Free Christmas Cookie Murder #6 by Leslie Meier Page B

boy. What are Toby’s plans?”
    â€œHe says he’s interested in several colleges, but he’s being awfully lazy about the applications.”
    â€œWho can blame him?” Marge rubbed her forehead and Lucy suspected she was getting tired. “I tried to help Eddie, but I couldn’t manage it.”
    This was news to Lucy. She had thought Eddie would probably get a job after high school or join the armed forces. “Where’s Eddie applying?”
    â€œCulinary school. He wants to be a chef.”
    Lucy was impressed. “That’s a good idea. He’s worked at the Greengage Cafe for a couple of summers, hasn’t he?”
    â€œHe loves it. But he says he has to go to culinary school to be a chef.”
    â€œMaybe I could help,” offered Lucy. “The boys could work on their applications together. It might be just what Toby needs to get his done, too. Eddie could come over one day next week.”
    â€œThat’d be great, Lucy. You could help him with the essay part since you write for the paper and all.”
    â€œI’ll do what I can.” Lucy checked her watch. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got a list of errands a mile long.”
    â€œThanks for coming, and thanks for the cookies.” Marge nodded at the tin on the coffee table.
    â€œIs there anything I can get you before I go?”
    â€œNo, Lucy, I’m fine.”
    â€œYou take care now,” said Lucy, giving Marge a quick hug before she left. Then, heading downtown, she thought about their conversation.
    She sympathized with Marge, but she also knew that under the leadership of Chief Crowley, whose health had been declining for years, the Tinker’s Cove Police Department had settled into a long slumber. Maybe Tom Scott would bring some much-needed vigor to the department.
    Then, rounding a corner, she drew up short, noticing Steve Cummings’s dental office. Acting on impulse, she pulled into the drive and parked in the small parking area behind the building. She hadn’t gotten much information from Marge. Why not question her prime suspect directly?
    As she made her way up the neat brick path to the door she tried to think of an excuse for seeing the dentist. Have her teeth cleaned? Dr. Cummings probably had a dental hygienist who handled that chore, and, besides, she would probably have to make an appointment. A cleaning was hardly an emergency.
    Could she claim she had a toothache? A really bad one that needed emergency attention? The idea made her uneasy. If Steve Cummings had murdered Tucker, she hardly wanted to put herself at his mercy in a dental chair.
    No, she would have to try a different approach. By the time she pulled open the door she had a plan.
    â€œDo you have an appointment?” inquired the woman behind the desk. She was a rather heavy, middle-aged woman with brass-colored hair cropped in one of those upswept styles that was supposed to make a woman of a certain age look younger. It made this woman look like a Marine drill sergeant, thought Lucy.
    â€œNo, I don’t. I’m from The Pennysaver , you know, the newspaper?”
    The woman’s face hardened. “We don’t advertise,” she said. “It’s a matter of professional ethics.”
    â€œOh, no. I’m not selling advertising. I write for the paper. I’m Lucy Stone.”
    The drill sergeant was not impressed with this information.
    Lucy smiled, and plunged ahead, improvising as she went.
    â€œActually, I’m working on a feature story. We’re asking prominent citizens, you know, people our readers will recognize, what they want for Christmas. It’s kind of a man-in-the-street thing, with kind of a new twist? It’ll only take a minute of the doctor’s time.”
    â€œI don’t think so.” The drill sergeant shook her head. “In fact, Dr. Cummings has cut back his schedule today. He’s only seeing a few patients whose