Christmas Cookie Murder #6

by Meier, Leslie

  “Whuh?”

  “Who’s your dentist?” persisted Toby.

  “Dr. Cummings.” Eddie gave him a big smile, revealing massive blocks of gleaming tooth enamel. “He’s OK, for a dentist.”

  “Yeah, right. He just got arrested for murder.”

  “No way.” Eddie shook his head.

  “Way, man,” said Lucy. “Way.”

  When Lucy got home, she found Bill sniffing a gallon container of milk.

  “Sara said you went out to get milk, but we have this and part of another. Is there something wrong with it?”

  “Uh, I guess I didn’t see it,” said Lucy, realizing she had been caught fibbing.

  Just then, Toby shuffled into the kitchen, muttering under his breath. Bill glanced at him curiously.

  “Actually, I forgot all about the milk. I came straight home because Toby said he was feeling kind of sick.”

  Lucy attempted to make eye contact with Toby, and jerked her head toward the stairs.

  “I think you’d better go lie down. Right, Toby?”

  “Whuh?”

  “Lie down. I think you have a little fever. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

  Much to her relief, Toby disappeared up the back stairway. Bill watched him go, then turned to Lucy.

  “Is something going on that I ought to know about?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Lucy, checking on the chili. She lifted out a fragrant spoonful. “Here, taste this. Tell me what you think.”

  She held the spoon and Bill took a bite.

  “Mmmm.”

  “Mmmm good or mmmm needs something?”

  “Mmmm good.”

  Hearing a clattering sound, Lucy and Bill turned toward the stairs. Toby staggered back into the kitchen and plopped himself in one of the chairs.

  “When’s dinner, Mom? I’m starved.”

  His eyes were abnormally bright. Lucy noticed and so did Bill. He bent down and studied them.

  “Are you on something?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Nah, Dad.”

  “I think he has a little fever,” said Lucy, making a show of placing her hand on Toby’s forehead.

  Bill planted his feet in the middle of the kitchen and stared at Lucy. Then he turned his gaze on Toby. He shrugged and reached for his jacket.

  “I’m not a fool,” he said, and walked out the door.

  Dinner, without Bill and with Toby’s odd behavior, was an experience Lucy was only too happy to forget. It was almost enough, she decided as she slipped behind the wheel of the Subaru, to make Tucker’s memorial service seem an attractive prospect.

  But not quite enough, she decided, when she took her seat in a pew at St. Christopher’s Episcopal Church. Bending her head, she recited the Lord’s Prayer in an effort to focus her thoughts. She was here to remember Tucker, not to fret about her own problems at home.

  She raised her head and listened to the organ music. There, in the front row, she saw a well-groomed couple accompanied by two teenage boys with shining caps of blond hair. Tucker’s parents and her brothers. She hadn’t realized Tucker had two younger brothers. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she screwed them shut, covering them with her hand.

  When the tears stopped coming Lucy reached in her pocket for a tissue and wiped her eyes.

  “Tough, isn’t it?”

  Lucy looked up and saw Sue taking the seat next to her. She nodded, and Sue took her hand. Sue’s face, Lucy saw, was wet with tears, and she passed her a clean tissue.

  I hope I brought enough, thought Lucy, realizing that the service was going to be a tearful affair. But if she was honest with herself, she thought, she couldn’t be sure if she was crying for Tucker or for herself.

  How could Toby be so thoughtless? So irresponsible? Didn’t he know that whatever he did affected the whole family? What about the girls? They deserved a brother they could be proud of. And what about her and Bill? Didn’t Toby know how much they loved him, how much they wanted him to be successful and happy? She looked at the Whitneys, bereft of daughter and sister. But people didn’t have to die to be lost. Drugs could take away a beloved child just as surely as any murderer. Lucy tightened her fists, making her knuckles white. She wouldn’t let that happen to Toby she promised herself. She would do whatever she had to do.

  Her eyes fell on Tom and Steffie Scott, sitting together a few rows down. Maybe she should tell Tom about Toby. He’d know what to do.

  She considered the idea. It would be such a relief to get the whole thing out of her hands. To pass it on to somebody who dealt with these problems every day. But was Tom the right person? What if he arrested Toby and he ended up in jail?

  Lucy found herself shaking her head. She needed to slow down, she decided. Of course she was upset. But this was the only time she’d known Toby to use drugs. For all she knew, it was the first time. And it was only pot. It wasn’t as if Toby was a drug addict; she’d been overreacting.

  Tomorrow the whole school would be participating in “Smart Kids, Smart Choices.” Maybe it would help Toby understand what a dangerous game he was playing. Lucy watched as Barney and Marge made their way down the aisle, taking seats near Tom and Steffie and the other police officers.

  It wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit, she decided, as the organ music stopped. And in the meantime, she could let Barney know she was concerned about the drugs in the high school without going into any specifics. After all, she would see him tomorrow at the kindergarten Christmas party. With that settled, she turned her attention to the service.

  “Tonight,” began the priest, “we are gathered together to celebrate the life of Tucker Whitney…”

  Much to Lucy’s relief, Bill was asleep when she got home. After the heartbreaking memorial service she really didn’t want to get into an argument with him. She knew she ought to tell him about the marijuana, but she also didn’t want to go back on her word to the boys. It was an impossible position, and she knew it. She never should have promised to keep it a secret.

  The next morning was much too busy for any kind of serious talk—she had to pack lunches and make breakfast and, as it happened, Bill had an early meeting with a drywall contractor. The only bright spot, she thought as she hurried through her morning routine so she wouldn’t be late for the kindergarten Christmas party, was that Toby didn’t seem to be suffering any lasting effects from yesterday’s experiment with illegal substances. Still, as she parked the Subaru outside the elementary school, she was determined to talk to Barney about the easy availability of drugs in the high school.

  She was rushing up the stairs to the school, fumbling in her shoulder bag for her camera and reporter’s notebook when she ran straight into Lee Cummings.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see today,” said Lucy, blurting the words out before she thought and then feeling horribly embarrassed. “That came out all wrong, Lee. What I meant to say is that I know this must be an awful time for you.”

  “I’m here for Gloria,” she said in a subdued voice. “I know a lot of the kids have probably heard about Steve’s arrest. I’m trying to keep things as normal as possible.”

  “It must be hard on the girls,” began Lucy, as they walked down the hallway to the kindergarten classroom.

  “You have no idea,” said Lee, biting her lips. “What really hurts is that we’d decided to get back together.”

  Lucy raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  “It’s true. Steve and I talked when I got home from the cookie exchange, and he admitted he’d been a jerk and said he just wanted for us all to be together as a family again.” She sighed. “I guess it’ll be a while before that happens.”

  They had reached the kindergarten room, but before Lucy could push open the door Lee stopped her.

  “Lucy, you’ve solved a few crimes in the past. You could figure out who really killed Tucker. Would you do it? Would you help Steve?”

  Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “Gee, I don’t know….”

  “You
could do it. Say you will. Please.”

  “Oh, Lee, I’m not on the police force. I don’t know what evidence they’ve got, but Horowitz sounded pretty positive at that press conference that he had the right man.”

  “But they don’t, don’t you see? Steve was coming back to me. He was done with Tucker.”

  Lucy groaned inwardly. “Don’t you see? That could be his motive. Maybe Tucker didn’t want to let him go. Maybe they fought and he got angry and ended up killing her.”

  “Well, Lucy, if you think that, you sure don’t know Steve. He’d never hurt anybody; he’s really committed to healing. Back when a lot of dentists were refusing to treat patients with AIDS, it was just never an issue for him. He never turned anyone away, not anybody, even if they couldn’t pay.”

  Lee pulled the door open and marched into the classroom. Lucy followed, wondering if she had a point. She wondered if the police really had a case against Steve or if they’d simply arrested the most obvious suspect.

  “Welcome to our classroom,” said Lydia Volpe, indicating Lucy and Lee with a nod. “There are chairs in the back of the classroom.”

  Lucy searched the room for Zoe and found her sitting beside her best friend, Sadie Orenstein. Gloria, Lee’s little girl, was just behind them. Lucy gave them a smile and a little wave as she took her seat. As she expected, there was no sign of Barney yet. He would make a surprise appearance as Santa Claus after the children finished presenting the songs and fingerplays they had been practicing for weeks. Of course, all of the children knew what to expect, thanks to older brothers and sisters. The Christmas party was a Tinker’s Cove tradition, and local merchants generously donated toys and books for Santa to distribute. Lydia made sure that Santa knew in advance which children weren’t likely to have very lavish Christmases at home so especially nice gifts could be given to them.

  As always, the program was adorable, and Lucy had no trouble filling a couple of rolls of film with cute pictures. Ted often said you couldn’t have too many photos of dogs and children in a community newspaper so she was sure he’d be pleased with her work.

  Finally, when the children got to the last line of “Up on the rooftop, ho, ho, ho,” the door flew open and Barney made his entrance, dressed in a Santa Claus suit that was beginning to look a bit worse for the wear, his familiar face hidden behind an elaborately curled, enormous fake beard.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” he roared, and the children erupted into giggles and screams and jumped up and down with excitement. A few bolder children, children Lucy suspected didn’t get much attention at home, wrapped their arms around his massive, treelike legs and hugged him.

  “Children.” After twenty years in the classroom, Lydia’s voice commanded attention, and the children quieted down. “If you will take your places, I believe Santa may have some presents for good boys and girls. Is that right, Santa?”

  “Yes, it is, ho, ho, ho. I have a pack filled with presents for good little boys and girls.” Barney turned his back, showing the bulging sack he was carrying.

  There was a mad scramble as the children ran for their desks, anxious to get their presents as soon as possible. When it was quiet, Barney seated himself and plunked his sack down between his legs. Then he pulled out a long list, unrolling it with a dramatic flourish.

  “Jason Adams.”

  Jason, a little boy with a huge gap in his front teeth, jumped to his feet and ran up to Santa. Barney fumbled in his bag and presented him with a festively wrapped, flat package. Jason hurried back to his seat and began opening it. Every eye was on him. When he finally got it unwrapped he shrugged philosophically.

  “It’s a coloring book,” he said. “With crayons.”

  Nobody seemed very impressed. They turned to Barney, waiting to see what the next present would be.

  “Susanna Barlow,” said Barney, pulling out another package that looked very much like the first. He gave it to Susanna, a little girl with freckles and long braids.

  Lucy happened to know Susanna’s grandmother, Dot Kirwan, who worked at the IGA. Dot was the first to admit she shamelessly spoiled her first grandchild, and Susanna was an expert at opening presents. She ripped the paper off in no time, revealing another coloring book and crayons. Scowling, she clumped back to her desk and mashed the wrapping paper into a ball.

  The children began to fidget in their seats, growing restless. It was one thing to sit quietly, anticipating a terrific present like a Barbie doll or a soccer ball, but it was very hard to sit still for what they were all beginning to suspect was only a coloring book and a box of six no-name crayons.

  “Justin Diggs.”

  As soon as Lucy heard the name she knew Barney was in trouble. Justin lived out on Bumps River Road in a hardscrabble neighborhood where the tired houses were surrounded with cars that didn’t go and appliances that didn’t work. This was probably going to be his only Christmas present, and he had been expecting something good.

  “Justin, go and get your present from Santa,” prompted Lydia.

  Justin stayed put at his desk. “I don’t want no coloring book. My brother got a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger last year. I want somethin’ like that.”

  Lydia glanced at Barney, whose Santa beard didn’t begin to hide his unhappiness, and took swift action.

  “Santa, would you mind distributing the presents to the children? That would be quicker, I think, and the mothers can begin setting up the refreshments.”

  Taking his cue, Barney went from desk to desk passing out the coloring books. He kept up a brave front, issuing lots of ho-ho-hos, but Lucy knew his heart wasn’t in it. He loved playing Santa and hearing the oohs and aahs and squeals of delight when he passed out the presents, and this year there were only a few polite thank-yous.

  When the refreshments had been served and the children were busy licking the icing off their cupcakes, she approached him.

  “What happened? No donations this year?”

  “I had to refuse ’em. Orders from the top.”

  “What?”

  “Lieutenant Scott. He said it wasn’t appropriate for the safety officer to act like the Salvation Army. Told me to give out antidrug coloring books instead.”

  Lucy picked up one of the coloring books that had been abandoned on a nearby desk and flipped through it. When she got to the outline of a hypodermic needle with a big X through it she groaned and put it back down.

  “My word,” she said, shaking her head. Her first impulse was to sympathize with Barney, but then she remembered Toby and Eddie’s little experiment with pot the day before. “Maybe Tom Scott is on the right track after all….”

  She was interrupted by Lee.

  “Barney Culpepper, I have to talk to you.”

  “Fire away,” said Barney, with a sigh.

  “Maybe Santa could continue this conversation outside,” suggested Lydia. “I think it’s time to wrap things up.”

  A quick glance around the room was enough for Lucy. The little natives, fueled by sugary treats, were getting restless.

  “I hope you have recess next,” she told Lydia.

  “Are you kidding? Today is double recess.” Then she raised her voice, making an announcement to the class. “Children, I’m afraid Santa has to go back to the North Pole now. What do you say?”

  “Thank you, Santa,” chorused the little girls and a few boys.

  “Thanks for nothing, Santa,” grumbled Justin. This was met with hoots of approval by the children.

  “Merry Christmas, everyone!” roared Barney, turning and striding out of the room. A quick exit was definitely his best option.

  Lucy hurried down the hall after him, determined to share her concern about the drug situation at the high school, but she didn’t catch up to him until he was outside, by his cruiser, pulling off the Santa outfit.

  “Hey, you’re going to blow your cover,” she joked.

  “I think it’s blown,” he said, rolling the red suit into a ball and tossing it into the trunk.

 
“You know, what I started to say inside is that this antidrug campaign may not be such a bad idea. I think it’s really needed.” She took a deep breath and forged ahead. “From what I hear, the high school is full of illegal substances.”

  Barney snorted. “Stop the presses,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lucy, this isn’t exactly news, you know. The whole town’s full of the stuff.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen it so bad.”

  That wasn’t quite what Lucy expected to hear. Nevertheless, she plunged on. “Well, if it’s true, then isn’t it important to educate the kids about drugs so they’ll know not to use them?”

  Barney threw up his hands in dismay and stood facing her, arms akimbo. “Let me tell you something, Lucy. All that education stuff sounds good in theory, but you know what, it doesn’t work. The only thing that does work is keeping the drugs out, cutting off the supply. And as long as the only way a lobsterman can make a living is by bringing ’em in, well, we’re not gonna be able to keep the drugs out. Too much money in ’em, and a man who’s having trouble feeding his family or making the payment on his boat isn’t gonna say no.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “You know it.” Barney pulled his heavy belt, complete with gun holster, out of the trunk and strapped it on. “Maybe there is something you could do, though.”

  “What?” Lucy asked eagerly.

  “It isn’t just drugs, you know. The kids especially get into trouble with booze. You know about Tim Rogers?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “Well, we’re having a sting operation. Richie Goodman is going to try to buy booze, and if they sell it to him, we’re gonna issue warnings. It could make a good story for the newspaper.”

  “Sure. Just let me know when, okay?”

  “Deal.” Barney slammed the trunk shut and pulled open the car door, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid Lee, who had followed them out of the school.

  “Barney, I’ve got to talk to you,” she demanded, grabbing his arm. “You know Steve’s innocent, don’t you?”

  “We-e-ll,” began Barney, looking more than ever like a worried St. Bernard. He shook his head dolefully. “I gotta tell you, it doesn’t look good for Doc Cummings.”