Tippy Toe Murder Read Free Page B

Caro?”
    “I don’t know. It’s scary, isn’t it? I
think about her all the time. She was so nice, you know?”
    “Do you think she was murdered or
something?” “According to Barney Culpepper there’s no sign of any foul play.
The police think she either went away of her own accord, on a trip or
something, or she killed herself. He said they’re not seriously considering
suicide, since no body’s been found.” “Sounds to me like they’re just making
excuses. Do you think they’re really looking for her?”
    “I think they’ve done as much as they can.
A case like this really needs a full-time investigator.”
    “Someone like you?” asked Sue with a
mischievous smile.
    “I don’t think so,” said Lucy slowly. “Bill’s
been difficult enough lately. He’d have a fit if I started playing detective
again.”
    “Are you two having problems?” Sue’s tone
was sympathetic. Lucy shrugged. “You know how it is. We didn’t plan this
pregnancy—it just happened. I know he’s worried about money. I mean, he’s a
carpenter and this will be our fourth kid. It’s more than that, though. There’s
no time anymore just for us. Little League practices, ballet lessons, PTA
meetings. There’s always something. I can’t blame him for losing his temper now
and then.”
    “Does he hit you?” asked Sue in a low
voice.
    “No!” exclaimed Lucy. “He wouldn’t do that.”
    “I’m warning you, Lucy, it’s a continuum.”
Sue drew an imaginary line with her fingers. “At one end there’s verbal abuse,
then there’s physical abuse, and finally there’s ultimate abuse. That’s when he
kills you.”
    “I think I’m safe enough,” said Lucy. “That
crisis center seems to be making you awfully cynical.”
    “It’s been an eye opener,” said Sue,
shaking her head sadly. “There’s so much abuse. It’s crazy. It’s out of
control. One of the advocates told me more women were killed by husbands and
lovers during the Vietnam years than soldiers were killed overseas, and it’s
getting worse.”
    “I can’t believe it,” said Lucy. “Except
for Franny, I don’t know any battered wives.”
    “Oh yes you do.”
    Lucy thought for a minute and then leaned
forward. “Who?” “I can’t tell you. But believe me, there’s plenty of women
afraid for their lives and for their children, right here in Tinker’s Cove.”
    Sue paused and slowly shook her head.
    “The kids, that’s the part that really gets
me. Have you seen that story in this morning’s paper? Some poor woman gone to
jail rather than hand her kid over to an abusive father. The judge, male, of
course, won’t let her out until she tells where the kid is. It makes me so mad.
They call it a war against women, but if we fight back they slap us in jail. It’s
not fair.” Surprised at her own vehemence, Sue cracked an apologetic smile. “I
tend to get carried away on this subject. Oh, well, I gotta go, Lucy. I didn’t
realize it was so late. The plumber’s coming at eleven and I don’t want to miss
him.”
    “That’s okay,” said Lucy. “I’ll get the
check.”
    She watched her friend leave the coffee
shop, and then made her way slowly to the cash register. She knew she had no
business feeling light-headed, she’d just had a glass of juice, but for a
moment the floor tilted crazily beneath her. Home ought to be a safe place, a
haven.
    “Is everything okay?” asked the cashier, a
motherly woman with her gray curls confined in a hair net.
    “I must have stood up too fast,” said Lucy,
reaching in her purse. Where would she go, she wondered as she waited for her
change, if she couldn’t go home?

3
     
    There is no charge for the
performance—donations welcome.
     
    The store was quiet after Sue and Lucy
left. Franny perched on her stool behind the counter and leafed through a pile
of old invoices. She could hear an occasional humph from Mr. Slack
in his office, and she heard Ben knocking around in the back room, where he