Easter Bunny Murder by Leslie Meier Page B

said Madge, shaking her head. “You know I don’t drink.”
    Izzy rolled her eyes. “Tough assignment?”
    â€œYou said it,” said Lucy. “I think I’ll concentrate on the animals.” Raising her camera, she moved closer to the open area where the animals were parading and got down on her knees, snapping some close-ups. Then she went into the hallway, where more dogs were lined up along with a few caged cats and bunnies, and took some more pictures of the pets and their handlers. She also collected some usable quotes, noting with amusement that Sara and Zoe were avoiding her.
    When the parade was over and Lucy was leaving the building, she met Izzy, who was also headed to the parking lot.
    â€œYour mom is very sweet,” said Lucy.
    â€œYeah, it’s too bad. She’s sharp as ever, she does the New York Times crossword every Sunday, but her body is failing her. She’s got a multitude of problems: heart trouble, diabetes, failing kidneys; she’s a walking medical encyclopedia.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” said Lucy. “She’s got a wonderful attitude.”
    â€œShe does,” said Izzy. “She really does. And I’ll tell you, when I get depressed and worried about her, I just think about VV. My mom, on Medicaid, is a hundred times better off than VV, despite her millions. She gets good food, companionship, everything she needs. VV may be a millionaire, but, believe me, Mom is living better than she is.”
    â€œYou’re right,” said Lucy, eager to follow up on this opening. “You’re absolutely right. I was shocked by what I saw at Pine Point, and I can’t help worrying about VV. Have you seen her lately?”
    Izzy paused, keys in hand, resting her hips against a silver VW bug. “Are you really a caterer, or were you doing a bit of investigative reporting at the funeral?”
    For a moment, Lucy didn’t know what to say. “Investigative reporter!” she sputtered. “Don’t I wish.” She smiled ruefully. “I’m just a jill-of-all-trades, I’m part time at the paper, I try to fill in with whatever comes along. You know how it is. I’m scrambling like everybody else, trying to make ends meet in this economy.”
    Izzy opened her car door. “I sure do,” she said, settling herself behind the wheel. “Do me a favor, run a picture of my mom with that story?”
    â€œI’ll try,” promised Lucy, giving Izzy a little wave as she drove off.
    Â 
    Easter Sunday dawned cold and crisp, but at least the sun was out. Lucy was busy in the dining room, setting the table with her best china and silver. A pot of blooming hyacinths was in the center of the table and a growing collection of adorable ceramic bunnies was arranged on the damask cloth.
    Lucy had invited Toby and Molly; Patrick’s place was set with a vintage Peter Rabbit plate Lucy had found at a thrift shop. She’d also invited Molly’s parents, Jolene and Jim Moskowitz, making sure to put Jim as far from Bill as she could. Bill didn’t like Jim, who owned a prosperous insurance agency, but Lucy was determined to maintain a positive relationship with the in-laws—not for their sakes, but to provide a supportive family for Molly and Toby and most especially, Patrick.
    Lucy gave the table a final once-over, adjusting a napkin here and a fork there, and when she was satisfied everything was perfect, she went into the kitchen to baste the ham. She was bent over the oven when Bill came down the stairs.
    â€œThat smells great,” he said.
    Lucy shut the oven door. “I’ve got deviled eggs and cru-dités for starters; there’s ham, scalloped potatoes, caesar salad, and baby peas for dinner and I made a fancy Easter basket cake for dessert. Do you think that’s enough?”
    â€œSounds great,” said Bill. “Is there beer?”
    Lucy sighed. “Beer and rosé, to