Tippy Toe Murder

by Leslie Meier

  “Any idea who attacked her? Did she have any enemies?” Lucy shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “Who’s this?” asked the officer, glancing at Lisa.

  “My daughter,” answered Lucy quickly, surprised that she could tell such a bold lie so easily. She put a protective hand on Lisa’s shoulder and drew her close.

  The officer made a notation in his pad, thanked her, and conferred with the EMTs. They had efficiently transferred Caro to a stretcher, applied an oxygen mask, and started an IV, and they were ready to whisk her away.

  Tatiana, who had been hovering nearby, asked if she could accompany Caro to the hospital.

  “No reason why you can’t,” one of the EMTs told her sympathetically. “But she’ll be going straight into surgery. You might end up waiting for hours. Why don’t you go home and call later?”

  Tatiana seemed unsure what to do. She turned to Lucy. “You can’t do anything at the hospital.”

  “Okay.” Tatiana nodded. “Take good care of her.”

  “That’s guaranteed,” said the EMT.

  They watched as the ambulance sped off, siren blaring and lights flashing. Lucy glanced at the officer; he was leaning against his cruiser filling out a report.

  “Can we go?” she called.

  He gave a wave, which she took for permission, and they all climbed back in the Subaru. Lucy rested her head on the steering wheel and let her arms fall into her lap.

  “I don’t know if I can drive,” she said. “I’m so tired.”

  “I know,” agreed Tatiana. “It’s like a bad dream, but I can’t wake up.”

  “We need sugar or something.”

  “I’ll get sodas from the store,” offered Tatiana.

  She watched as Tatiana went into the store. The ballerina wasn’t graceful today, she was moving woodenly, reminding

  Lucy of shell-shocked refugees on TV news clips. Lucy turned to Lisa, who was sitting beside her.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, starting the engine. “I’ll take care of you.” It was a promise.

  The rest of the day was a blur to Lucy. They returned to Tinker’s Cove, and she dropped off Tatiana. Then she drove to Sue’s to retrieve the girls.

  “Lucy, what happened? You look ill. Do you want some tea?”

  “No. I want to go home. I’ll call you, okay?”

  Back in the car, an exhausted Lucy thought this was surely the longest day in her life.

  Sara and Elizabeth were full of energy, however, and thrilled to learn that Lisa would be staying with them for a few days. No explanation seemed necessary, so Lucy didn’t give one. The girls were used to having their family expand when their friends slept over, or when Lucy babysat.

  Bill, however, might not be satisfied with such a casual explanation. Lucy was trying to think up a plausible story when she pulled off Red Top Road into her own driveway. She was surprised when she saw Bill and Toby ready to leave in the pickup; she’d completely forgotten they were going to the Red Sox game tonight.

  “I got the camcorder,” said Bill, holding up a vinyl case for her to see. He was grinning broadly.

  “Great.” She couldn’t help smiling, too. He looked so happy.

  “Fred said he’ll be by tomorrow with the check.”

  “Okay. Have a good time,” she called, waving goodbye.

  It wasn’t until she’d ushered the girls into the house that she realized she would be alone with them for the night and they might all be in some danger. Philip Roderick hadn’t hesitated to beat up Caro; he was a violent man. What could she do if he tried to take Melissa, alias Lisa? She hadn’t noticed anyone following them, the few times she’d thought to check her rearview mirror. That didn’t mean anything, she realized—he could get her name and address from the Bridgton police. Lucy shivered, and shot the bolt on the kitchen door.

  30

  Thank you to the volunteers who make the show run so smoothly.

  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 ki
dnapping.”

  “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!”

  31

  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.