“I know. I think they’re related. I think he came to town because of Mimi.”
“So you think whoever killed Mimi also killed him? That it wasn’t an accident?”
“Well, I’ve been talking to people who saw him around town and nobody mentioned he was ever drunk, and there was no sign of liquor in his little campsite in the woods.”
“You can show me where it is?”
“Sure. So how about getting his name and address?”
Barney picked up the phone and within minutes he was copying the information in his big block letters: Thomas Preston O’Toole with an address in Jamaica Plain. “The license expired in 1985,” he said, sliding the paper across the table to her.
“Mimi named her sons after him,” said Lucy. “Who do you think he was? A brother?”
“The age is right. He was about forty. She was a little older.”
“I wonder what happened, what split them apart?”
“I can run a records check,” offered Barney, just as his name was called on the station intercom. “I gotta go,” he said, “I’ll call you later.”
Lucy felt exhilarated, and slightly frantic, as she hurried back to the Pennysaver office. It was exciting when a story began to gel and she found the pressure both exhilarating and scary. But it was already Tuesday. Could she pull it all together by noon tomorrow?
Google was no help at all. There were no matches for Thomas Preston O’Toole, no matches for Preston O’Toole and 4,830 matches for Thomas Preston, most of which seemed to be random notations that included the name Thomas.
“Lucy, what exactly are you doing?” demanded Ted, who had been watching her scroll through the listings for some time.
“I Googled the homeless guy, but I’m not finding anything.”
“Uh, that’s a surprise,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He was homeless, that means he wasn’t connected to society, right?”
“Well, everybody’s in Google, right? Even me. And he might have been somebody important before he became homeless. Or he might have been named after a famous relative.”
“I think you’d be better off with a criminal records check,” said Ted.
“Barney ran one for me. It came up empty.”
“Call the parish priest,” advised Phyllis, oracle-like from her spot behind the reception counter.
“What?” Lucy was puzzled.
“O’Toole is an Irish name and Jamaica Plain is in Boston, that means he’s most likely Boston Irish. They’re usually faithful churchgoers. I bet the parish church has some information, baptism, first communion, stuff like that.”
Lucy remembered Mimi’s funeral service at the Catholic church, and the fact that O’Toole had attended it. “That’s a good idea,” she said, casting a questioning look in Ted’s direction. “Just one phone call?”
“Just one,” said Ted. “Then you can follow up for next week’s edition. Right now, I need you to get the movie listings.”
“I’m on it, Chief,” said Lucy, doing a quick Google search for Catholic churches in Jamaica Plain and turning up St. Thomas Church. A call to the office, however, only yielded the information that the secretary was new to the area and hardly knew anyone and the priest was away on his annual retreat. Unfortunately, only Father Montoya could authorize the release of official church information.
“There is someone you might try,” she said. “Father Keenan retired a few years ago and he was here for years.”
“Where is he now?” asked Lucy.
“His health isn’t good. He’s at a retirement home for clergy in New Hampshire.”
Lucy perked up when she heard the address; it was only about a couple of hours drive away. She could go later in the week, after deadline. “Thanks so much,” she said.
“Movies,” muttered Ted. “We need the movie listings.”
Lucy was a little nervous going to breakfast with the girls on Thursday morning. She hadn’t seen Sue since the Labor Day cookout and was worried she was angry with her. But when she approached the usual table in Jake’s Donut Shop, Sue’s smile was as friendly as ever.
“Hi, guys,” said Lucy, taking her seat. “You won’t believe what happened to me,” she began, eager to tell them all about her adventures with Libby.
“You won’t believe what Sue’s been up to,” interrupted Pam, her eyes wide with astonishment.
“Really?” Lucy felt the wind go out of her sails. “Tell me all about it.”
“Well,” began Sue. “To make a long story short, I’m going into business with Chris Cashman.”
Lucy’s chin dropped. “What?”
“I knew something like this would happen,” said Rachel, nodding sagely. “It was inevitable.”
“I have to admit I didn’t see this coming,” said Lucy. “I thought you were archenemies.”
“Oh, I don’t know why I got so upset about that bake sale,” said Sue, with a dismissive wave of the hand. “It was just silly. And when Chris called me after the Board of Appeals meeting and said she got approval to operate her investment business from her house…”
“You’re going to go into financial planning?” Lucy couldn’t believe it. Sue’s favorite maxim was “You’ve got to spend money to save it.”
“No, silly, I don’t know anything about finances. I’m opening a day care business and Chris is going to be a silent partner.”
Lucy knew that Sue had run the town’s first daycare center for several years, filling a vital need for young working families who couldn’t otherwise afford child care. She had since retired but the center was still flourishing.
“This is going to be different,” continued Sue. “This is going to be a bit more upscale, designed for professional parents who want the very best for their kids. We’ll have foreign languages, educational games, a fitness program, music appreciation—I’m pretty excited about it. We even have a name: Little Prodigies Preschool Center.”
“That sounds great but do you think there are enough professional parents who can afford it?” asked Rachel. “Something like that’s going to be pricey.”
“Chris has done a lot of research,”
“Of course,” said Lucy and Pam, simultaneously.
“…and she says there are plenty of couples looking for top quality care for their kids. The population has really changed in the past few years. The old folks are dying off, there’s been an influx of professionals who work at home, or commute to businesses that have moved out of the urban centers. There’s that new industrial park in Gilead; it’s full of computer and biotech outfits.”
“But how did Chris know that you have a background in early childhood education?” asked Lucy.
“She was asking around for daycare options and somebody told her to call me for some referrals and one thing led to another.” She looked at her watch. “Well, sorry, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Chris. We’re going to check out some possible properties.” She stood up and picked up her purse. “Wish me luck!”
She left in a chorus of good wishes, leaving behind her amazed and befuddled friends.
“I’m floored,” said Lucy. “I thought they hated each other.”
“The last I heard, and I heard quite a lot, she was going on and on about what a bossy upstart Chris was,” said Pam.