A 4th mystery
Lucy Stone is in the doghouseβwith her next-door neighbor,
Mrs. Prudence Pratt. It seems that Kudo, the Stones'
misbehaving mutt, has developed a taste for Mrs. Pratt's
blue-ribbon winning chickens, as well an escape artist's
talent for sneaking out. With the Fourth of July coming
up, Lucy doesn't want to set off any more fireworks with
the crabby Prudence.
Another sign that the crazy days of summer are in full
swing arrives when a group of naturistsβa.k.a. nudistsβ
descends on Tinker's Cove, skinny-dipping at the pond that
borders Mrs. Pratt's property, giving her something else
to complain about. Worse still, the local lobstermen are
upset about poachersβand suspicion falls on Mrs. Pratt's
husband and son. Then the July Fourth fireworks are
canceled to protect a patch of extremely rare purple-
spotted lichen, and Mrs. Pratt is the victim of a hit and
run.
Tinker's Cove is full of suspects, but none with so
personal a motive as the Stones. Their feud with Mrs.
Pratt has put them at risk of losing their freedom this
Independence Dayβunless Lucy can start things off with a
bang by catching a red, white and blue killer...
Excerpt Chapter One
Lucy Stone wasnβt usually a clock watcher. Time didnβt
pass slowly for her; it galloped ahead of her. As a part-
time reporterβnot to mention feature writer, listings
editor and occasional photographerβfor the Pennysaver, the
weekly newspaper in Tinkerβs Cove, Maine, and the mother
of four, her life sometimes seemed to her an endless chase
after a spare minute. She was always late: late for
meetings she was supposed to cover, late for doctorβs
appointments, late for picking up the kids. But not today.
Today her eyes were fixed on the old electric kitchen
clock with the dangling cord that hung on the wall behind
the receptionistβs desk in the Penny- saver office. If
only she could stop the minute hand from lurching forward,
if only she could stop time, then she wouldnβt have to go
to the Board of Selectmenβs meeting at five oβclock.
βIs there something the matter with my hair?β asked
Phyllis, whose various job descriptions included
receptionist, telephone operator and advertising manager.
She gingerly patted her tightly-permed tangerine do. βYou
keep staring at it.β
βYour hairβs fine,β said Lucy. βIβm looking at the clock.β
Phyllis peered over her rhinestone-trimmed catβs-eye
glasses and narrowed her eyes. βHave you got the hots for
Howard White? Canβt wait to see him,β she paused and
smoothed her openwork white cardigan over her ample
bosom, βwield his gavel?β
Howard White was the extremely dignified chairman of the
Board of Selectmen, a retired executive who was well on in
years.
Lucy laughed. βHowardβs not my type,β she said.
Phyllis raised an eyebrow, actually a thinly penciled
orange line drawn where her eyebrows used to be. βWhy not?
Heβs not bad looking for an old guy, and heβs rich.β
βHe also has a wife,β said Lucy. βAnd I have a husband.β
βDetails.β Phyllis waved a plump, manicured hand, nails
polished in a bright coral hue.
βI donβt want to go to the meeting. I wish Ted would cover
the Board of Selectmen until this dog hearing is over.β
Ted was the owner, publisher and editor-in-chief of the
Pennysaver.
βDid I hear my name?β he inquired, sticking his head out
of the morgue where the back issues going all the way back
to the Courier & Advertisers printed in the 1800s were
stored.
βTed? Do me a favor and cover the selectmenβs meeting?
Please?β
βTrouble at home?β
βYou could say that,β said Lucy. βItβs Kudo. Heβs been
going after Prudence Prattβs chickens and I got a summons
yesterday for a dog hearing. I just feel so awkward trying
to cover the meeting with
this thing hanging over me.β
βIs the hearing tonight?β
βNext meeting.β
βSorry, Lucy, but I donβt see a conflict of interest
tonight. Iβll cover the next hearing though.β
βDo you have to?β asked Lucy, picturing her name in the
headline. That darned dog was such an embarrassment. She
felt like a criminal. βCouldnβt we just skip that meeting?
Pretend it never happened?β
βNo,β said Ted, flatly. βAnd if you donβt get a move on,
youβre going to be late for todayβs meeting. Itβs five,
you know.β
Lucy checked the clock. It was five minutes to five.
βThey never start on time,β she said, slowly gathering up
her things. βAnd town hallβs just across the street.
Thereβs no hurry, really.β
βYou better get a move on.β
Lucy hoisted the faded African basket she used as a purse
on her shoulder and drifted towards the door.
βIβm not going to miss anything. Bud Collins is never on
time and they always have to wait for him.β
Ted yanked the door open, making the little bell
jangle. βGo!β
βSee you tomorrow,β said Lucy, walking as slowly as a
convict beginning the last mile.
The door slammed behind her.
Selectmenβs meetings were held in the basement hearing
room of the town hall. The walls were concrete block
painted beige, the floor was covered in gray industrial
tile, and the seating was plastic chairs in assorted
colors of green, blue and orange. One end of the room was
slightly elevated and thatβs where the board members sat
behind a long bench, similar to the judgeβs bench in a
courtroom.
What with the flags in the corner and a table and chairs
for petitioners, the room was quite similar to the
district court, thought Lucy. It wasnβt a comforting idea
and she tried to put it out of her mind as she took her
usual seat, smiling at the scattering of regulars who
never missed a meeting.
Scratch Hallett, a gruff old fellow who had a plumbing and
heating business and was active in veteranβs affairs, was
a particular favorite. She also recognized Jonathan
Franke, the former environmental radical who was now the
respected executive director of the Association for the
Preservation of Tinkerβs Cove, and several members of that
organization. They were exchanging friendly nods when
Lucyβs attention was drawn to a newcomer. Tall and gaunt,
with her skimpy red hair pulled back into a straggly
ponytail, it was none other than her neighbor Prudence
Pratt, dressed in her customary summer outfit of baggy
blue jeans and a free Blue Seal T-shirt from the feed
store.
Lucyβs heart sank. She hoped Pru hadnβt gotten the date
wrong, and thought the dog hearing was today. Or maybe she
wanted to file an additional complaint. Kudo had gotten
loose again the other day, and had come trotting home with
a chicken feather stuck in his teeth. The memory made Lucy
wince. She was at her witβs end; sheβd tried everything
she could think of to restrain the dog but he was some
sort of escape artist. And whenever he got out, he went
after her neighborβs chickens.
Lucy tried to catch Pruβs eye, hoping to start some kind
of dialog. Maybe if she apologized for the dogβs behavior,
or offered to pay for the damages, they could work
something out and avoid the hearing. But Mrs. Pratt stared
straight ahead, pointedly ignoring her.
A little flurry of activity announced the arrival of the
board members, who filed into the room accompanied by
their secretary, Bev Schmidt, who kept the minutes. They
always came in the same order, with IGA owner Joe Marzetti
going first. He was a bundle of energy, tightly focused on
the task at hand.
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