Tippy Toe Murder (20 page)

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Shortly after Lucy and Bill had moved into
the old farmhouse in Tinker’s Cove, they had gone to the Broadbrooks Free
Library and applied for library cards. Lucy had been thrilled when Miss Tilley
told her their house had probably been a station on the Underground Railroad.

“After all,” the librarian told her, “the
original builder, Simon Lothrop, was an abolitionist of the first order. He
originally lived on Center Street, but he sold that house in
1851
and built your house, where he lived
until he died in 1894. It’s always been rumored that he found the house in town
too risky, so he moved out to Red Top Road, where the fugitive slaves wouldn’t
be observed.” Miss Tilley leaned closer. “Are there any secret passages?
Tunnels? Hidden rooms?”

“Not that I know of,” said Lucy. But that
evening they had searched the whole house, top to bottom. Bill took
measurements, they knocked on walls and pried up floorboards, but they couldn’t
find any trace of a hiding place.

“Maybe they meant the root cellar,” said
Lucy, grimacing. She’d had to go down there once to turn off the water when a
pipe burst, and she hadn’t enjoyed the experience. It was dirty and spidery,
accessible only through a trapdoor in a small closet off the pantry, tucked
under the kitchen stairs.

“Those old-timers were pretty thrifty,”
concluded Bill. “If there was a hidden chamber, it was probably converted into
a usable room when the war was over.”

“I’m disappointed,” Lucy told him. “It
would have been neat.”

“I’d be more disappointed if she’d said he
was a pirate, or a miser, instead of an abolitionist. Then there might’ve been
a hoard of gold coins,” speculated Bill.

“Or love letters. Or a diary,” Lucy added
wistfully.

Tonight, when she heard a light tap and
opened the kitchen door to admit three women, Lucy couldn’t help thinking that
the house was finally living up to its reputation as a shelter for fugitives.

“Lucy, this is Paula, from the shelter.”
Sue introduced a slight, wiry woman with tightly curled hair.

“Hi,” said Lucy. “Glad to meet you,” she
added when Paula stretched out her hand. Lucy wasn’t used to shaking hands.

She turned and gave Tatiana a quick hug. “Any
news from the hospital?”

“I spoke to the doctor. He said it was a
real good sign that she made it through surgery. She’s got lots of broken
bones, a bruised kidney, some brain damage. She’s in a coma.”

“She’ll come through it, she’s a fighter,”
said Lucy, trying to sound confident. She wrapped her arm around Tatiana’s
shoulders and led her to the table. “I thought we’d meet here,” she said. “There’s
coffee, and the kids are watching TV in the family room.”

“Fine with me,” agreed Sue, pulling out a
chair. “Paula, why don’t you tell Lucy what you told us in the car?”

“Okay. I called a few people I know. At the
shelter we’re very careful to stay on the right side of the law. It’s taken
years but now we have a good working relationship with the police and the DA
and we don’t want to jeopardize it. But I do have contacts with some people who
are part of an underground network, and your friend Caro was working with them.
My contact was pretty upset when I told her what had happened. They want to get
Melissa into a safe house as soon as possible. Until then, it’s up to us to
protect her.”

“I’m having second thoughts, especially
since Bill’s away tonight,” said Lucy, resting her hands on her tummy. “What if
Roderick followed me home? I wish I could call Barney.” “You can’t do that,
Lucy,” said Sue. “Barney’s a cop and he’d have to hand her over to Roderick.
Remember, he’s got legal custody.”

“Why is Roderick free?” demanded Tatiana. “Why
haven’t they arrested him for attacking Caro? Lucy, what did you tell the
policeman this afternoon?”

“I told him that we didn’t see Caro’s
attacker, and I said Lisa was my daughter. Was that the right thing to do?” she
asked, turning to Paula.

“I would have done exactly what you did,”
said Paula. “But you could be charged with obstructing justice. Maybe even
conspiracy, or kidnapping.”

“I had no idea,” said Lucy, turning pale. “I
was only trying to protect Lisa.”

“You didn’t actually see Roderick, did you?”
asked Paula. Lucy shook her head.

“Of course it was him,” insisted Tatiana. “Who
else could it have been?”

“The police can’t arrest him without
evidence. Only Caro can identify him, and she’s unconscious. He’s still holding
all the cards, believe me.”

“It’s not fair,” complained Tatiana.

“That’s why women like Louise Roderick have
to break the law to protect their children,” said Paula. “Studies show women
are at a real disadvantage in court.”

“So what are we gonna do?” demanded Sue. “Lucy’s
scared, and she ought to be. She could be in real danger out here all alone.
Maybe Lisa’d be safer at my house in town.”

“It would be very risky to move her,” added
Paula. “Thanks for the offer,” said Lucy. “I think she should stay here. She’s
gone through an awful lot for a little girl. I feel like I’m the one reliable
person in her life right now. I want to keep her.”

“Then I’ll stay here with you tonight,”
said Sue.

“Thanks,” said Lucy, smiling at her friend.

“That’s the best plan,” agreed Paula. “The
network will be coming for her tomorrow. Just hang in there till then.”

“How will I know who they are?” asked Lucy.
“Is there a secret password or something?”

“Actually, there is,” said Paula, slightly
embarrassed. “You’ll get a phone call inviting you to a Tupperware party.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” muttered Sue,
rolling her eyes. “As God is my witness,” said Paula. “Tupperware. They’ll give
you a time and place, and you bring the kid. They might come here, in which
case they’ll thank you for hostessing the party and tell you what prizes you
can win.”

“I don’t really have to have a Tupperware
party, do I?” asked Lucy warily.

“No,” said Paula, smiling for the first
time that evening. “It’s just a cover. You’re not going to win any prizes
either. Oh, there’s one other thing. Keep calling her Lisa. It’s important. She
has identification as Lisa Williams. Don’t use the other.” “Okay,” said Lucy as
an explosion of youthful voices erupted in the family room.

“Sounds like bedtime is overdue,” said
Tatiana. “We’d better get going.”

“Be sure you lock up tonight. Don’t take
any chances,” urged Paula, squeezing Lucy’s hand.

“I’ll be careful,” she promised, locking
the door behind them and turning to face Sue.

“What are you looking so glum for, Lucy? I’m
surprised you’re not more excited. This is a real adventure!” Sue’s eyes were
sparkling.

“Well, since you’re so thrilled to be
spending the night in mortal danger, I guess you won’t mind taking the first
shift,” said Lucy, yawning, as she loaded the coffee mugs into the dishwasher. “I’m
going to bed as soon as I get the kids settled. Wake me at two!”

All ensemble dancers’ names appear in
alphabetical order.

Although Lucy was bone-tired and couldn’t
wait to get to bed, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her body refused to relax, and
she found herself replaying the day’s events over and over in her mind. She
panicked every time she remembered how close she’d come to leaving the woods
without Lisa.

The little girl had joined easily in Sara
and Elizabeth’s bedtime routine. Now, teeth brushed, face and hands washed, she
was tucked in the trundle bed in the girl’s room.

Lucy couldn’t understand how any sane
authority could return the child to her father. He seemed nice enough, she
admitted to herself—she’d actually liked him when she met him at the
courthouse. But now she knew his polished appearance and suave manners
concealed a sadistic character.

Why do men do these things, she wondered.

She thought of Franny, so terrified of her
husband that she believed the only way to escape was to kill him. And poor
Kitty

Slack, treated like a servant for years by
a man who certainly abused her mentally, if not physically.

They do it because they can get away with
it, she decided, punching her pillow and turning on the light.

Women had to fight back, Lucy decided.
Giving in just made it worse. They had to demand fair treatment or they’d never
get it. And as soon as Lisa was in the safe house, she promised herself, she
was going to do whatever she could to help Franny. The way to start, of course,
was by finding out who really killed Slack.

She picked up a pad and pencil and began
making a list of possible motives. First, of course, was money. Who would
benefit? She thought of Hancock Smith, bragging to Gerald Asquith in the post
office. Just how far would he go for the historical society, she wondered.

Revenge? Plenty of people, Miss Tilley
included, had reason to hate Morrill Slack. Who knew what grudges and
resentments seethed inside the breasts of these proper New Englanders,
buttoned-down under layers of oxford cloth and virgin wool?

Family? From what she’d learned from Kitty,
she suspected there were plenty of motives there. She knew he was a horrible
husband. What kind of father had he been? Strict? Demanding? Authoritarian? She
was willing to bet Fred had felt the back of a hairbrush or the sting of a belt
more than once.

Slowly, Lucy drew a circle and wrote Kitty’s
and Morrill’s names inside it. Fred and Annemarie went inside another circle,
along with Ben.

Lucy looked at the two circles, then she
crossed out Ben’s name. She rewrote it, placing it inside a small circle of its
own, between the other two.

That was interesting, she thought, yawning.
She began ticking off alibis, calculating hours and minutes. Next thing she
knew, Sue was shaking her.

“Wake up, Lucy. It’s almost three.”

“Three? You were supposed to wake me at
two.”

“You were so tired I wanted to let you
sleep, but I couldn’t do it. I found myself nodding off. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” said Lucy, getting up. “Climb
in before the bed gets cold.”

She stumbled into the bathroom and splashed
cold water on her face. Yawning furiously, she staggered downstairs to the
kitchen and reached for the coffee tin with the plastic scoop inside. Desperate
times called for desperate measures, she rationalized, amused at the pun.

While she waited for the pot to finish
brewing, she walked through the house checking the doors and windows. All was
secure, at least for the moment.

Lucy sat at the kitchen table, sipping her
coffee and staring at the door. She’d made Bill replace the solid door that was
originally there, choosing one with a window so she could watch the children
playing in the yard. Now that seemed a dubious advantage. It would be so easy
for someone like Roderick to smash the glass, reach in, and unlock the door.
She froze in her chair, visualizing a black-gloved hand turning the knob.

What would she do then? She had no weapon;
they were probably the only people in America who didn’t own a gun. They didn’t
even have a dog. Probably a mistake, she decided, getting up to pop a tape in
the portable stereo that stood on the kitchen counter.

A flurry of kicks inside reminded her that
physical confrontation was out of the question. Besides, now that she thought
about it, she didn’t think Roderick would resort to physical violence again.
Paula had said he held all the cards, and Lucy was sure he’d use them.

Most probably he’d show up clutching a
fistful of legal papers, accompanied by an officer of the law. There were plenty
of ways a man could get his way, and most of them were perfectly legal.

Later, standing in the dining room, Lucy
watched the sun rise. Alerted by the birds, who began singing when the sky was
still dark, she went to the east-facing windows.

She waited patiently as the black sky
became gray, then white, and gradually took on a rosy glow. A few small clouds
caught the sun’s first rays and glowed luminously, fading only when the sun
itself climbed above the mountains. The colors promptly disappeared, a veil of
clouds settled in, and another gray day began.

Lucy jumped, startled by the phone, and
hurried to answer before the rings woke everybody up.

“Hello,” she said, afraid Roderick would
answer.

Hearing Bill’s familiar voice—”It’s me”—she
relaxed. “What’s up?” she said.

“I’ve got trouble. The muffler kinda fell
off the truck last night. I can’t drive it this way, so I’m taking it to a
mechanic first thing. Hopefully, I’ll be on the road by ten, home by noon.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Is everything okay?” asked Bill, hearing
the disappointment in her voice.

“Sure,” she answered quickly. “How was the
game?”

“Great. I’ll tell you all about it when I
get home. Love ya.”

Lucy replaced the receiver. Somehow she’d
thought that if she made it through the night, everything would be all right in
the morning when Bill came home. Now she knew how Custer felt when he learned
the reinforcements weren’t coming.

“Mom, am I going to school or what?”
demanded Elizabeth. “Why didn’t you wake me up? It’s late.”

“Is it? I didn’t realize.” Lucy bit her
lip. Elizabeth could make the bus if she hurried, but she didn’t like the idea
of sending her out alone to wait at the bus stop. “On second thought, you might
as well take the day off.”

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth clearly thought
her mother had lost her mind.

“I’m sure. Why rush? School’s almost over
anyway. You can help me make breakfast, okay?”

The three little girls looked so cute
sitting at the table eating their pancakes that Lucy wished Bill hadn’t taken
the new camcorder last night. She got out the instant camera instead.

Peering through the viewfinder, she focused
first on Sara. Impishly, the four-year-old stuck out her tongue, shoved her
thumbs in her ears, and waggled her fingers. Lucy took the picture.

The camera buzzed and produced the exposed
film. Lucy set it on the table and they all watched as Sara’s picture magically
appeared.

Inspired, Elizabeth cupped her hands under
her chin, pulled down the skin under her eyes, and stuck out
her
tongue. Lucy snapped the photo, then focused the camera on Lisa.

In contrast to her own rowdy girls, Lisa
seemed very quiet and withdrawn. She watched their antics as they mugged for
the camera, a wistful expression on her face, but didn’t join in. When she
realized Lucy was going to take her picture, she became self-conscious. Her
round, soft features stiffened and took on a wary, adult expression.

“Okay, girls,” said Lucy, lowering the
camera. “You’ve got to get dressed and make your beds. Then you can show Lisa
your Barbie collection.”

Shooing them out of the kitchen, she
decided they’d have to play indoors today. She wasn’t about to let them out of
the house until Lisa was safely on her way. Checking the clock, she wondered
when Sue would wake up. She didn’t like being alone, and kept peering anxiously
out the window.

Lucy had just finished tidying the kitchen
when Sue clattered down the cramped back staircase.

“These things are dangerous,” exclaimed
Sue, regaining her balance.

“You get used to them. They’re part of the
antique charm.” “How are you holding up?” asked Sue, making a beeline for the
coffeepot.

“I’m a nervous wreck,” answered Lucy. “I
guess I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”

“Any word from our friends at Tupperware?”

“Not even a burp,” quipped Lucy.

“Well, you haven’t lost your sense of
humor.”

“Mommy,” interrupted Sara, tugging at Lucy’s
sleeve. “Can you put this outfit on Barbie for me? It’s too tight.”

“Sure,” said Lucy, adjusting the doll’s
costume. “You know,” she continued, speaking over Sara’s head to Sue, “when
Barbie came to our house she had nothing but the evening gown she was wearing.
I think her date jilted her and left her at the ball. We took her in out of the
kindness of our hearts and she’s done very well for herself. Now she has a town
house, a Ferrari, tons of clothes, and lots of friends. I should be so lucky.”

“It’s an inspiring story,” agreed Sue,
wrapping her hands around her coffee mug. “Let’s go into the family room and
indulge in some mindless depravity.”

“I can’t imagine what you have in mind.”

“Daytime TV, of course.”