Part 16 (1/2)
”Yes. Tea. We'll have a cup of tea in the cafeteria and you can pull yourself together and then you can see Eddie.” Lucy had to admit her motives were mixed. She wanted to help Lily, who was obviously in trouble, but she also hoped to ask her a few questions about her mother.
Lily was staring at her warily, as if she sensed a trap. ”Who are you, anyway?” she demanded.
”I'm Sara's mom. You know, Sara works at the shop with you.”
”Right.” Lily bit her lip. ”Mom's gonna be mad. I better get back to the shop.”
Lucy's jaw dropped. Dora was in jail, awaiting arraignment for murder, and had bigger things to worry about. But before she could say a word, Lily disappeared back through the door. Lucy started after her, but by the time she got outside, Lily was in the truck and speeding out of the parking lot.
Shaking her head, Lucy headed for her own car, pulling the list of errands out of her pocket. Post office. Right. She checked her watch and discovered she just had time to make it before it closed at noon. But as she drove along the familiar roads, she struggled to figure out what was going on with Lily. The poor girl was clearly an emotional mess, but who could blame her? Considering everything that had happened to her, it was no wonder she was struggling. Thank goodness she had her grandmother and great-grandmother, Flora and Fern, to take care of her.
Leaving the post office, Lucy noticed the lights were on in the Pennysaver office and decided on impulse to stop in. As she suspected, Ted was there, hunched over his desk.
”Hi,” she said. ”What are you doing here on a Sat.u.r.day? You should be getting ready for the ball tonight.”
Ted laughed. ”I won't need much time, but Pam is making a day of it. She's getting the works at the Salt Aire Spa.”
”Lucky her.” Lucy felt a twinge of jealousy but resolutely ignored it. ”Did you hear about Dora?” she asked.
”That's why I'm here. The cops had a press conference this morning. Horowitz was unusually chatty.”
”Really?” Lucy had taken off her hat and gloves and was loosening her scarf. ”What did he say?”
Ted stopped typing and looked at her, twisting his mouth into a scowl. ”I don't know. Maybe I'm hallucinating or something, but I got the feeling something was going on. It's all circ.u.mstantial, there were no witnesses... .”
”You'd hardly expect a witness.”
”It's more than that. They didn't have a weapon, no concrete evidence. Just a theory.”
”That she was a woman spurned?” Lucy's voice was dramatic.
Ted nodded. ”Yeah. She killed Tamzin out of jealousy, and they're reopening the investigation into Max's death, figuring to charge her with that, too.”
Lucy sat down, mas.h.i.+ng her hat, gloves, and scarf together in her lap. ”I expected as much.” She sighed. ”What about Tamzin? Any family?” She paused. ”How old was she, anyway?”
Ted laughed. ”You women are all alike-that's what Pam wanted to know, too.”
”And?” prompted Lucy.
”Forty-six.”
”I knew it!” crowed Lucy. ”I knew she was no spring chicken!”
”She was well preserved, you've got to give her that,” said Ted. ”And there's a husband... .”
”A husband?”
”Well, an ex. Career army, in Afghanistan. They stayed in touch, there were letters and photos in her apartment.”
”I had no idea.” Lucy suddenly felt ashamed of her uncharitable opinions of Tamzin.
Ted shrugged. ”n.o.body did.”
When Lucy returned to the church bas.e.m.e.nt later that afternoon for the judging, she found the air was heavy with the scent of sugar and chocolate. The tables Sid had arranged under Sue's instructions were now covered with white cloths and packed with desserts of all kinds, arranged by category. There was a table with nothing but pies and fruit tarts, another with cookies and cupcakes, and several others devoted to all sorts of chocolate treats. Smaller tables with red balloon centerpieces and chairs were scattered around the room, ready for the customers who would buy the treats after the judging, and then consume them along with tea and coffee. Just looking at all the goodies was enough to cause a diabetic coma, but n.o.body was interested in checking them out. Instead, everybody was talking about Dora's arrest. That was fine with Lucy, who was relieved that news of Eddie Culpepper's overdose hadn't reached the grapevine yet.
”She was always a prankster,” recalled Franny Small, her face unnaturally smooth and tight thanks to a recent face-lift. Franny owned a wildly successful jewelry company and could afford anything she wanted; her Lexus was parked outside. ”I remember she got in trouble when she was in high school-something about an effigy of the princ.i.p.al.”
”It wasn't an effigy,” offered Luanne Roth, who had recently contacted Lucy about publicizing the twentieth reunion of her cla.s.s at Tinker's Cove High School. ”We were in the same cla.s.s, you know, and there was quite a fuss. It was a sign. A bed sheet they hung from the roof that said something bad about Mr. Wilkerson; he was the princ.i.p.al then. I can't remember exactly what it said but it was insulting.”
”They let her graduate but they kicked her out of the National Honor Society,” said Lydia Volpe. Now retired, Lydia had taught kindergarten to all four of Lucy's kids. ”It was quite a scandal at the time. The police prosecuted and she was on probation and had to perform community service and couldn't go to college right away. They postponed her admission until her probation was completed.” She paused, her huge brown eyes momentarily unfocused as she dredged her memory. ”I don't know if she ever did go, now that I think about it.”
”I think she went right to work in the shop,” said Luanne.
”She got pregnant,” said Franny, with a little sniff.
”That's right,” agreed Lydia. ”We had quite a little flurry of teen pregnancies around then.”
”Well, I know Dora has a unique sense of humor, but getting in trouble for a high school stunt is one thing and murder is another,” said Lucy.
”A double murder,” offered Dot Kirwan, joining the knot of gossipers. They all looked at her expectantly, knowing she was the police chief's mother and most likely had the latest information. ”They're most likely charging her with Max's murder, too.”
”Now that I don't believe,” said Luanne. ”They've been on and off ever since junior high school. I mean, even though they're divorced, I still think of them as a couple. I think everybody who was in school with them does. They were always fighting and making up. The girls would side with Dora and the boys with Max; it was high drama in the cafeteria. A real soap opera, a new installment every day.”
”Well, if it was a soap opera, this was the final episode,” said Dot. ”They've got witnesses who saw Dora on the ice, arguing with Max, the evening before he was killed.”
If that was true it was bad news for Dora, thought Lucy, who remembered Barney telling her that Dora said the last time she saw Max was at the house, when he came to help her with her car. Did she lie, or were the witnesses mistaken? Was it Dora, or someone else?
”Max had been seeing a lot of Tamzin,” said Luanne, who worked at the Irish pub by the harbor. ”They came in for drinks quite a few times.”
”A cla.s.sic love triangle with a tragic ending,” said Lydia, welling up with tears. ”I remember Max and Dora, they were in some of my first cla.s.ses. I had such high hopes for them-especially Dora. She was such a bright little thing.”
Lucy gave her a hug. ”Well, she's innocent until proven guilty.”
”That's right,” said Dot, with a smart nod. ”If you ask me, I don't think Dora would hurt a fly.”
”You know she makes those dirty chocolates,” said Franny, pursing her lips with disapproval. ”She sells them on the Internet.”
”I've seen the chocolates-they're not offensive,” said Lucy. ”My own daughter works there, packing them, and I certainly wouldn't let her handle anything I didn't approve of.”
”Dora's always marched to her own drummer,” said Dot, ”but that doesn't make her a murderer.”
”Is the case against her strong?” asked Lucy. ”They must have evidence... .”
”Circ.u.mstantial,” said Dot. ”And she's a smart girl. Last I heard, she's refusing to talk to investigators-you know most perpetrators are only too happy to incriminate themselves. My Jim says if it wasn't for the fact that the bad guys aren't too smart and love to talk, they'd hardly convict anybody.”
”I saw Flora this morning,” said Lucy. ”She said they're looking for a lawyer.”
”Smart,” said Dot, with an approving nod. ”That's the other thing in Dora's favor. She's got a lot of support from her family.”
”That's for sure,” agreed Lydia. ”Flora was always there for every conference, every school event. And Fern, too. And then when Lily came along, all three of them would show up.”