Holiday Murder

by Leslie Meier

  “I can’t believe it!” She shoved Toby in the direction of the house. “How stupid are you? Don’t you know you could get in big trouble?”

  Eddie and Toby glanced at each other and dissolved into giggles.

  “Where did you get it?”

  “It’s all over the school, Mom,” said Toby. “You can get whatever you want.”

  “You can? Like what?”

  “Uppers, downers, heroin, crack . . .”

  “Crack!”

  “Yeah, Mom. Crack.”

  “You’ve actually seen crack?”

  “Well, no,” admitted Toby. “But I’ve heard about it.”

  “And who’s the person who’s got all this stuff?”

  Now the boys weren’t giggling. Their glance was an agreement not to reveal any names.

  “Okay, okay,” said Lucy, backing off. She shook her head. “Boy, your dad isn’t going to like this.”

  “Mom—you’re not gonna tell Dad, are you?”

  “Of course I am. And Eddie’s dad, too.”

  “You can’t do that, Mom,” begged Toby. “Dad’s already pissed off at me.”

  “And my mom’s sick and all—this’ll kill her,” added Eddie.

  Lucy took a deep breath. “Okay,” she finally said. “I won’t tell anybody, but you have to promise not to do this again. Ever. OK?”

  The boys nodded.

  “Now, inside. I’m going to make some coffee.”

  It was all she could think of that might counteract the effect of the marijuana and return the boys to their normal state. Not that they seemed to be out of control. They were content to sit at the table, watching her scoop instant coffee into mugs with bemused expressions on their faces.

  “I can’t believe you’re this stupid,” she hissed at them. “Especially after what happened to Tim Rogers. He got himself into a mess of trouble, and you could, too, if you get caught with marijuana.”

  She poured hot water into the mugs, set them in front of the boys, then made one for herself.

  “And you’ve wasted the whole afternoon,” she couldn’t help adding, glancing at the unfinished applications. “Don’t you want to get this over with and get those damned things in the mail?”

  Toby shrugged and shoveled several spoonfuls of sugar into his mug. “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucy was puzzled. “You have wonderful opportunities ahead of you.” She glanced at Eddie. “Both of you. You’re lucky you have families that will help you get the educations you want.”

  “Dad’s not so keen,” said Toby, stirring his coffee.

  “My dad isn’t either,” admitted Eddie.

  “That’s not exactly true,” said Lucy, with a flash of insight. “They just don’t want to admit that you’re growing up.”

  Toby sook a slurp of coffee. “Really good, Mom. Reeelly good. Taste it, Ed.”

  Eddie gulped down half a cup and smiled. “Yeah, man. Good.”

  Lucy sighed. “Well, I guess you’re not going to finish these today.” Lucy gathered up the papers.

  “What’s the point?” asked Toby. “Look what happened to Tim.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Eddie. “He trained all year long. Made All State and MVP. And then they took away his scholarship. Over nothing.”

  “He lost his scholarship? Because he was arrested?”

  “Bastards took it back,” fumed Eddie.

  Lucy was seized with the desire to grab the two boys by the scruffs of their necks and knock their heads together. Instead, she counted to ten. Then she spoke.

  “You don’t get it, do you? Tim broke the law, that’s why he lost the scholarship. He got drunk and he drove the car and he got caught. It’s nobody’s fault but his own. Get that straight.”

  But looking at them, she knew they didn’t believe her. To them, Tim was just proof that the harder you tried, the more you had to lose. Therefore, you might as well not try in the first place.

  Finishing her coffee, she revised her earlier opinion of “Smart Kids, Smart Choices.” Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. It certainly couldn’t hurt, she thought, watching as the boys finished off the last of the gingersnaps.

  Chapter Nine

  “You’ll ruin your appetites.” Lucy couldn’t help saying it, even though she didn’t think it mattered much to the boys whether they had room for dinner or not.

  Dinner, she realized with a start. She’d forgotten all about it. She had to get the chili cooking, and then she had to do something about getting Eddie home. Normally, Toby would drive him home in her car, but she couldn’t let him do that while he was still feeling the effects of the pot. She would have to do it herself.

  “I’m really angry with you,” she told Toby. “Now I have to rush to get dinner made because I have to drive Eddie home. I can’t believe you boys are so inconsiderate, so irresponsible.”

  “Don’t mean to be, Mom,” said Toby, brushing away a tear. He was clearly coming down from his high, ready to wallow in depression.

  “Get out of here,” said Lucy, losing patience. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to go.”

  The boys thumped up the back stairs to Toby’s room, and soon Lucy heard the repetitive thumps of a rap CD. Scowling to herself, she pulled a pan out of the cupboard and began browning a couple of pounds of ground turkey. While it cooked, she chopped up some onions, then added them to the meat along with some chili powder. She dumped in a few cans of beans and tomatoes, gave the whole mess a stir and covered the pot, setting the heat on low. Then she went in the family room to assign one of the girls to watch the pot.

  Before she could ask Sara to keep an eye on the chilli, Toby and Eddie thundered into the room.

  “You can’t stop us, we’re so tough we’ll drop ya . . .” they cited together in rap style, hunching up their shoulders and leaning forward, stepping from side to side in unison.

  “Mom, Eddie and Toby are acting weird,” said Sara.

  “They’re just fooling around,” said Lucy.

  “Toby was crying—I heard him.” The expression on Sara’s round little face was serious. “And they ate all the cookies.”

  Lucy didn’t know what to say. She certainly didn’t want to give Sara the true explanation for the boys’ mood swings and extraordinary appetites.

  “They’re worried about getting into college,” she finally said, glancing at the dancing duo. “Stress can make you do strange things. Listen, Peanut. I have to get some milk, so I’m going to take Eddie home. Will you watch the chili for me? Give it a stir now and then and if it looks like it’s cooking too hard, just turn the stove off. OK?”

  “OK, Mom.”

  “C’mon, boys—it’s time to go.” Lucy herded the two gangsta rappers out of the family room and into the kitchen, where she handed them their jackets.

  “Have you got all your stuff?” she asked Eddie.

  “Yeah, I think so,” said Eddie, taking his backpack from her.

  She was sure he didn’t have a clue. In fact, neither did Toby. The two were standing in the kitchen, waiting to be told what to do next.

  “Car.”

  They nodded and shuffled out the door. She followed, shaking her head. It must be true, she thought. Pot today must be stronger than it was when she was in college. She’d smoked it a few times herself back then, but she didn’t remember it having much of an effect.

  Getting the seat belts fastened seemed to be quite beyond both boys so Lucy helped strap them in. Just like when they were little, she thought. Only then they were cute; now they were really beginning to get on her nerves. She climbed in behind the wheel and started the car. Her favorite classical radio station came on and the boys groaned, so she switched to WRPP, their favorite, to pacify them.

  A song, or something like a song, was just ending, and the five o’clock news was next. After a string of commercials for cars, soft drinks, and a record store, they heard the familiar voice of deejay Fat Fred.

/>   “We start tonight’s news with a live report from Tinker’s Cove, where state police have arrested dentist Steve Cummings, charging him with the murder of Tucker Whitney last Wednesday. State Police Lieutenant Horowitz made the announcement just moments ago.”

  Lucy’s right hand left the steering wheel and rested on her lips, she used her left hand to pilot the car down the driveway and on to Red Top Road. As much as she expected this. turn of events, it still shocked her. She listened to the sound bite with Horowitz’s voice.

  “The swift conclusion of this investigation was possible largely due to the efforts of the Tinker’s Cove Police Department; in particular the crime-scene management of Lieutenant Tom Scott made possible the preservation of crucial evidence.”

  Then it was back to Fat Fred, who said Dr. Cummings would be arraigned in superior court the next morning.

  Wow, thought Lucy. She’d never known Horowitz to share credit for an arrest. Wasn’t Barney always complaining that while the local cops did much of the grunt work in criminal investigations the state police always acted as if they’d done everything?

  “Say, man, isn’t that your dentist?” Toby asked Eddie.

  “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 chilli. 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 lunch 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.