She reached for a tissue and gave her nose a good blow, then took another and wiped her eyes. If she was this upset, she thought, popping another piece of chocolate in her mouth, what must poor little Tiffani be going through? Was she spending the night with strangers in some foster home? Had some unfamiliar woman bathed her and dressed her in borrowed pajamas, then tucked her into a bed that wasn’t her own? Was she terrified that she’d never see her family again?
Lucy sniffled again and Kudo raised his head from the dog bed, where he had been snoozing. He looked at her curiously. He got up slowly and stretched, then clicked across the floor to her and rested his head on her lap.
At least someone understands, thought Lucy, stroking the thick fur on the dog’s neck. She hoped Tiffani had found some similar comfort, maybe a teddy bear, to get her through the night.
Bob had promised to check on the little girl for her, but Lucy wasn’t entirely confident he’d remember. Tomorrow she’d check with Sue at the day care center and make sure Tiffani was back where she belonged. Then, she promised herself, she would drop the whole thing.
But what about Jonathan Franke? she asked herself as she sucked the chocolate off a piece of almond. She couldn’t just forget about him, especially since he seemed to have such a strong motive for killing Nolan. No, she thought, picking up another piece of chocolate, she had to alert the police to her suspicions. Once she’d done that, then she could retire from the investigation and turn her attention where it belonged: to her home and family.
CHAPTER 19
When Lucy stopped at the day care center the next morning her heart almost stopped when she didn’t see Tiffani playing with the other children.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Sue.
“It’s what I’m not seeing,” said Lucy, frantic with worry. “Where’s Tiffani?”
“Her mom called. She’s keeping her home today.” Sue paused, giving her an odd look. “What’s it to you?”
“She’s home and everything’s okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It’s a long story,” said Lucy.
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Sue, casting an eye at the roomful of children. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Well,” began Lucy, taking a child-size seat next to Sue’s desk, “I saw her at the funeral yesterday. She’d gotten separated from her mother or whomever she was with and was wandering around lost in the crowd. I tried to help her, but ended up getting arrested myself.”
“No!”
“Yes. It was horrible. Jail isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I can imagine,” said Sue, expertly surveying the play area, where the little girls were chattering in the dress-up corner and the boys were divided between the blocks and the sand table. “How come you went to the funeral? I didn’t know you knew Curt Nolan.”
“I didn’t. I went to support Ellie Martin. I got to know her when I interviewed her for the story I wrote about the dolls. She and Curt were in a relationship, so this has all been pretty tough on her. I’ve been trying to help—I even took the dog.”
Sue stared at her. “You’ve got a dog?”
“Curt Nolan’s dog.”
“Kadjo?” exclaimed Sue in disbelief. “The one that killed the chickens?”
“We call him Kudo now. He’s not a bad dog at all really. I’ve gotten kind of attached to him.”
Sue gave her a knowing look. “Ah, an empty-nest puppy.”
Lucy shook her head. “Don’t be silly. He just needed a home.”
“Right,” said Sue, furrowing her brow. “Harry, please don’t throw the sand.”
“I never heard anything so silly,” continued Lucy. “It would be crazy to try to replace Toby with a dog.”
“If you say so,” said Sue. “Harry, this is a warning. If you do that again you’ll have to go to time-out.”
Harry threw down his shovel and went over to the shelves, where he took down a big dump truck and started pushing it around on the floor.
“You know,” said Lucy, “I never did get Tiffani’s last name. What is it?”
“Sykes.” Sue was on her feet, keeping an eye on Harry while she poured glasses of juice.
“Sykes ! Is she related to Bear Sykes ?”
“You bet,” said Sue, carrying the tray of juice cups over to a low table and setting it down. “She’s his granddaughter.”
Lucy brought over the graham crackers and unwrapped them. “I guess that explains what she was doing at the demonstration.”
Sue nodded, passing out the crackers to the children. “You won’t believe this,” she said, whispering. “He wanted me to bring all the day care kids, but I told him it wasn’t appropriate.”
“He wanted you to bring the kids to the demonstration?” Lucy was appalled. “Where’d he get such an idea?”
Sue took a bite of cracker. “About half the kids here are Metinnicut, you know. He’s been after me for quite a while to add Metinnicut songs and stories to the curriculum.”
Sue lowered her head, studying her carefully manicured nails. Her face was hidden by a fall of glossy black hair, which Lucy happened to know was testament to her colorist’s skill. “I know I should. I mean, I really try to be multicultural. We sing songs from all over the world, so why not Indian songs? I’m really not opposed to it,” she said, lifting her head, “but I don’t quite see what business he has coming into my day care center with a couple of young toughs and telling me what to do. I told him to get lost.”
Sue’s attention shifted to the snack table. “Don’t grab, Justin. There’s plenty for everyone.”
She turned back to Lucy. “And then he told me I’d better start looking for a new job because when the tribe makes money from
