Tippy Toe Murder

by Leslie Meier

  Her lashes would flutter, her lips would form a little half smile, and she’d obediently call the girls and say her plans had changed. Gradually, the friends disappeared from her life; even her mother and sister rarely called. Only the old hag was left, sticking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

  A man has a right to a peaceful home, he’d told Louise. Especially a man who works hard and provides extremely well for his family. He required a more private lifestyle in which he could indulge his desires. After all, the demands of his extremely sensual nature were best met in secret.

  He believed in the old saying that a man’s home was his castle. In his home, he was the absolute lord and master. That was how it had been in his father’s house. When he was a boy, he remembered, his own father had been quick to order him to take down his pants so he could apply the belt. “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” or “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” his father used to say as his lips twitched in a little smile.

  Of course, he now knew the old man had been having his little joke when he said that. Whipping his son hadn’t hurt him at all, it had given him enormous satisfaction. Just as he himself derived tremendous pleasure from punishing his wife. The dread in her eyes as he bound her, letting his fingers linger over her skin, and her cries of pain when he lashed her gave him a sense of power and control like no other.

  At first, when Louise told him she wanted a divorce, he hadn’t believed it. She was as much a part of him as his arm or his leg. He’d felt as if he were being drawn and quartered when she said she was leaving him. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.” That’s what the wedding service said, and that’s what he believed. He wouldn’t let her leave, and he certainly wouldn’t let her take Melissa.

  Melissa. He’d adored her from the first moment he saw her, red and wrinkled in the doctor’s hands. “Is she all right? Is everything there?” he’d anxiously asked.

  A few months later when he was bathing her, he’d been unable to resist the temptation of slipping his smallest finger inside her. He just wanted to make sure she was complete, he rationalized. Her eyes had widened in surprise, and then she’d smiled and chortled. She liked it, he decided, there was nothing wrong with it. She was his, after all, just like her mother. She belonged to him. And now he was going to get her back.

  Caro stood in the cabin doorway, looking out. The woods were quiet and still, the air was filled with golden light. Inside, the plain pine walls shone like honey, and bits of mineral in the fieldstone chimney sparkled. Blood-red wild roses, stuffed in a quart jar and set on the table, glowed like jewels in the sunlight. Caro could even see a line of fragile bubbles caught between the water and the glass wall of the jar.

  She took a deep breath of the sweet, woodsy air and thought how lucky she was. The old place was full of memories that comforted and warmed her, like the old sweater she pulled around her shoulders on chilly afternoons.

  Hearing the gentle hum of an approaching car, she looked up and saw Philip Roderick’s black sedan pull into the clearing. Fighting the urge to flee, she forced herself to stand and face him.

  At least the little girl she called Lisa was out of the way for the moment, she thought thankfully. The child was playing in the woods, out of sight of the cabin. Caro hoped she would remember the instructions she had repeated so often.

  Over and over she had told the little girl, “If someone comes to the cabin you must run and hide until they leave and it’s safe to come out.”

  Caro concentrated on taking steady, regular breaths and willed her heart to stop beating so frantically. She clasped her hands together and straightened her back, watching as Roderick mounted the steps and crossed the porch.

  She remembered things Louise had told her about Philip, shameful secrets she could barely speak out loud. How causing pain gave him pleasure, how he loved power and thrived on fear. No matter what happened, she told herself, she mustn’t let him think she was afraid.

  “Philip,” she said, in what she hoped was a conversational tone. “What a surprise.”

  “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?” he demanded, looming over her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered, taking a step backward but looking up at him with steady eyes. Feeling her hands tremble, she shoved them in her pockets.

  He was taller than she remembered, and stronger. Physically, she was no match for him. Without any weapon, with no way of calling for help, she was extremely vulnerable. She would have to rely on her wits to defend herself and the child.

  “Why don’t you come in and talk to me?” she said. “You must be thirsty after your long drive.”

  Her only hope was to convince him she was alone in the cabin. Fortunately, she was neat and tidy by nature and all traces of the child were tucked away.

  “Take a seat,” she suggested, casually going to the refrigerator.

  “Okay,” he said, smiling easily and pulling a chair out from under the table.

  Maybe it would work, she thought, reaching for the pitcher of lemonade and pasting a smile on her face. Maybe she could win him over.

  “We haven’t gotten along very well in the past, have we?” she said. “I can understand why you think I’m hiding Melissa. But I’m not. In fact, I’d like to help you find her.” She poured a glass of lemonade and set it on the table.

  “Really? I’m surprised,” said Roderick.

  “Absolutely. Stability is everything for children, and I know you’ll provide a good home for her.”

  “You’re good,” said Roderick, with a calculating nod. “But you’re not good enough.” He held up a small pink sock. “It was on the chair.”

  “Where did that come from?” she exclaimed. She even managed a little laugh.

  “You’re lying,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him.

  She had underestimated Philip Roderick, she realized with a sinking heart. She hadn’t fooled him, and now she was firmly in his grip. Struggling against him, she tried to think of a way to free herself. She couldn’t bear to think what would happen to the child if Roderick found her.

  “Stand still,” he commanded, and she found herself obeying. Panting from fear and exertion, she watched as he took a length of sturdy cord from his pocket. Bits of self-defense films ran through her mind. A knee to the groin, a quick thrust of the hand, two fingers extended, to his eyes. But even as she remembered the movements she knew she couldn’t perform them. She was overpowered in every way, she realized. She was old and tired. Her best hope was to avoid angering him.

  “Put out your hands,” he ordered. Humiliated, she did, even though they were shaking. “Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want my daughter. Where is she?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered, trying to sound convincing.

  “Cut the crap,” he growled, grabbing the upper part of her arm and dragging her to the doorway. “You’re violating a court order, you know. I’ve got custody of Melissa. You’re breaking the law. Tell me. Now. Where is she?” He tightened his grip on her arm.

  “I don’t know,” insisted Caro, blinking back tears that stung her eyes. She hoped with all her heart that the little girl would stay safely in the woods, far from the cabin.

  “You’re not fooling me. I know she’s here with you,” he said, grabbing her arms by her bound wrists and twisting them painfully. “Call her.”

  Caro gritted her teeth against the pain. “Let go of me,” she said. She hated the way her voice sounded—weak and pitiful.

  He glared at her, eyes narrowed in disgust, and raised his hand. She turned her head just as his fist crashed into her jaw.

  Moaning, she collapsed against the doorjamb and slid to the floor. Her ear roared, the raw skin on her jaw burned, she felt as if the top of her head would explode. She gently explored her mouth with her swollen tongue and tasted blood. Cowering against the doorjamb, she hardly dared to lo
ok at him. She was terrified he would hit her again.

  “Do it now,” he ordered. “Call her.”

  When she remained stubbornly silent he hauled her to her feet.

  “Bitch, bitch, bitch,” he muttered, shaking her by the shoulders. Her vision blurred, but she saw his mouth, spitting the words out at her through his teeth. She tried to turn away.

  She suddenly felt herself flying across the room, so quickly that she didn’t have time to react and break her fall. She fell like a rag doll. She felt blows, kicks jarred her spine, her hips, and she curled into a fetal position. It was dark, and everything was slipping away.

  28

  Lost and found—at studio.

  His rage spent, Philip Roderick went out and stood on the porch.

  “Melissa,” he called softly, letting his tongue slip over the syllables. “Melissa, come to Daddy.”

  Hearing no reply, he scanned the woods surrounding the cabin. He smiled to himself. The little minx. They had played this game before. Hide and seek. He loped down the steps and began searching.

  He was sure she hadn’t gone very far but was hiding nearby, waiting for him to find her. He listened for a soft giggle or a caught breath; he looked for a scrap of bright clothing or a wisp of blond hair. He heard birds. He saw leaves. He’d had enough of the game.

  “Melissa!” he called sharply, resting his hands on his hips. “The game’s over. It’s time to go home.”

  The birds fell silent, the woods were still. There was no sign of his daughter. He heard the thumping strains of rock music from a car radio and caught a sudden flash of light, a reflection from a windshield or chrome bumper. Someone was coming, he realized, thinking guiltily of the old woman in the cabin. Time for a strategic retreat.

  “That must be it,” said Lucy, pointing to a clearing just ahead.

  “This was easier than I expected,” said Tatiana, glancing at her watch. “We made good time.”

  “It was lucky those directions were still in the glove compartment. Being a pack rat has its advantages.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” said Tatiana, casting a disapproving glance at the litter of toys, books, and gum wrappers that filled the Subaru.

  As soon as Lucy braked, Tatiana threw open the car door and leaped out, calling Caro’s name as she ran to the cabin.

  Lucy followed slowly behind her, stiff and tired from the drive. All that was forgotten, however, when she heard Tatiana’s shriek. Heart pounding, she ran to the cabin doorway. She clutched the rough wooden frame for support when she saw Tatiana bending over Caro’s prone body.

  “Is she alive?”

  Tatiana answered with a wordless wail.

  “Don’t move her,” cautioned Lucy, trying to remember the first aid course she’d taken soon after Toby’s birth. Faced with the responsibility of caring for such a fragile young life, she’d wanted to learn all she could. She grabbed a blanket off one of the beds and gently tucked it around the old woman, assessing her condition as she worked. “She’s in shock. We have to get her to a hospital. I’m sure she’s got some broken bones, probably internal bleeding, plus the cuts and bruises we can see.”

  Tatiana wasn’t listening. She was cradling Caro’s head in her arms, sobbing softly over her.

  “You’ll have to pull yourself together,” snapped Lucy. “I can’t take care of the two of you. Help me get this mattress off the cot so we can slip it under her.”

  From her hiding place in the woods, Lisa watched everything. She saw her father arrive in his car and go into the cabin. A while later she saw him come out. She heard him calling her. He wanted to play hide and seek. She curled herself up into a little ball and wished she could disappear. She didn’t like that game.

  When she heard the engine of her father’s car start, she looked up and saw him drive away. A few minutes later another car came into the clearing and two women got out and went into the cabin.

  She wanted to stop hiding and see what was happening inside, but she remembered what Caro had told her. So she stayed in the little hollow at the base of the big pine tree and tried not to move. Her khaki shorts and green T-shirt were good camouflage. She would be discovered only if a searcher stumbled upon her; she was as invisible as a little brown fawn.

  “I’ll get the car,” gasped Lucy. She was out of breath from the exertion of getting the old woman onto the mattress, but she hurried across the clearing. She knew every minute counted.

  As she pulled the car up to the porch and flipped down the seat back to make room for Caro, she looked about the clearing anxiously. Where was the child? What if she was hiding in the woods? They couldn’t leave her there. A child couldn’t survive alone in the forest.

  Back in the cabin, Lucy and Tatiana took opposite sides of the mattress and lifted Caro as gently as they could. Panting and struggling with even her small weight, they carefully carried her out to the car. Tatiana climbed in back beside her, crooning words of comfort and stroking her hand.

  Once the old woman was settled, Lucy knew she had to find the child. She felt desperately tom; anxious to get Caro the help she needed but unwilling to abandon the little girl.

  “Melissa,” she called. If the child was in the woods, she was probably terrified. She tried to make her voice warm and friendly, even though she felt frantic. “Melissa, I’m your friend. We have to get Caro to the hospital. You can’t stay alone in the woods. Please come out.”

  The little girl heard Lucy’s voice, she heard her say that Caro needed to go to the hospital. She remembered Caro warning her about that. “Someone might try to fool you, they might say I was hurt. They might offer you candy. Don’t believe them. Hide. Remember, your friends know what to call you.”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. She was scared, and she wrapped her arms tightly around her knees.

  “Melissa,” called Lucy. Suddenly inspired, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a roll of mints. “I have some candy for you.”

  There was no answer. Lucy walked around the clearing, scanning the woods, looking for any sign of a child. Maybe she wasn’t there after all. What if Roderick had found her and taken her away with him? Maybe she was wasting valuable time that could mean the difference between life and death for Caro.

  She decided to give it one more try. “Melissa,” she called. “Melissa, Meleese, Meleesa,” she sang, remembering how Sara and Elizabeth had special nicknames for their friends. “Melissa, Meleesa, Meleesa.”

  Lucy was astonished when a little girl’s head popped out of the bushes directly in front of her. Her blue eyes were round with fear, and her skin was so pale the freckles on her nose stood out sharply.

  “It’s all right,” said Lucy. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know,” said the child.

  Stunned, Lucy thought how close she’d come to leaving the little girl, and hugged her close. Glancing around uneasily, she thought how dark and threatening the woods seemed.

  “Hurry,” she said, taking Lisa by the hand and running to the car. “Let’s go home.”

  29

  A first aid kit is available backstage.

  Lucy drove along the rough dirt road as quickly as she dared, gripping the steering wheel with trembling hands and trying to avoid the worst of the ruts and potholes.

  Caro appeared to be unconscious, but after one particularly bone-jolting stretch Tatiana saw her eyelids flutter, and she gently stroked the old woman’s forehead.

  “You’re going to be all right,” she told her.

  Looking down at the little girl who was sitting so quietly beside her, Lucy tried to think of something reassuring to say.

  “We’re almost there,” she said. “There’s a store up ahead. We’ll call the ambulance from there.”

  The trees thinned a bit as they drew closer to the main road, and soon Lucy made out the weathered siding of Bickle’s Country Store, HOT COFFEE, BAIT, FOOD read the faded signs beside the door.

  “I need help,” yelled Lucy, running up to th
e counter. A grizzled old character in overalls nodded sympathetically as she explained, “I’ve got a badly injured woman in my car. I need to call the rescue squad.”

  Reaching under the counter he pulled out a phone and shoved it toward her. A label with emergency numbers had been pasted on the receiver, and Lucy dialed as fast as she could. Her hands were still shaking; she wondered when they’d stop.

  “They’ll be here real quick,” said the storekeeper. “Those EMTs is real smart. Sewed up my leg real good last winter.” He hitched up his pant leg and displayed an impressive scar for Lucy’s benefit.

  She nodded her approval. “I’d better get back to the car and see how my friend’s doing. Thanks for the phone.”

  She strained her ears, hoping to hear the faint wail of the ambulance siren as she crossed the gravel parking area, but she didn’t hear anything. She peeked into the car at Caro’s still form, her breathing growing ever more shallow, and prayed the rescue squad wouldn’t be much longer. She was afraid time was running out for Caro.

  Minutes later the ambulance arrived, spitting up gravel as it spun into the parking area, followed by a police cruiser. The sirens were promptly silenced, but the vehicles’ red and blue lights continued to flash, and bursts of static noise from their radios filled the air. The uniformed EMTs immediately began tending to Caro, and the police officer approached Lucy.

  “I need some information,” he said, taking out a black leather notebook. He was wearing dark sunglasses and Lucy could see herself reflected in them as she gave him Caro’s name and address, and her own. When he asked what had happened, Lucy remembered Sue’s warning that the police would have to return Lisa to her father. She knew she had to answer carefully.

  “My friend and I went to visit Caro at her cabin. This is how we found her.”