Tippy Toe Murder (15 page)

To insure a smooth
rehearsal, please arrange a babysitter for your small children who are not in
the show.

Lucy’s first
impulse after leaving Irma was to drive straight home. Then she realized it was
past one o’clock and Sara had already gone to Jenn’s house, so she decided
instead to stop at McDonald’s for a quick lunch. Remembering her doctor’s
appointment the next day, she virtuously chose a salad.

She felt somewhat better after lunch and
decided to stop at the video store to price camcorders. While they cost less
than she expected, purchasing one would definitely strain the family budget.
Disappointed, she headed the Subaru toward Tinker’s Cove. Usually she enjoyed
the drive along the winding country road still dotted with old farmsteads, but
today the lowering clouds and humid weather made her feel even more depressed.
She needed to cheer herself up.

On impulse she stopped at several antique
stores along the way, looking for an old-fashioned wicker bassinet for the
baby. She didn’t find one, but she did find two little plaster plaques, probably
from the fifties, picturing ballerinas in various poses. Spruced up with fresh
pink ribbons, they would be just the thing to give the girls as mementos of the
big show.

She tucked the package out of sight in her
big purse, entered the now-familiar auditorium, and slipped into the seat next
to Karen, Jenn’s mom.

“Thanks,” she said. “I owe you a big one.”

“Don’t be silly, Lucy. Jenn and Sara are
such good friends it’s easier to have Sara over than to listen to Jenn whine
all afternoon.”

“I’m still grateful,” said Lucy.

“How did it go? Is Franny out?”

“No. They sent her for psychiatric tests at
the state hospital. Her lawyer really fought for her, but the judge wouldn’t
have any of it. The judge was a woman, too. I thought she’d be more
sympathetic.”

“You know what they say—never work for a
woman boss,” said Karen.

“Or have one for a mother,” said Lucy,
thinking of Irma.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Lucy, as the music
began. “Look, they’re starting.”

A horde of small ballerinas thundered on
stage, dressed in multicolored practice leotards, and began jumping about
exuberantly.

“That isn’t Sara’s leotard,” said Lucy,
spotting her youngest in an unfamiliar outfit.

“My mom sent a package of clothes for the
girls. She lives in North Conway and gets them real cheap at the outlets there.
That one didn’t fit Jenn, so we gave it to Sara. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding? How much do I owe you?”

“Forget it. Mom gets them on clearance for
practically nothing. She lives to shop.” Hearing Tatiana’s voice, she fell
silent.

“No, no, no!” cried Tatiana. “Stop the music.
Girls, you’ve forgotten everything I’ve taught you. Remember, you run on tippy
toes, and take tiny little steps. And when you jump, you float to the ground
like little feathers. Now, back to your places and we’ll start from the
beginning.”

The rehearsal proceeded, but it was very
rough. The students seemed to have lost their focus, and Tatiana frequently
interrupted to correct them. With so many stops and starts, the show lost
momentum. Lucy found herself yawning, except, of course, when Sara and Elizabeth
were on stage.

As she watched them perform she thought how
sweet their soft little bodies were, clad only in tights, leotards, and ballet
slippers. Their bodies belonged only to them, she thought, and she vowed to
make sure they knew it. She was determined they should never have to suffer the
way Franny did. It was up to her to make sure they valued themselves, that they
believed no one had the right to hurt them.

By the time the music crested to signal the
grand finale, Tatiana’s nerves were clearly frayed. She stood to one side of
the stage, tapping her foot, as the students trooped onstage to practice their
final curtsies.

“Stop, stop the music,” she called. “Everyone,
look where you’re standing. You’re not leaving any room for the babies. Now,
take a deep breath and step back.”

The dancers, busy chatting among
themselves, ignored her.

“Ladies,” she roared, stamping her foot.
Her black eyes flashed, indicating the famous temper was coming to a boil.

“Uh-oh,” warned Karen, nudging Lucy with
her elbow.

The auditorium was suddenly quiet.
Everyone, even the mothers, stopped talking.

“Take a deep breath and step back,”
repeated Tatiana, almost whispering. The dancers obeyed. “Start the music. We
will continue,” she said.

The mothers all let out a collective sigh
of relief. Tears and hysteria had been avoided.

Now there was room for the littlest
dancers, the preschoolers, to tiptoe on stage to complete the tableau. Finally
the music stopped, and the curtain closed, with all the dancers behind it.

Tatiana stepped forward to give her final
instructions to the mothers. She leaned forward, clutching her clipboard and
squinting against the spotlights.

“Dress rehearsal will begin at three-thirty
sharp on Thursday. All the instructions are on the pink sheet. I hope you’ll
all cooperate.
Please
don’t bring children who aren’t in the show to the dress rehearsal.

“Today’s rehearsal was not up to standard,
but I expected that. We’ll have all the kinks worked out by Friday.” She
crossed her fingers and held them up. “Now, open the curtain,” she instructed,
turning to face the dancers and consulting the clipboard.

“Mindy Carter, I hope you will have your
hair in a bun on Thursday. Caitlin and Catherine Brown, you have to get rid of
those bangs for the dress rehearsal. Use gel. Jennifer Volpe, pink tights means
theatrical pink, not fuchsia. No jewelry of any sort—that includes earrings,
Michelle Pinkus.”

Karen nodded as Tatiana went down the list.
“The girls call that the black list,” she told Lucy. “It’s, like, so embarrassing,”
she said, mimicking her oldest daughter. She rolled her eyes and went off to
retrieve Jenn.

Lucy followed her backstage to look for
Sara and Elizabeth. Shepherding them out of the auditorium, she paused to talk
with Tatiana.

“How did the phone calls go? Any news?”

Tatiana shook her head.

“I guess it wasn’t such a good idea after
all.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I picked up some
interesting gossip. Jennifer and Ludmila aren’t speaking to each other.
Something about a man.” Tatiana nodded knowingly. “And Louise is in jail!” Her
eyebrows shot up. “Janet says it’s something to do with a custody case. She’s
divorcing her husband. And Sally, she’s the one who writes for
Dance
magazine? She’s going to put something in her column about Caro and she told me
to get on the local TV news. I called WPZ this morning and they’re sending a
crew over. In fact,” she said, narrowing her eyes and peering past the stage
lights into the auditorium, “I think that’s them now.”

Lucy turned and recognized the attractive newscaster
who presented the local news every night. She was followed by a large man
burdened with numerous bags and cases.

“She looks much smaller than she does on
TV,” said Lucy.

“And younger,” said Tatiana. “Hi! I’m over
here!” she called, waving to catch their attention.

“Can we stay and watch?” asked Elizabeth.

“Sorry, it’s getting late.”

“Please?”

“We don’t have time. Besides, you can see
it all on TV tonight.”

When she pushed open the door to leave the
building a sudden gust of wind caught it, and she struggled to hang on to the
heavy door so it wouldn’t swing back and hit one of the children.

“Hurry to the car, girls,” she said. “It
looks like we’re in for a storm.” The oppressive stillness of the early
afternoon was gone and the sky was filled with ominous dark clouds. The leaves
on the trees were blown bottom side up, a sure indication that rain was on the
way.

“Now, where is Toby?” she asked, once the
girls were safely buckled in and she’d started the car. “I told him to be here
at four-thirty, and it’s past that.” The school parking lot was emptying out
rapidly, and there was no sign of her son.

Lucy drove around back, taking a swing past
the ball field, and then headed for the park. Huge raindrops began pattering
down on the windshield, and she thought he might have taken refuge in the
bandstand. As she circled the park the rain began falling in heavy sheets, and
even with the wipers going full speed she could just barely see it was
deserted. She finally spied him on the front porch of Country Cousins, along
with a handful of other boys. They were seated on the long deacon’s bench,
eating the penny candy the store was famous for.

Lucy pulled up, honking, and Toby hopped in
the car.

“This isn’t the high school auditorium,”
she snapped.

“No, Mom. It’s a store,” he said.

“Don’t be smart with me. I told you to meet
me at the school,” she fumed. “You’ve got to start being more responsible.”

“Sorry. I forgot. Do you think they’ll have
practice tonight?”

“Probably. Little League is like the postal
service. Neither rain nor snow
...”
She was interrupted by a clap of thunder.

“You’re not supposed to stand out in the
open during a thunderstorm,” said Toby.

“No, you’re not,” she agreed, as a jagged
fork of lightning flashed in the sky.

When Bill dashed into the house an hour
later, his beard and eyelashes glistening with raindrops, Lucy greeted him with
a big kiss and a smile.

“What are you so happy about?” he asked. “I
had to call off practice.”

“I thought you would,” she said, giving the
gravy a stir before raising the spoon to her lips to taste it.

“Hey, is that gravy?”

“It is. We’re having your favorite supper:
meat loaf and gravy, mashed potatoes, sugar snap peas from the garden, and
salad, of course, with our own lettuce and radishes. For dessert, there’s
chocolate pudding with whipped cream. Better get out your fork.”

“Wow, Lucy. How’d you do it?”

“Do not question the wonders of modem food
technology.

Just enjoy. Would you prefer ze Bud or ze
Rolling Rock for ze cocktail?”

“Don’t care.”

He watched, grinning, as she popped the tab
with a flourish and poured the beer into a pub mug for him.

Dinner didn’t take long to eat, even
allowing for the fact they were sitting in the dining room instead of the
kitchen and using forks instead of fingers. Lucy assigned Toby to do the dishes
and, conscious that his stock was not very high with his mother, he mounted
only a weak protest before heading into the kitchen.

Lucy and Bill and the girls went into the
family room to watch the news.

“We saw that lady,” exclaimed Sara when the
newscaster appeared seated alongside a male colleague.

“Turning to you, Janet,” he said, “I
understand you have a special plea from a local teacher.”

“That’s right, Jack.” The camera closed in
on Janet. “Tinker’s Cove dance teacher Tatiana O’Brien appealed today for help
in finding her missing friend and mentor, retired dance professor Caroline
Hutton. I spoke with Tatiana today in the auditorium of the Cove Regional High
School, where she was conducting a rehearsal for an upcoming performance.”

“That’s Tatiana! There she is,” squealed
Sara, her voice shrill with excitement.

They all watched intently as Tatiana held
up a framed photograph of Caro.

“I’m asking anyone who may have seen this
woman to contact the police immediately.”

“How long has she been missing?” asked
Janet, waving a microphone in front of Tatiana.

“There’s been no sign of her for almost
three weeks. I’m very concerned.”

“Why exactly are you so concerned?” Janet
adopted a serious expression; she was determined to show she could conduct an
in-depth interview. WPZ was fine for now, but she had big plans for the future.

“Because this is so out of character.
Caroline Hutton is a responsible, caring person. If she was planning a trip,
she would have told her friends and neighbors. She lived alone, she has no
family, so it’s up to us to find her and bring her home safely.”

Tatiana’s face faded from the screen,
replaced by Jack and Janet at the news desk.

“Janet, what do the police say?”

“Well, Jack, local police conducted an
extensive search but found no trace of the vanished woman. I spoke today with
Tinker’s Cove Police Chief Oswald Crowley.”

“He doesn’t look very happy to be on TV,”
observed Lucy when the chief’s scowling face appeared.

“Chief Crowley, have there been any new
developments in the Caroline Hutton case?”