* * *
By the time Lucy got back to Tinker’s Cove she discovered the media frenzy had begun. There were several vans from TV stations parked in front of the police station, and she spotted several reporters she recognized filming segments for the evening news.
At the office, she presented Ted with the copy of the lawsuit, but admitted she didn’t think she had a scoop. “I saw a bunch of reporters at the courthouse, just behind me, and they’re already filming reports out there on Main Street. For all I know, Samantha is handing these out to everybody.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” said Ted, and as it turned out, he was right.
That evening, when Lucy tuned in to a Boston channel, she noted with satisfaction that Michelle O’Rourke could only report that police investigations into Ed Franklin’s death were continuing, and that a court official had confirmed that Ed Franklin’s will was being contested but could provide no details as the paperwork was still being processed.
* * *
The rumor mill continued to grind during the week, however, and Wednesday morning’s Boston Herald had front page photos of Ed’s mansion in Tinker’s Cove and Eudora’s mansion in nearby Elna, superimposed with head shots of Mireille and Eudora under the headline CURSED HOUSES. The little weekly Pennysaver, however, was the only paper that would have complete details of the suit when it arrived in subscribers’ mailboxes the next day.
CHAPTER 12
Lucy wasn’t aware of her big scoop on Thursday morning as she went out for a run, conscious that she’d been neglecting her training program and time was running out before the Turkey Trot. It was a misty November morning, and Libby’s black coat was soon gray with dew drops as she ran along, just ahead of Lucy. Libby always had to be first, which Lucy had heard meant the Lab considered herself the leader of the pack. Lucy didn’t agree. She preferred to think that Libby was clearing a path for Lucy and guarding her, the actual leader of this very small pack.
When she got home, Bill was standing at the sink, rinsing the egg off his breakfast dishes. “Good run?” he asked, opening the dishwasher and loading the dishes inside.
“Great,” said Lucy, panting and gently shoving him aside so she could fill Libby’s bowl with fresh water. That chore completed she returned to the sink to get a drink for herself.
Bill closed the dishwasher door and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling the back of her neck, tickling her with his beard. She enjoyed the familiar embrace and leaned back against him while she drained the glass of water. Once refreshed, she turned around for a proper kiss.
“Napoleon famously wrote to Josephine, telling her not to bathe before he returned from war as he enjoyed her natural scent,” he said, stepping back, “but I gotta say a shower might not be a bad idea.”
Lucy pouted. “You’re not usually quite so fastidious and it seems to me that I put up with quite a bit of man sweat from time to time.”
“Well, that’s different. That’s a sign that I’ve been working hard to bring home the bacon for you and the kids.”
“Men are so weird. You just love all your various parts and bodily fluids. Must be the testosterone.”
“Right,” said Bill with a nod and a satisfied smile. “When you got it, flaunt it.”
“Well, are you going to be flaunting it at the Cali Kitchen?” inquired Lucy, glancing at the antique Regulator clock that held pride of place on the wall between the windows. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”
“That job’s on hold,” said Bill with a grimace. “The millwork truck was egged the other day when they were delivering windows and the tires on the electrician’s van were slashed while he was working inside.”
“Any idea who’s doing this?”
“Probably some of those demonstrators. They’re not holding protests anymore. They’ve turned to vandalism instead. I don’t know where it’s going to end.”
“I’m surprised that Rey is giving up,” said Lucy. “He seemed so determined to move forward on the restaurant.”
“He’s not giving up, at least that’s what he told me,” said Bill, sitting down at the round golden oak table and grabbing the sports section. “He’s just waiting for things to settle down a bit. He and Matt are taking a little vacation. They’re going back to the West Coast for Thanksgiving with their family.”
“I thought he was suspect number one for Ed Franklin’s murder.”
Bill shrugged. “He hasn’t been charged.”
“Interesting,” said Lucy, heading up the back stairway to the upstairs bathroom for a shower. Pausing at the bottom stair she turned, struck with a thought. “You know, since you’ll be at loose ends for a bit, you could paint the family room. And there’s that closet door in Sara’s room that’s off kilter, and—”
“Enough, enough,” he said, holding up a hand in protest. “I’ll check in with some of the guys, see if they need an extra hand.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t want all that testosterone to go to waste,” said Lucy before making a quick escape up the stairs.
* * *
Freshly showered and blown dry, Lucy dressed for the day, keeping in mind that she would be meeting her friends for breakfast. Sue usually had something critical to say about her appearance so she took a bit of extra care, applying lipstick and mascara and choosing her best jeans and a new sweater she’d bought on sale.
She felt quite pleased with herself as she started the car and headed into town. Her route took her past O’Brien’s Turkey Farm and she planned to make a quick stop there to pick up a turkey for the food pantry. She wasn’t going to be cooking a big dinner for the family this year, so she wanted to give the turkey she didn’t need
