“You are indeed a strange creature,” said Lucy, watching the performance. As she turned the water off, she wondered if it really was true that turkeys could drown in the rain because they wouldn’t shut their beaks.
“Not even turkeys are that stupid,” she told TomTom.
He blinked in agreement.
Returning to her car, Lucy congratulated herself. Between Kadjo and TomTom, she had really become quite a friend to animals. Furthermore, she’d made some progress on her investigation. She could now eliminate Andy Brown from her list of suspects. All indications were that he and the rest of the family were away from the farm. His alibi appeared to be ironclad.
CHAPTER 14
“Sara, will you get that?” Lucy was stripping the meat off the turkey carcass so she could make soup and her hands were too greasy to answer the phone.
“It’s for you,” said Sara, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. “It’s Miss Tilley.”
Lucy felt exactly as if the teacher had called on her in class and she hadn’t done her homework. She washed her hands and took the phone.
“You caught me up to my elbows in soup fixings,” said Lucy to explain the delay.
“Is that what you’ve been doing, making soup instead of finding out who killed Curt?”
“I’ve made some progress,” said Lucy. “I’ve eliminated Andy Brown from my list of suspects.”
“I wouldn’t call that progress,” said Miss Tilley, adding a little snort. “Everybody knows the Browns are in New York—they were even on TV.”
“Well, I went out to the farm to make sure,” said Lucy, wishing she didn’t feel quite so incompetent. “That’s one thing I’ve learned, you know. When it comes to an investigation like this, you can’t take things for granted. You have to check and double-check everything.”
“Maybe you’d like to double-check this,” snapped Miss Tilley. “Rachel’s here, you know, and she told me the police have some solid evidence. It’s supposed to be very hush-hush but the police chief told Bob, Rachel’s husband. Those two are thick as thieves, you know, Bob being a lawyer and all.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Rachel didn’t know but she said it’s something important.”
“I wonder what it is,” said Lucy.
“I thought you’d be interested,” said Miss Tilley, sounding smug. “Rachel also said that Bob had a meeting with Howard White and Jonathan Franke and some other people who are opposed to the casino. Bob told her they were shedding no tears over Curt.”
“I can see why,” said Lucy, remembering the pie sale. “Curt could have been quite an embarrassment to them. He was claiming the town couldn’t use the zoning regulations to keep the casino out because they’d ignored them and given Andy Brown preferential treatment.”
“Of course they did,” said Miss Tilley. “Electric signs, a talking pumpkin—it’s scandalous. I never could abide Howard White, you know. He’s the sort who puts overdue library books in the book return slot so he won’t have to pay the fine. Sneaky—that’s what I’d call him.”
Lucy couldn’t help smiling at this proof of Miss Tilley’s willingness to think the worst of everyone.
“Oh, Howard seems okay to me,” said Lucy. “And he’s right. It was all by the book. Brown applied for variances, just the way he was supposed to.”
“Well, maybe you’d better do some of your double-checking,” said Miss Tilley, adding a humph. “If you ask me, I don’t doubt for one minute that Howard White is capable of murder. He routinely returned books with broken backs.”
“I’ll look into it,” said Lucy.
As she turned to put the heavy stock pot on the stove, Lucy’s eye was caught by Elizabeth, who was making herself a cup of coffee. This was not the usual mussed-up version of herself that Elizabeth typically presented in the morning; today she had dressed and combed her hair before coming downstairs. She had even, Lucy noticed on closer inspection, applied mascara and eyeliner.
Lucy was dying to know what the occasion was, but she knew better than to ask. All would be revealed, she told herself, if she was patient. Biting her tongue, she wrapped the extra turkey meat into a neat package and tucked it in the refrigerator.
She was wiping off the counter when Toby and Matt staggered in, barefoot and unshaven, in the same rumpled T-shirts and jeans they’d apparently slept in.
“Do we have any eggs?” asked Toby. “Matt and I want to fry some up.”
“Sure. Help yourselves.”
Lucy poured herself a second cup of coffee and joined the girls at the table. Elizabeth, she noticed, was watching Matt as he and Toby jostled to open the refrigerator door.
“Would you make one for me?” asked Elizabeth.
Lucy’s eyes met Sara’s across the table.
“You never eat eggs!” exclaimed Sara.
“Is that true?” asked Matt, lifting up his shirt and scratching his stomach.
“Of course not,” said Elizabeth, furiously batting her eyelashes. “I love a well-cooked egg and I bet you know how to make them just right.”
“I am pretty good with eggs,” admitted Matt.
“Yeah, right,” said Toby, handing him the box. “Just try not to break all the yolks this time.”
“Sure thing. Elizabeth, how do you want yours?”
“Oh, over easy,” said Elizabeth, seductively drawling the words.
Lucy almost choked on her coffee. “So what are you guys going to do today?” she asked. “Are you going to the parade?”
“There’s a parade?” Matt paused, holding an egg in his hand.
“Every year. Santa Claus comes.”
“The elves, too,” added Sara.
“Well, that is tempting,” said Matt, cracking the egg on the side of the pan. “But I think I’ll pass.”
“Well, if you’re looking for something to do, Pam Stillings told me they could use some help at the food pantry. It’s open today and they’re expecting quite a crowd.”
Toby and Matt nodded. “Sure. We can help.”
“I’ll come, too,” said Elizabeth.
