“I don’t buy that,” said Mimsy. “Eudora might look fragile, but she’s been absolutely horrible to Mireille. She blames her for losing Ed. And remember, it doesn’t take a lot of muscle to pull a trigger.” Mimsy sighed. “I thought you’d be able to help me. That’s why I called. I don’t really know anybody but you in this stinky little town and I thought maybe you could talk some sense into Mireille.”
Lucy sensed Ted looming over her and when she looked up, he handed her a freshly issued brochure from the state outlining new hunting regulations. A yellow sticky note had been attached to the front cover, on which the words summarize this were written in his neat block print.
“I’ve really got to get back to work,” said Lucy, “and I don’t see how I can help you. Mireille’s all grown up. She seems quite capable of taking care of herself and her baby. If you’re really worried about Eudora, I think you should share this information with the police.”
“From what I’ve seen so far, they’re a pretty useless bunch,” said Mimsy.
Ted hadn’t budged. He was still standing behind her chair.
“Well, that’s all I can suggest,” said Lucy. “Thanks for calling. I’ll keep this information in mind.” She hung up and turned to face him. “So what do you want now?” she demanded.
“I just wanted to tell you that Rey Rodriguez dropped off some apple cider and donuts. The cider’s in the fridge and the donuts are by the coffee pot.”
“Oh,” said Lucy, somewhat deflated. “Thanks. I could use a donut.”
Her emotions were in turmoil as she ate three donuts in quick succession and gulped down at least a pint of apple cider. She didn’t really taste any of it as she tried to rationalize the way she brushed off poor Mimsy. She felt horribly guilty, but told herself that Mimsy and Mireille’s problems weren’t her problems. She had plenty of her own, the most pressing of which was the pile of work that was sitting on her desk. That wasn’t all, however. Bill was languishing at home, coping not only with considerable pain but also with depression about his inability to work. It didn’t help matters that they’d parted the way they did, with him stomping off in an angry huff.
It was bad enough that she was swamped at work, but knowing that Bill was mad at her made her feel completely overwhelmed. She didn’t have time for self-pity, she told herself. All she could spare was a nod and a prayer. The nod was an acknowledgment of the whole messy situation—the deaths, the grieving families, the accusations against Matt Rodriguez, the simmering intolerance that had suddenly flared up in the little town, and Bill’s injuries. The prayer was for help and guidance in seeing her own way through, for justice to be done, and for everyone involved to find peace and healing.
Even so, she couldn’t forget the terrible morning when she’d discovered Alison’s body and the whole mess began. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to erase the image of the lovely girl’s drowned body and the streaming hair that floated around her bluish face in the freezing water. That popped into her mind with disturbing frequency. If only she could remember some clue, some bit of information she missed, that would shed light on Alison’s death.
What could possibly have prompted Alison to venture out on thin ice? She wasn’t a child. She was an intelligent young adult familiar with seasonal changes and she certainly would have known the danger. There must have been some reason, some very strong reason that caused her to disregard her own safety and go out onto the thin ice.
She wondered if Alison might have spotted a dog that was in trouble, or even a wild animal like a deer. It was heartrending to witness an animal struggling for survival and Lucy knew from her own experience that it was almost impossible to resist the impulse to help, even when you knew it could be life threatening. She had once seen a mother doe and her fawn stranded on a chunk of floating ice in the pond and had felt terrible about leaving them to their fate, even though she knew there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t endanger her and possibly leave her own family motherless.
On impulse she hurried back to her desk and put in a call to her friend, Barney Culpepper, who had been one of the first police officers to respond to her call that awful morning.
“Barney, I was just wondering. Did you see anything the morning that Alison Franklin drowned that might explain why she went out on the ice? We just got a press release from the DA that says they didn’t find any trace of drugs.”
“Sorry, Lucy,” he replied in a mournful tone. “I keep worrying about that myself. I can’t seem to put that pretty young thing’s face out of my mind.”
“I think maybe she saw a dog or a deer that got in trouble.”
“Could be, Lucy. It seems something like that happens every year. Some do-gooder tries to help and falls through. And half the time, the animal manages to save itself and is just fine. The stupid dog gets itself back on shore, gives a good shake, and wants to go home for a good meal.”
“But did you see any sign of anything like that?”
“Nope. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen that way,” said Barney. “That’s most likely what happened. It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me.”
“Me, too,” said Lucy, reaching for the booklet of revised hunting
