Christmas Carol Murder (A Lucy Stone Mystery) Read Online Free

Marlowe?” Lucy asked. “I thought there wasn’t much left.”
    “It was definitely Marlowe. His body was in the kitchen. Well, where the kitchen used to be. And Dr. Frost, the dentist who lives next door, recognized some bridgework he did for Marlowe.”
    “How can they tell it was a mail bomb?” Lucy asked. “Didn’t the fire destroy the evidence?”
    “I don’t know the details; all I know is what the state fire marshal tells me and he says it was a mail bomb. No doubt about it.”
    “Was it mailed locally?”
    “Uh, that he didn’t know,” Kirwan admitted. “We’ve got the post office working on it, but the assumption is that it was a local job. Think about it: Marlowe wasn’t very popular around town. A lot of people have lost, or are about to lose, their homes to Downeast Mortgage. And Marlowe didn’t do himself any favors with that FinCom vote cutting town employees’ hours. No, we’ve got suspects coming out of the woodwork, lots of them.” He chuckled. “Which reminds me, Lucy. Who’s holding your mortgage?”
    Lucy found herself grinning. “Nobody. We paid ours off last year.”
    “Lucky devils,” Jim said. “I wish I hadn’t refinanced back in two thousand seven when all the so-called financial experts were saying it was the thing to do. Now I’m underwater, like most everybody else in town. I owe more than the house is worth.”
    “Just hang on,” Lucy advised. “Prices will go back up; they always do.”
    “I dunno,” Kirwan said. “This is one time I kinda feel for the guy who did it. Truth is, I would’ve liked to do it myself.”
    “I’m assuming that’s off the record,” Lucy said.
    “Uh, yeah,” Kirwan said.
     
    Sitting in Jake’s Donut Shop on Thursday morning—this longtime Tinker’s Cove institution was named after its owner, Jake Prose—Lucy was staring at the front page photo of Marlowe’s burning mansion and mourning the quote she couldn’t use. What a bombshell that would have been! Police chief goes rogue! If only she hadn’t promised to keep his revealing statement off the record.
    “Hey, Lucy.” It was her best friend, Sue Finch, and Lucy hopped up to greet her with a hug.
    “Some fire,” Sue said, glancing at the paper as she took her seat and shrugged out of her shearling coat.
    Lucy tapped the head of a small figure standing in the crowd. “That’s Sara. She was supposed to be in class but she was out demonstrating with the college’s Social Action Committee.”
    “So Sara’s suddenly developed a social conscience?” Sue asked, removing her beret and smoothing her glossy black pageboy with her beautifully manicured hands. “I’m only asking because that leader, Seth, is pretty good looking.” She was pointing to the photo of Seth, his fist raised in defiance.
    “You think she’s interested in him, not the issues?” Lucy asked. She hadn’t considered this possibility.
    Sue rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do. And by the way, what do I have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?”
    Norine, the waitress, was on it. “Sorry, Sue. I got distracted,” she said, setting a couple of mugs on the table and filling them. “Ever since the fire I just can’t seem to concentrate.” She shuddered. “I didn’t like Marlowe—nobody did—but that’s a terrible way to go.”
    “You said it,” Pam Stillings chimed in, arriving with Rachel Goodman. Pam was married to Lucy’s boss, Ted, and she and Rachel completed the group of four friends who met for breakfast every Thursday at Jake’s.
    “That poor man,” Rachel added, lowering her big doe eyes and shaking her head. Rachel was a soft touch, who provided home care for the town’s oldest resident, Miss Julia Ward Howe Tilley.
    “He wasn’t poor,” Lucy said, knowing perfectly well that Rachel hadn’t been referring to Marlowe’s finances. “He was making a bundle off those mortgages and almost everybody in town has one. Chief Kirwan told me he’s got more suspects than he can