Christmas Cookie Murder #6 by Leslie Meier

rid of them as soon as I heard about Tim, but Franny must have saved one. I know her intentions were good, but Andrea didn’t see it that way.”
    â€œThat woman”—Sue tipped her head toward Will—“must be a fanatic. Why would you bring something like that to a party? I mean, you could very well have served wine. That would’ve put the kibosh on things.”
    â€œIt really threw me when she showed up with the darn things. I didn’t know what to do.”
    â€œI don’t know what else you could have done, under the circumstances.” Sue pushed a little red car along in the sand, following the road Harry was making with his toy bulldozer. “And to tell the truth, I feel badly for Andrea, but Tim’s gotta learn, too. This isn’t the first time he’s been driving drunk; it’s just the first time he got caught.”
    Lucy nodded thoughtfully, watching Will. He looked as if he could use another puff on the inhaler, but she knew it was too soon. Elizabeth had asthma, and Lucy had often helped her manage an attack.
    â€œLee didn’t help matters much, either,” said Lucy. “You were right about her. All she can talk about is how badly Steve’s behaving. And what was that about Tucker stealing her cookie recipe?” Lucy looked puzzled. “I didn’t understand that at all.”
    Sue snorted. “She isn’t worried about her cookie recipe, believe me. She’s afraid Tucker is stealing her husband.” Sue paused, and put a comforting arm around Will’s shoulder. The little boy’s eyes looked huge under his bangs. “Steve’s been dating Tucker. She told me all about it last night.”
    â€œOhhh,” said Lucy, “now it makes sense.” She reached across the table and gently pinched Will’s chin, but he didn’t look at her. He was entirely focused on his struggle to breathe and was beginning to panic. “I don’t like the look of this,” said Lucy. “I think he needs a nebulizer.”
    Sue nodded. “Can you stay here, until I get back?”
    â€œNo problem.” Lucy noticed Will’s eyes were beginning to roll up into his head. “You better hurry. Get your coat.” She picked up Will and carried him over to the cubby area, where the coats were kept, and began zipping him into his jacket.
    Sue grabbed her coat and yanked open a desk drawer, pulling out Will’s emergency file. She took out a card and tucked the manila folder under her arm.
    â€œNotify his folks, okay?” she told Lucy, handing her the card. “They can meet me at the emergency room.” Then she scooped up the little boy and hurried off.
    Lucy took a quick head count on the remaining kids. Harry, she saw, had gone to join the little boy who was playing with blocks. Two of the girls had moved into the toy kitchen, and Hillary Cummings was piling stuffed toys into a doll carriage. Everything seemed under control, so she sat down at Sue’s desk to phone Steffie.
    Looking at the number printed on the card, Lucy hesitated and let her fingers play with the numbered buttons on the keypad. After last night, she didn’t really want to talk to Steffie. Her conscience took over, however, before she could decide if her reluctance was due to anger with Steffie or embarrassment over the leak, and she punched in the number.
    Listening to the phone ring, she thought about the frail little boy Steffie seemed to have such high hopes for. Finally, the phone was answered; it turned out to be a bank in the next town, Gilead, and she was connected to Steffie.
    â€œOf course. You couldn’t call my husband,” sighed Steffie, when Lucy explained the situation.
    â€œI didn’t think of that,” said Lucy, remembering the police station was just around the corner. She flipped over the card. “Actually, yours is the only number we have.”
    â€œI can’t believe this,”