his youthful enthusiasms in front of his college friends.
“Well, it's up to you,” she said, picking up her plate and carrying it to the sink, “but this is the country. There isn't a heck of a lot to do.”
“How about a movie?” asked Amy.
“Only on the weekends,” admitted Toby.
“I bet there's an arcade,” said Matt.
Toby shook his head.
“A mall?” asked Jessica in a hopeful voice.
“Nope.”
“Well,” said Amy, “we might as well go to the pep rally.”
“Rah, rah,” said Jessica in a slow drawl.
Lucy had been listening to them as she loaded the dishwasher. She had to hustle, she realized. It was past two and she was late for the pie sale. She was just turning the machine on when the phone rang.
“For you, Mom. It's Dad.”
“Sweetheart,” he began.
Lucy new he wanted something. “What is it? I'm running late.”
“This'll only take a minute. You know my clients, the Barths?”
“Um-hmm,” said Lucy. “The old Tupper place?”
“Right. Well, they're having a little trouble with their car. It's a Range Rover and the garage says they can't get the part before Friday at the soonest.”
“Bill, we have a full house,” she protested. “We can't put them up.”

Other books

Web of Fire Bind-up by Steve Voake
City of Dreams by Anton Gill
Prove Me Right by Anna Brooks
The Bunny Years by Kathryn Leigh Scott
The Vinyl Café Notebooks by Stuart Mclean
Sea Creatures by Susanna Daniel
65 Proof by Jack Kilborn
The New Husband by D.J. Palmer