Authors: Leslie Meier

Mistletoe Murder (9 page)

BOOK: Mistletoe Murder

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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Christmas Eve really is the longest day of the year, thought Lucy as she glanced at the kitchen clock on her way to bed. It was two in the morning and Bill was still snapping together the dozens of interlocking pieces of the Barbie town house. Everything else was ready. The presents were arranged under the tree, the stockings were filled, and Santa had nibbled his cookies and poured his warm milk down the kitchen drain. The house was quiet; everyone was asleep, presumably dreaming of sugarplums. Lucy went down to the cellar to get the kittens.

She found them all asleep in a pile in a corner of the cardboard box she'd made their temporary home. She picked up the carton and tiptoed upstairs with it. Setting it down next to her bed, she climbed between the sheets and put all three kittens in her lap.

“Time for some exercise,” she told them, and smiled as they climbed clumsily over each other and explored the mysterious hills and valleys her legs made in the covers. She picked each one up and examined it carefully, relieved to find they all appeared healthy, with no sign of fleas.

“Well, what have we got here?” asked Bill, coming into the room and beginning to strip off his clothes.

“Christmas kittens,” said Lucy, admiring the long, lean curve of his back as he bent over and pulled on his pajama pants. “How are we going to manage this? We can't really put them in the kids' stockings.”

“Never you worry,” Bill boasted. “No job is too difficult for Super-Santa!”

“You are a super Santa. Did Barbie's house go together okay?”

“Nothing to it. ” Bill shrugged. “Fifteen pages of directions, innumerable tiny plastic parts, all pink; anyone with a degree in engineering could do it in five hours, easy.”

Lucy laughed. “Don't expect to get any credit. You know what Toby told me? He says he doesn't really believe in Santa, but he can't believe we'd spend that much money on presents!”

“Well, I can see his point. All year long we say, âYou can't have that because it's too expensive,' then at Christmas it's all under the tree.” He lifted the covers to climb into bed, and the kittens all tumbled into Lucy's lap.

She laughed and handed one to Bill. “Aren't they sweet?”

“Almost as sweet as you,” said Bill, nuzzling her neck. “Boy, Dad sure loved those cookies.”

“I think it's the first time I've managed to do anything that pleased him. I was worried he'd choke on those pizelle.”

“When he absolutely has to, he can say something nice. He's a lot happier, though, when he can find something to criticize.” Bill shook his head. “It's too bad. When I was a kid I used to knock myself out trying to please him. I was never good enough for him. If I got a base hit, it should have been a home run. If I got a ninety-five, it should have been a hundred. That's probably why I became a hippie carpenter instead of an insurance underwriter like him.”

“You'd be a terrible insurance underwriter,” said Lucy, stroking his hand. “You're a good father.”

“I don't want to be like him. I make mistakes, but they're not the same ones he made. If Toby strikes out, I tell him he looked good up there. I tell him even Pete Rose strikes out. I tell him he'll get a piece of it next time.”

Lucy snuggled up to him. “How about a piece of it right now?”

“Nope. I'm a liberated modern man. I'm not afraid to admit that I'm too tired.”

“Poor Santa. Well, kittens, it's time to go to sleep.” She put them back in their box one by one and tucked the box in a corner of the room. Then she hopped back into the warm bed and curled around Bill. Nestled together, they were both asleep before they knew it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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“Mommy, can I go downstairs and see if Santa came?” Toby's whisper was so earnest that Lucy had to smile as she groped for the clock.

“It's six o'clock,” he assured her. The family rule was that nobody woke up Mommy and Daddy before six.

“Okay, but be quiet. Don't wake your grandparents. Elizabeth, you go, too, and help carry the stockings.”

Lucy sat up and rubbed her eyes. She yawned and smiled at Bill. “I feel as though I just got to sleep.”

“I'll make coffee,” Bill volunteered, climbing out of bed.

“Sara, hop in here. You must be freezing without your slippers.”

Soon the whole family was gathered in the sleigh bed. Lucy and Bill sipped coffee and smiled indulgently while the children pulled small treasures from their stockings. Reaching into a stocking and finding an oddly shaped, mysterious packageâto Lucy that was what Christmas was all about.

“What's this?” asked Sara, holding up a little catnip mouse.

“It's a cat toy,” Toby informed her. “Santa must have made a mistake.”

“Maybe Santa hasn't heard about Patches,” Elizabeth said reasonably.

“Or maybe he knows something you don't,” said Bill thoughtfully.

“What's that box doing in the corner?” said Lucy. “I didn't put it there.”

“I'll see,” Toby shouted, jumping out of bed. “It's kittens! Three of them!”

“Careful, Toby,” Lucy cautioned as he picked up the carton and brought it over to her. “Look, Santa brought one for each of you. Now, who wants the little orange one?”

“Oh, I do.” Sara sighed and reached for the soft furry bundle.

“Be gentle. Remember, he's just a baby,” said Bill.

“Mom, I want the black one. The black one should go to a boy,” Toby argued.

“Okay. That leaves the calico one for you, Elizabeth. Is that okay?”

“Oh, yes.” Elizabeth sighed. “Calico cats are always girls.”

“Well, that worked out well,” Lucy said. “What are you going to name them?”

“I'm naming mine âSofty,' ” said Sara, “ 'cause he's so soft.”

“I'm naming mine âMac' 'cause he's so tough,” said Toby, holding up a very tiny fluff of black fur with two bright eyes.

“I'm going to wait until I know my kitten better before I name her,” said Elizabeth. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

“I'm sure Santa wants you to take good care of your kittens,” Bill announced. “No rough stuff, make sure they get plenty to eat and lots of rest. Okay, gang?”

As she leaned back against the pillows, watching the children dangle Christmas ribbons for the kittens to chase, Lucy rubbed her eyes and yawned again. Bill put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze as Bill's father appeared in the doorway.

“So, you started Christmas without me? What have you got here, kittens? Well, don't do another thing until you open my present,” he said, producing a large, gaily wrapped box.

“You want us to open this now?” said Bill.

“Right away.”

“But Mom's not up,” Bill protested.

“Doesn't matter. Open it up,” he ordered.

Bill shrugged and began to open the package but stopped in amazement when he realized what it was.

“This is a video camera,” he said as if there were some mistake.

“That's right. You can film the whole day. Hurry up! You're missing some cute shots of the kids and the kittens.”

“Okay, okay. Just let me figure it out.”

“It's ready to go. All you have to do is push that red button.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They're great. Fantastic gadgets.” The older man bounced around them, barely able to restrain himself from grabbing the camera.

Lucy protested, “You really shouldn't have done this. They're so expensive.”

“Nonsense. You only go around once, right? Can't take it with you,” said Bill senior. “Besides, Edna wants videos of the kids so she can show off to her friends.”

Lucy laughed, then threw up her hands in horror as Bill turned the camera on her. “Don't, Bill! I haven't even combed my hair yet.”

“Doesn't matter. It looks like Christmas. It looks just like Christmas should.”

Indeed, the day was just the way Christmas should be. Eventually the two grandmothers appeared in their robes, with their faces washed and hair combed. Forewarned about the video camera, both had dabbed on some lipstick.

Lucy served coffee and juice while the grandparents opened their stockings, and then everyone moved into the family room to open presents.

After waiting such a long time for Christmas, the children hurried through their piles of gifts, ripping off the paper as fast as they could. Toby was fascinated with the giant insects Lucy had found and was also quite taken with the football his grandfather gave him, but he swore he would never wear the argyle sweater Aunt Madeline had sent him. The girls shook their heads over the red sweaters Aunt Madeline had sent them, but they adored the Barbie house, and the dolls, and the ice skates, and all the other wonderful presents they found under the tree.

The grown-ups opened their packages at a more leisurely pace, stopping to admire each new treasure. Lucy was relieved that Bill approved of the red dress she'd bought at The Carriage Trade, especially after she tried it on for him. Bill senior declared he couldn't wait to try out the fly-tying kit, and both grandmothers immediately draped their scarves over their robes. Lucy was extremely touched by a lovely pair of gold earrings from her mother.

“I wanted to give you something special. I don't know what I would have done without you,” her mother said, her eyes glistening with tears.

Lucy worried that the day might be too much for Helen, reminding her of all the Christmases she had shared with her husband. She disappeared for quite a while to get dressed, and when she finally reappeared, she seemed withdrawn and quiet.

“Helen, how about a game of Ping-Pong?” invited Edna. “Elizabeth needs a partner.”

To Lucy's surprise, Helen joined the game and even seemed to enjoy herself. Toby and his father and grandfather all went outside to try out Toby's new archery set, and Lucy fussed over the roast.

At four o'clock the family gathered around the long harvest table for Christmas dinner. Candles shone in crystal holders, the silver gleamed, and the centerpiece of golden glass balls and holly sparkled. The children were dressed in their best clothes, Bill and his dad wore their new plaid sport shirts, and the women were all wearing touches of red. Lucy served the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding; dinner was perfect, even the gravy. Lucy had made chocolate mousse from a recipe Sue Finch guaranteed was foolproof, and everyone adored it.

Finally, when the dishes were all done and put away, and the children changed into their new pajamas, they sat around the TV and watched a replay of the day on the VCR.

“Honestly, this ought to be titled
The Perfect Christmas,
” said Edna.

“I know,” Lucy agreed. They looked up as Bill came into the room.

“Lucy, there's a phone call for you.”

When Lucy picked up the receiver she was surprised to hear a male voice on the other end.

“Mrs. Stone, this is Officer Findlay. I'm calling for Mrs. Culpepper. Her husband's been hurt and she wants you to stay with Eddie so she can go to the hospital.”

“Of course,” said Lucy. “Is he badly hurt?”

“I can't say. I'm not even sure he's alive. His car went off the road near Barrow's Light.”

“Oh, my God,” Lucy said with a gasp. “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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As Lucy sped through the night in her little car, she repeated over and over, “Please let Barney be all right, let Barney be all right.” The car was frigid; the drive was too short for it to warm up, and Lucy's stomach tightened as her hands clenched the wheel. When she pulled up in front of the little ranch house, she was shivering from cold and anxiety.

She tapped on the door and stood blinking in the light and heat that hit her when it was thrown open. Marge looked terrible. Always a large woman, she had given up the struggle to contain her weight some years ago. But now in spite of her bulk she suddenly seemed frail and vulnerable. Her face was pasty white, and the harsh overhead light revealed dark circles under her eyes.

“Don't worry, Marge,” said Lucy, rushing to hug her friend. “I'll stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Lucy.” Marge stepped back but grasped her hands. “I hate to take you from your family at Christmas.”

Feeling Marge's hands trembling, Lucy gave them a gentle squeeze. “Don't be sillyâit can't be helped. I'm glad you called. Honest. Now, get going,” she said, giving her a little shove. “And call me as soon as you have any news.”

Lucy stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Officer Findlay lead Marge down the icy path to the patrol car; then she shut the door firmly against the dark and cold. She tiptoed down the hall. It wasn't difficult to figure out which room was Eddie's. Pausing outside the door that had been left slightly ajar, she peeked in. Enough light from the hall filtered in so that she could see Eddie sleeping peacefully. His face was plump and round, and asleep he looked much younger than he did in the daytime. Although he was a big, strapping boy, he wasn't really very oldâonly ten; like Toby. He still needed his parents, thought Lucy. Both his parents.

Returning to the living room, Lucy sat down on the plaid Herculon couch. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. She was still shivering slightly, and she let out a long, quavering sigh.

The Christmas tree stood in the corner, glimmering as the tinsel wafted gently in the updraft from the baseboard heat. The lights were still on, twinkling gaily, and the opened presents were spread out beneath the pine branches. Among the presents she noticed a hat and scarf set from Country Cousins. It was one of the less expensive items in the catalog and was a very popular gift. Lucy alone had sold hundreds of them. Seeing a little gift card tucked in the corner of the box, she took it out and unfolded it carefully. “To Marge,” the card read, “because you need more than love to keep you warm.” It was signed “Barney.”

Lucy dropped it as if it had suddenly burst into flame in her hand and wrapped her arms around herself. Her glance fell on the worn recliner in the corner that was clearly Barney's chair. The lamp table beside it was well stocked with the hard candies he had sucked on steadily since giving up smoking, and his
TV Guide
and remote control awaited his return.

“Damn,” muttered Lucy. She didn't for a moment believe that Barney's crash had been an accident. He was an expert driver; in fact, he'd taken many specialized driving courses for police officers. He loved driving the big cruiser with its antilock brakes and heavy-duty suspension, and often said that if you knew what to do, you could control any skid.

Of course, the road to Barrow's Light was full of curves, and black ice was always possible this time of year. But Barney would have known that and driven accordingly, thought Lucy.

She rose awkwardly to her feet and went out to the kitchen, remembering the many hours she'd spent babysitting as a teenager. Then, as now, the refrigerator had an undeniable appeal. Marge wouldn't mind if she had a snack. Pulling open the door, she peered in; the remains of the Christmas turkey were wrapped carefully in aluminum foil. Lucy took out the packet and placed it on the table. In the breadbox she found a loaf of homemade bread, and the covered butter dish was placed nearby. Lucy smiled approvingly. She hated refrigerated butter herself and always kept her butter out, except in the hottest days of summer.

With nothing else to do except worry about Barney, she made a project of constructing a sandwich, slicing two perfectly even pieces of bread. She put them in the toaster and watched carefully so she could take them out when they were just lightly toasted. Then she spread them with the soft butter, covering even the corners and watching the butter melt into the little airholes. Taking out a large carving knife, she cut two thin slices of breast meat and laid them on the bread. She dusted the meat with salt and pepper, then fished a head of lettuce out of the crisper and peeled off a nicely wrinkled leaf. Adding this to the sandwich, she placed the second piece of bread on top. With geometric precision she cut the sandwich from corner to corner in four triangles. Opening the refrigerator again, she pulled out a bottle of Moosehead Ale, then sat down at the table to eat her snack.

What if the cruiser had some sort of mechanical failure? It was possible, but unlikely. Barney and the other cops maintained the cruisers themselves, in a garage underneath the police station. They didn't trust the black-and-whites to just any mechanic; they knew their lives could depend on the cars and followed a strict maintenance schedule religiously.

Could the car have been sabotaged? Could someone have cut the brake line? Lucy didn't think so. The saboteur would have been taking an enormous risk, unless he was someone the cops knew wellâsomeone who was above suspicion or perhaps someone who was interested in cars. Lucy couldn't get away from the fact that Sam Miller had been killed in a car, and Barney had almost been killed in his.

Lucy chewed her sandwich and sipped her beer thoughtfully. The last time she'd seen Barney he'd been brimming with life, complaining that his job was boring. Had he finally gotten the high-speed chase he'd wanted? She suspected that whether he knew it or not, he'd discovered something that made him dangerous to Sam Miller's murderer. And whatever it was, it had driven the murderer to attempt a second killing.

If he died, how was Marge going to manage? Now, more than ever, families needed two incomes to get by. In her heart Lucy knew that security was just an illusion. She'd never fallen into the trap her mother had of building her life completely around her husband. Down deep she knew there was only one person she could count onâherself. Paychecks, houses, husbands, children, could all be lost in an instant. There are no certainties in life except death, she thought We are all on slippery ground indeed.

Tragedy, however, was no excuse for leaving dirty dishes. Lucy washed up the dish and knife she'd used and wiped the table. She found a piece of paper and a pencil and began making a list of people who could help Marge. Checking the clock, she realized it was only a little bit past nine, not too late to call Sue.

“Hi, Sueâit's me, Lucy. Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Did I? You'll never guess what Tom gave meâa gorgeous aviator's jacket.”

“Lucky you. But I didn't call to compare Christmas presents. Something terrible's happened.”

“What's the matter?” Sue's voice was immediately full of concern.

Lucy told her the news, including the few details she knew about Barney's crash.

“I just can't believe it. What a terrible thing, especially at Christmas.”

“I know. It's awful here in their house. All the presents are under the tree and everything.”

“Marge will need a lot of help. Her mother's been sick and she doesn't have any other relatives around here.”

“She'll need someone to take care of Eddie,” said Lucy.

“He's good friends with Adam Stillings. Maybe Pam will take him tomorrow.”

“That's a good idea. I better get off the phone and leave the line free. Marge promised to call.”

“Okay. I'll give Pam a call tonight. Adam's probably covering the accident for the
Pennysaver
.”

“Let me know if you hear anything, okay?”

Lucy replaced the receiver and tiptoed down the hall to make sure she hadn't disturbed Eddie. Seeing that he was still sleeping deeply, she went back to the kitchen. She stood leaning against the kitchen sink, savoring the last drops of beer and reading the collection of notices attached to the refrigerator with magnets.

There was a birthday party invitation printed with brightly colored dinosaurs; an identical one was on Lucy's refrigerator. Toby and Eddie and the rest of the Cub Scout den had been invited to Richie Goodman's birthday party. The school calendar and the lunch menus for December were neatly clipped in a magnetic holder, along with the rules for constructing the little Pinewood Derby cars the Cub Scouts would race in January. Lucy made a mental note to have Bill help Eddie since Barney wouldn't be able to. There was a postcard from Opryland that an Aunt Liz had sent last August and a photograph of Barney dressed as a giant bumblebee, which made Lucy grin.

She yawned and glanced at the clock. It was almost ten. She was exhausted, she realized; she had had only a few hours of sleep last night. She checked the TV listings and decided to watch the last hour of
It's a Wonderful Life.
Stretching out on the couch with an afghan over her, she watched only a little bit of the movie before she fell asleep.

Thanks to the Moosehead, she woke up around midnight to go to the bathroom. She switched off the TV and turned off all the lights except for the hall and the outside porch light in case Marge came home. She returned to the couch, and next thing she knew sunlight was streaming through the picture window and the phone was ringing.

“Unnnh,” said Lucy in the direction of the receiver.

“Lucy, it's Marge. Did I wake you?”

“That's okay. How's Barney?”

“They took us to Portland last night in the air ambulance. He was in surgery for five hours and I guess they've put him back together. They say he'll recover well from his physical wounds. The problem is that he's in a coma. He could come out of it anytime, or not at all. We just have to wait.”

“That's awful!” Lucy blurted.

“I know. I'm just trying to be glad he's alive. I'm not giving up hope. He's strong. They said nine out of ten wouldn't have survived the surgery.”

“He'll be fine, Marge, I know he will,” said Lucy, struggling to keep her voice from breaking.

“I'll probably be home this afternoon. I'm going to catch some sleep now, and then Dave Davidson is going to bring me home. He's coming up after services this morning. I hate to askâbut could you keep Eddie?”

“It's no problem. Everyone will want to help.”

Indeed, Lucy could see through the kitchen window that a car was pulling up in front of the house. A short figure climbed out and began walking toward the house carrying a foil-covered dish.

“In fact, here comes Franny Small. I bet she's got a dish of Austrian ravioli for you.”

“I bet she does.” Marge laughed weakly. “It's good to know I can depend on people.”

“You know you can always depend on Franny to bring Austrian ravioli.” Lucy chuckled. “Don't worry about things here. Just take care of yourself and Barney.”

Lucy opened the door for Franny. “Goodness, you're up and about early, Franny. Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks, I have to get Mother to church at eight for choir practice. I had this in the freezer and thought Marge might be able to use it. It's Austrian ravioli.”

Lucy stifled a smile. “That's so sweet of you, Franny. It's still frozen, so I think I'll just put it in the freezer. Goodness knows when Marge will get back.”

“I've got to run, Lucy. Mother hates to be late.”

Lucy was making herself a cup of instant coffee when Eddie appeared in the kitchen, barefoot and in pajamas.

“Where's Mom?”

“Your mom and dad were called away on an emergency last night, Eddie. I spent the night here. What do you usually have for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs.”

“I'll mix 'em up while you get dressed,” Lucy said cheerfully. “And be sure to put something on your feet.”

While she cooked Lucy wondered how to tell Eddie the bad news. She wanted to get some food in him before she told him, and she wanted him to have something else to think about. She quickly dialed Pam Stillings and asked if Eddie could spend the day with Adam.

Eddie soon reappeared, dressed in new Christmas clothes. Lucy set a plate in front of him and sipped her coffee while she watched him eat.

“Did you have a good Christmas, Eddie? What did Santa bring?”

“Electronic football. I really wanted that.”

“Sounds like fun. Maybe you could take it over to Adam's house. I'm going to drop you off there on my way home, okay?”

BOOK: Mistletoe Murder

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