Tippy Toe Murder

by Leslie Meier

  “I was horrified. All I wanted to do was get away from there. I took the tape, stuffed it in my bag, and went out onto the sidewalk. Nobody was around. I could see myself in the plate glass window—I looked all right—and it was still only about twenty to two, so I went to the meeting. I decided to pretend it hadn’t happened.

  “It wasn’t much of a strategy, but it seemed to work. When I got home there was a message that Ben had been arrested in Gilead and I had to go bail him out. Next thing I knew Franny was arrested, and I was off the hook.

  “Fred had an old fraternity brother, Philip Roderick, who’d become a successful criminal lawyer, and he asked him to defend Ben. I thought that was enough, but Fred felt bad for Franny and asked Phil to defend her, too. I knew he was getting divorced from his wife but I didn’t know the rest until I ran into Tatiana this morning. She told me how he’d beaten up Caro and abused his wife and daughter. It made me sick.

  “I began thinking. I’d sort of been on hold, waiting for this all to end. Then I realized it would never end, because I was lying and I’d have to keep lying and I was teaching my son to lie. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t killed Morrill and let Franny suffer for it. I had to admit the truth and take the consequences, and so does Ben.”

  Lucy thought of the little diagram she’d drawn last night. One circle with Morrill and Kitty, one circle with Fred and Annemarie, and the third circle with Ben inside. She tapped

  Barney’s hand, eager to try to tell him about it, but he misunderstood.

  “Take her away, boys,” he said. “And Lucy, do what the doctor says, okay?”

  The yard was filled with emergency vehicles, reminding Lucy of the disasters Toby used to stage on the floor of his room, pulling out every toy car and truck he owned. Sue was keeping the girls clear of all the activity, supervising as they played on the swing set. They didn’t seem any the worse for the time they spent in the cellar, and Sue gave a little wave as they slid Lucy into the ambulance.

  The ambulance had just gotten under way when it suddenly stopped; the driver braked as Bill’s red pickup turned into the driveway, brakes squealing.

  “What’s going on?” he shouted, throwing open the door and jumping down. “Who’s hurt?”

  “Your missus had a little trouble, but she’s all right,” the driver told him. “Doc Ryder wants to check her out.”

  “I’m coming,” decided Bill. “I’ll follow you.”

  Returning to the truck, he put an arm around Toby’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

  “You’ve gotta be the man of the house till I get back, okay?” “Sure, Dad,” said Toby, surveying the assorted vehicles with the rapt gaze of a true believer. “Why’d you make me go to that crummy baseball game, anyway? We shoulda stayed home. Look what we almost missed!”

  34

  No seating until doors open at 7:00 p.m.

  Even though Lucy had stayed in the hospital only overnight—”for observation,” as Doc Ryder put it—she was treated to a hero’s welcome when she returned.

  “Mom’s home!” shouted Toby as soon as the car pulled into the driveway, and Sara and Elizabeth came running. They danced around her, waving handmade welcome-home signs, as Bill helped her out of the car and escorted her to the house. A smiling Sue met them at the door and instructed Lucy to go straight to the family room couch.

  “What did Doc Ryder say?” she asked Bill in a low voice. “Is everything all right?”

  “The baby’s fine,” he assured her. “They did a sonogram. Lucy will be okay, too. Lots of bruises, a real sore throat, and a broken coccyx.”

  “Coccyx?”

  “Tailbone. Very painful,” explained Bill.

  Lucy nodded emphatically, and sat down very carefully.

  “Kids, get your mom some pillows,” instructed Sue, and Lucy smiled gratefully.

  “You can’t talk, can you?”

  Lucy shook her head.

  “You poor thing,” cooed Sue. “Do you want a cold drink?” Lucy nodded enthusiastically and made a writing motion with her hand. Bill sent Toby to hunt for a pad and pencil for her and sat down beside her. The girls tucked pillows around her and perched at her feet.

  “I missed you,” confided Sara, with a little pout.

  “It was absolutely awful while you were gone,” began Elizabeth, and Lucy prepared to hear a long list of complaints.

  “Toby said he should be in charge because he was the oldest, but I told him I should. I’m the oldest girl, so I had to be in charge. The mommy runs the house and mommies are always girls. And we had to have scrambled eggs for supper because that’s all Daddy knows how to cook.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes dramatically.

  Taking the pad from Toby, Lucy wrote something and handed it to Elizabeth, who read aloud, “Which was worse: eggs or cellar?”

  “The eggs definitely. They were burned.”

  Lucy cast a questioning glance at Sue, who had returned with a tray of cold drinks for everyone.

  “It wasn’t so bad, honest,” said Sue, setting the tray on the coffee table and handing the glasses around. “The worst part was hearing noises—especially the gunshot—and not knowing what was going on.”

  “Spiders?” wrote Lucy.

  “We were a little concerned at first, especially Sara,” recounted Sue. “But Lisa straightened us out. She said we were much bigger than any spiders and they were probably afraid of us. After that we sang ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider’ in very soft voices and tickled each other and it was okay. We came out when we heard the sirens.”

  “Lisa?” wrote Lucy.

  “She’s in foster care. Her father’s no threat now, he’ll be in the hospital for quite a while, and then he’ll be tried for attacking you and Caro. After all that’s happened, Louise will eventually get custody of Lisa-Melissa.”

  Lucy smiled her approval. “Caro?” she wrote.

  “Tatiana called this morning,” reported Sue. “She said there have been some hopeful developments and the doctors are encouraged, whatever that means.”

  Lucy shrugged and took a sip of her juice. She looked around the sunny room filled with people she loved and scribbled furiously on her pad. “I’m so happy to be home,” she wrote, and held it up for everyone to see. “Everything looks so nice,” she added, and pointed to Sue. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  “It was nothing,” insisted Sue, with a dismissive gesture. “The kids really pitched in.”

  “You gave me some scare,” confessed Bill. “When I got home the yard was full of police cars.” He swallowed hard and took her hand. “I don’t want to have to go through anything like that again. Ever.”

  “Me either,” squeaked Lucy. Her voice sounded so funny that after a shocked moment, everybody laughed.

  “I can’t get over it,” said Sue, shaking her head. “Annemarie killed Morrill Slack. I hate to think of all the energy I wasted being jealous. Now I just feel sorry for her. Imagine how guilty she must have felt to poach that salmon.”

  Lucy started to laugh, yelped instead, and took another sip of her juice.

  “Fred’s the one I feel bad for,” observed Bill. “He’s a good guy. He felt responsible; he couldn’t let anybody down. He had to protect Annemarie, but he couldn’t abandon Franny, so he hired a lawyer for her. He even gave me the Red Sox tickets— I think he was trying to make up for you finding Slack’s body. I found the check for the camera on the table,” he said, handing it to Lucy.

  She pointed to the name on the check, Yankee Village Insurance Agency.

  “So?” Bill didn’t understand.

  “Claims are usually paid by the insurance company, not the agency,” explained Sue. “In other words, Fred’s paying for the camera himself.”

  “The insurance didn’t cover it?”

  Lucy shook her head.

  “I don’t want to take Fred’s money. He’s got enough trouble right now. What do you think, Lucy? Shall I tear it up?”

  “No way,” mouthed Lucy, slipping the check into her pocket.<
br />
  “I’ll never understand women,” said Bill. “A guy doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Lucy’s and Sue’s eyes met, and this time Lucy joined in the laughter, even though it hurt.

  35

  Show begins at 7:30 p. m. SHARP.

  Finally, after months of preparation, the big show was about to begin. The high school auditorium was packed; everyone in Tinker’s Cove seemed to be there. Hardworking fathers, uncomfortable in their Sunday best, tugged self-consciously at their ties and stretched their necks. Brothers and sisters fidgeted restlessly in their seats. Grandparents, veterans at these affairs, chatted quietly and idly fanned themselves with their programs. And almost every mother, decked out in heels and makeup, had a bouquet of flowers or a prettily wrapped gift for her favorite ballerina.

  Backstage, Lucy led Sara and Elizabeth to the dressing room. Staking out a spot in the crowded room, where every inch seemed occupied by tiny dancers in various stages of undress, Lucy helped the girls into their costumes.

  “I can’t believe there’s no curtain or anything,” complained a newly modest Elizabeth. “How do they expect us to change with everybody watching?”

  “Nobody’s watching. Just be quick,” urged Lucy, helping her step into the tutu. Her voice was still a hoarse whisper.

  “You look beautiful,” she said, stepping back to admire her daughters.

  “The other girls are wearing lipstick,” Elizabeth informed her.

  “I know,” said Lucy, unzipping her makeup bag. “The pink sheet says to use lipstick and rouge.” She was just adding a final touch of blush when Karen Baker asked if the girls would pose for a snapshot. Linking arms, the girls smiled prettily.

  “Off you go,” said Karen, replacing the camera in its case.

  “Break a leg!” said Lucy, giving them a wave for luck.

  “How are you feeling?” asked Karen. “You’ve had a lot of excitement lately.”

  “I’m okay, we’re all okay. It was horrible, though. I’m still having nightmares about it.”

  “How are the kids doing?” Karen took her arm, and the two women walked slowly down the hall to the auditorium. On the way, they passed Tatiana, splendid in harem pants and a bolero jacket. She always performed in the show and this year she was dancing the part of the Arabian from the Nutcracker. She had painted eyeliner out to her ears, attached fantastic false eyelashes, and added a sprinkling of glitter. The effect was extremely dramatic, and some of the youngest dancers couldn’t resist hugging her.

  Catching her eye over the heads of the children clustered around her, Lucy gave her a thumbs-up sign. Tatiana winked back.

  “The kids are fine,” said Lucy. “I think they liked all the excitement. Toby says he wished he’d been home to videotape it. Then he could have sent it in to Eyewitness Video.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” said Karen, scanning the crowded auditorium for her husband. “See you later,” she said, spotting him. “Enjoy the show.”

  Lucy made her way down the crowded aisle and slipped into the seat Bill had saved for her.

  “Are the girls nervous?” he asked.

  “More excited than nervous, I think. The squeaky-voice index is hovering around ninety-nine point nine.”

  Bill chuckled, and reached inside his pocket. “By the way, I found this in the mailbox.” He handed her a letter.

  Lucy fingered it curiously. She hadn’t written or received a letter in a long time. She had had many correspondents when she was in college, but now she reached for the phone.

  The return address was in Washington, D.C., but the sender had not included a name. Lucy opened the envelope and looked for a signature.

  “It’s from Louise Roderick,” she said, and began eagerly reading the neat, round script.

  “Dear Lucy Stone [she read]. There is no way I can ever express my great thanks to you. You saved my dearest friend’s life, you protected my daughter, and you did all this despite real danger to yourself and your family. You must be a very rare and wonderful person.

  “I have been granted custody of Melissa on a trial basis, supervised by the court. I know I have a lot of work to do if I’m going to be the good mother I want to be, and we’re both seeing counselors.

  “Oddly enough, I find I can deal with the things Philip did to me and maybe even to Melissa, but I cannot stand the fact that he hurt you and Caro. My constant prayer is that you will both recover completely, and that he will receive the punishment he deserves.

  “Thanks to you and Tatiana and Caro I now have a chance for a new life with Melissa. I am taking things one day at a time, trying not to forget or deny the past, but to accept it and let it go. What’s done is done, tomorrow is full of possibilities. Thank you. “

  Amen, thought Lucy, folding the letter and tucking it into her purse. Perhaps someday she would meet Louise. She hoped so.

  “Is this seat taken?” demanded Miss Tilley, nudging Lucy’s shoulder.

  “Not anymore,” said Lucy, gathering up the sweater she’d put on the next chair so Toby could sit there. “I see Toby’s sitting with his friends.”

  “How are you feeling?” inquired Miss Tilley, fixing her sharp eyes on the scarf Lucy had wrapped around her bruised neck.

  “Pretty good,” admitted Lucy. “Every twinge just makes me more determined to see Philip Roderick go to jail for a very long time.”

  Bill nudged her and she looked up just in time to see Franny appear. Accompanied by her mother, Franny looked relaxed and happy. One or two friends began clapping, and within seconds the entire crowd was welcoming her with applause. Stunned, Franny stood there, smiling and clutching Irma’s arm while tears ran down her cheeks.

  Finally, a gentleman Lucy recognized as the Smalls’ neighbor came to their aid and led them to a pair of empty seats. People smiled and waved, and some reached for her hand as she made her way down the aisle. Lucy found herself grinning and brushing away tears at the same time. She felt the warmth of Bill’s hand covering hers, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

  Observing this sign of affection, Miss Tilley humphed softly. “Did you see Kitty?” she asked.

  “No. Is she here?” Lucy straightened up, followed Miss Tilley’s gnarled finger, and found Kitty Slack seated next to a handsome white-haired man. The two were engaged in an animated conversation.

  “He’s Gerald Asquith, president of Winchester College,” she hissed in Lucy’s ear. “I told her he’s just after her money, but she won’t listen to me.”

  “She should,” said Lucy, remembering the conversation she’d overheard in the post office. Then she added, “There are more important things than money. She looks awfully happy.”

  “Pah!” said Miss Tilley, so loudly that several people in neighboring seats turned curiously.

  The lights dimmed, and Lucy felt the old woman’s hand pat hers. “I always said you were one to watch,” she whispered in Lucy’s ear.

  Then a spotlight revealed Tatiana, wrapped in a saffron cape, in front of the curtains. She was welcomed with a scattering of polite applause. The audience was restless—they’d waited a long time to see the children perform.

  “I’m very happy to welcome you to our ninth annual show. I know the children are very excited about performing for you tonight. But before we begin, I want to thank two special people, Ann Douglas and Mitzi Crandell, for all their help.”

  She paused and the audience gave the expected round of applause for Ann and Mitzi. When it was quiet again, she resumed.

  “Also, I would like to dedicate this year’s show to a wonderful teacher, my mentor and also my friend, Caroline Hutton.”

  There was another round of applause, louder this time, and Tatiana disappeared behind the curtains. A second or two later the spotlight was turned off, and the audience sat in the dark, waiting expectantly.

  Music began to play, the familiar strains of a Strauss waltz filled the auditorium, and the curtain opened on seven pairs of dancers dressed in filmy pas
tel gowns and crowned with flowers. Lucy recognized the girls as members of Tatiana’s intermediate class, none of them particularly talented. But in their beautiful costumes each was a star tonight. They whirled around the stage carried along by the sumptuous music, and the audience adored them. Friends and relatives pointed out their darlings, and cheered and clapped for them. This was what they’d come for and they applauded enthusiastically when the girls ran off the stage.

  The older dancers, the high school girls, were greeted with shrieks of appreciation from their claques of friends and admirers. Tottering about on their toes, they remained cool and professional and never missed a step. No matter how much they were looking forward to the party afterward, or hoping for a bouquet from a certain someone, they didn’t dare let Tatiana down while they were performing.

  After a slight delay the very littlest dancers, the babies, tippy-toed on stage to be greeted with oohs and aahs. They looked very tiny, and absolutely adorable in their pink tutus. They also looked very much alike with their hair pulled back into identical buns, and Lucy had a difficult time picking out little Sara. All the babies looked slightly dazed, and some were so dazzled by their first stage appearance that they completely forgot to dance. Instead, they stood awkwardly, shifting their weight from foot to foot. Others, including Sara, performed like old troupers. The audience loved them, especially when the little girls held their tiny hands about six inches from their button noses and attempted to pirouette. That brought down the house, and the babies exited to the loudest cheers and applause of all.

  When the curtain reopened, Tatiana stood alone, center stage, in her glamorous costume. Everyone watched attentively as she began the sinuous movements of a harem dancer. The audience was impressed. Tatiana was a hometown girl, someone they’d known forever, and she could dance just like someone on TV. They rewarded her with appreciative applause.

  The grand finale was unforgettable. As each group of dancers appeared, and performed briefly, they were welcomed with a burst of applause. Soon the dancers were entering so quickly there was no break in the clapping. Lucy and Bill beamed with parental pride and slapped their hands together until their palms burned and their arms ached. Finally, everyone was on stage and Tatiana appeared; the clapping became a thunderous ovation.