Christmas Cookie Murder. Leslie Meier

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СКАЧАТЬ kiss and smiled at the tickly feeling from his beard. “I’m kind of frantic, actually,” she explained, pushing the meat around with a spatula. “I had to work all day, and the cookie exchange is tonight.”

      “I thought Sue did that,” said Bill, hanging up his coat on the hook by the door.

      “I got drafted this year.”

      “Well, it’s a worthy cause—Christmas cookies!” Bill was settling down at the half-set kitchen table, with a cold beer in his hand.

      “Since you feel that way, do you mind finishing up this sauce?” Lucy glanced nervously at the clock on the wall above the stove. “I’d like to set out the party refreshments in the dining room.”

      “Sure thing.” Bill took the spatula from her, and Lucy scurried into the pantry, pulling out the ladder and climbing up to take the cake box off the top shelf. She carried it into the dining room and lifted off the top, expecting to see the festively decorated Dee-Liteful Wine Cake she had stored there.

      Instead, she saw that only three-quarters of the cake was left.

      Clenching her fists, she marched up the kitchen stairs and threw open the door to Toby’s room.

      “How could you?” she demanded, pulling off his earphones.

      Startled, Toby looked up.

      “How could I what?”

      “You know what! Eat my cake!”

      “What cake?” muttered Toby, grabbing for the earphones.

      “The one with sprigs of holly and red candied cherries that was on the top shelf of the pantry.” Lucy’s arms were akimbo, and she was drumming her fingers against her hips.

      “Oh, that one,” said Toby, biting his lower lip. Then his face brightened as he turned on the charm. “It’s pretty good, Mom.”

      “Flattery isn’t going to get you out of this, buddy,” said Lucy, implacably. “What were you thinking? I made a cake and decorated it for you to enjoy all by yourself?”

      He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have done it. But I was so hungry. It’s all this pressure with the college applications and everything.”

      “Give me a break,” muttered Lucy, disgusted. “I’m gonna get you for this—I don’t know exactly how, but you’ll pay.”

      She thumped down the front stairs to the dining room and got a knife out of a drawer, cutting the cake into neat slices and arranging them on a plate. She opened a package of holiday napkins, unfolding one and laying it over the sliced cake and arranging the rest on the sideboard, along with her sterling-silver dessert forks and teaspoons, her best china plates and cups and saucers.

      Stepping back, she glanced around the room. It wasn’t as lavishly decorated as Sue’s house, but it was festive. A bowl of holly sat on the sideboard, little electric candles stood on the windowsills, and there was a crystal bowl filled with silver and gold Christmas balls in the middle of the now gleaming mahogany table. She took a deep breath and went from window to window flicking on the candles. She dimmed the overhead chandelier and went into the kitchen to see how dinner was coming.

      Bill was just setting a big pot filled with noodles and sauce on the table when Lucy pushed open the kitchen door and slipped into her seat next to Zoe. With impeccable timing, Toby thundered down the back stairs and thumped into his chair.

      “Hey, did you hear?” he began, in an effort to deflect her attention from himself. “Richie got into Harvard.”

      “He did?” Lucy stopped, serving spoon in midair. “How does he know already?”

      “Early decision,” said Toby, passing the salad bowl.

      “Bob and Rachel must be so pleased,” said Lucy, wishing that she felt a little more pleased with her own son.

      “I bet it costs a pretty penny to go there,” said Bill, taking a piece of Italian bread and passing the basket to Lucy.

      “I think they’re all about the same,” said Lucy, busy buttering her bread. “Thirty thousand.”

      “I just don’t get it,” complained Bill. “When I went to college it was fifteen hundred a year, and that was everything. Tuition, room and board, the whole shebang. I had a five-hundred-dollar scholarship, and Mom got a part-time job to pay the rest.”

      “Well, I’ve got a part-time job,” said Lucy. “But I sure don’t make thirty thousand dollars. Most people around here don’t even make that with a full-time job.”

      “What’s the matter with the state college? That’s what I want to know,” demanded Bill, turning toward Toby.

      “I’m applying there, too,” said Toby, shoveling a big forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. “But my guidance counselor says I should try some of these other schools, too.”

      “I think we’ll qualify for financial aid,” said Lucy, hoping to ease the tension that was building up between father and son.

      “Well, frankly, before I break my butt trying to pay for a fancy education for the young prince here, I’d like to see a little more initiative, if you know what I mean.” Bill gestured angrily with his fork. “His room’s a mess, if you let him he’ll sleep until two or three in the afternoon, and when he borrows my truck he always brings it back with an empty gas tank.”

      Toby didn’t respond, but kept his head down, steadily scooping up his spaghetti.

      “You know what I did today?” said Lucy brightly, changing the subject. “I interviewed Santa Claus!”

      “The real Santa Claus?” Zoe was skeptical.

      “I think so. It was the Santa at the Ropewalk. It didn’t seem polite to ask for his credentials.”

      “I don’t suppose you need a driver’s license for a sleigh and reindeer, anyway,” observed Elizabeth, who was the proud possessor of a learner’s permit.

      “What did he say?” asked Zoe.

      “Well, he said it’s very warm here, compared with the North Pole.”

      Bill chuckled. “The North Pole is probably the only place colder than here.”

      “That’s exactly why I don’t want to go to the state college! I want to get out of this freezing cold place where there’s nothing to do,” exploded Toby, who had been on a slow simmer. He threw down his napkin and marched out of the room.

      “I wish you wouldn’t be quite so hard on him,” said Lucy.

      “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t spoil him, now would I?” said Bill.

      “So, Sara, how was your day?” asked Lucy, determined to get through the meal with some semblance of civility.

      “We had an assembly. A man came who used to be a drug addict. He told us how he ate food from garbage cans and…”

      “Drugs СКАЧАТЬ