Part 14 (2/2)

The girls shuffled off through the curtained doorway and Lucy approached the counter, adopting a sympathetic expression. ”I can't believe the police suspect Dora,” she began.

”It's nonsense,” said Flora.

”I know Dora likes a good joke but she'd never kill anybody,” prompted Lucy.

”Of course not.”

Flora was known for being close-mouthed, but Lucy was hoping distress would make her a bit more talkative. So far this was tough going. ”Did they say what sort of evidence they've got against her?”

”Nope.”

”They just came and arrested her?”

”Yup.”

”When was that?”

”Last night, around eight o'clock. They came to the house.” Flora paused. ”Good thing she hadn't put on her pajamas like she usually does to watch TV.”

Lucy could just imagine the scene. Police rus.h.i.+ng into the cozy old Victorian, guns drawn, upsetting potted plants and knocking over tables. ”That must have been terrible.”

”They were very polite, I'll say that for them.”

Lucy realized she'd let her imagination run away with her. ”Even so, it must have been very upsetting. How are Lily and Fern?”

”They're not crying into their milk, that's for sure. They're checking out lawyers; we want to get the best for our Dora.”

”Of course,” said Lucy, struck with the woman's brisk efficiency and determination. The police probably hadn't gotten Dora into the cruiser before Flora was organizing the family and a.s.signing jobs. ”Let me know if I can do anything.”

Flora gave her a look. ”Lucy Stone, I've known you forever and I like you fine, but I know you work for the paper so don't be thinking I'm going to tell you anything I don't want to see in print.”

Lucy felt as if she'd been slapped across the face, but she had to admit the woman had a point. ”I understand,” she said, turning to go. At the door, she paused and turned. ”The offer to help still stands, and I won't print anything you tell me is off the record.”

Flora narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. ”Hmph,” she said.

Typical Mainer, thought Lucy, leaving the shop.

The dessert contest was taking place at the Community Church so that's where Lucy went next. The parking lot was a slick sheet of gla.s.s so she walked slowly, keeping her weight forward and praying she wouldn't slip and drop the cake. Sue was inside the bas.e.m.e.nt fellows.h.i.+p hall, instructing her husband, Sid, where to set up tables.

”After the judging we'll be selling portions of the desserts, as well as coffee and tea,” she was saying, when she spotted Lucy. ”Hi, Lucy. You're the first.” Sue waved a hand at the large, empty room with a stage at one end and a kitchen at the other, separated by a serving counter. ”We're not ready yet. You can put your entry on the kitchen counter. What did you make? Can I have a peek?” she asked, crossing the room.

Sid, a dark-haired man with a mustache, was lifting one of the big folding tables off the wheeled rack where they were stored. ”Hi, Lucy,” he called. ”How's the family?”

”Everybody's fine,” she replied, setting the cake on the counter. ”It's cheesecake,” she told Sue. ”With blueberries.”

Sue frowned, picking at the foil with one finger. ”Cheesecake?”

”Yeah. What's wrong with cheesecake?” Lucy asked, defensively.

”Somehow blueberry cheesecake doesn't say Valentine's Day to me. It says summer, maybe at a clambake.”

”Too bad,” snapped Lucy. ”Cheesecake's what I felt like making... .”

”Yeah, I can see how you didn't want to mess with chocolate, after finding Tamzin's body,” admitted Sue. ”I'm just telling you because I don't think the judges are going to love cheesecake.”

”I like cheesecake just fine,” said Sid, flipping one of the tables over and unfolding its legs. His tight T-s.h.i.+rt revealed his muscular build; he worked as a closet installer and stayed fit, carrying heavy prebuilt components upstairs and down and wrestling them into place.

”Did you hear the news?” asked Lucy. ”Dora's been arrested for Tamzin's murder.”

Sue put the cheesecake down. ”Are you sure?”

”Yeah. It was just on the news.”

Sue was silent for a moment, absorbing this news. ”Well, if you ask me, she did us all a favor. That woman was nothing but trouble.”

”Meow,” said Sid, grabbing another table.

”If it wasn't for the heavy lifting-and his spider-killing ability-I wouldn't keep him around,” said Sue. ”What about Max? Do they think she killed him, too?”

”The radio didn't say, but I wouldn't be surprised.” Lucy leaned her back against the counter and pulled off her gloves. ”The killings were similar, bizarre, and Dora does have an odd sense of humor.”

”I can't say I miss Max, myself, and I bet I'm not the only one,” volunteered Sid. ”He'd beg you to help with a job and then if he paid you at all, he paid late.”

”I dunno,” said Lucy, thoughtfully. ”From what I've heard, he was pretty popular, in spite of his money problems. And if there's one person in town I'd expect to really miss Max, it would be Dora. There was something going on between them, even if they were divorced.”

”And Lily,” added Sue. ”He loved his daughter, and she loved him. You've got to give him that.” She gave Lucy a look. ”Why don't you take your coat off and help us out here?”

Lucy looked at the vast empty room and the waiting racks of tables and chairs; just looking made her back ache. ”Uh, thanks for the irresistible invitation but I've got a bunch of errands to do.”

”Be like that,” muttered Sue.

Lucy ignored her. ”How's Chris? Are she and Brad okay?” Lucy was feeling guilty about mentioning Brad to the police.

”I think they'll be just fine, now that Tamzin's out of the picture.”

”I wonder,” mused Lucy. ”Did the cops question Chris? She had a motive, after all.”

”They did,” said Sue. ”But she had an alibi. We were together Thursday night, working late, writing up student reports.”

”How late did you work? She could've gone to the shop afterwards and knocked off Tamzin.”

”No way. Brad took the SUV that day because of the weather, so she didn't have a car. He dropped her off in the morning and I drove her home that night.” She paused, clearly remembering something. ”In fact,” she said slowly, ”the lights were on at Chanticleer when we drove by and I remember thinking it was awfully late for anybody to be in the store, especially since they don't actually make the chocolates there. I even looked at the clock in the car. It was a little past nine.” She shuddered. ”Do you think that's when the murder took place? Isn't that creepy?”

”Yeah,” said Lucy, wondering if the police had established a time of death for Tamzin's murder.

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