A Farewell to Legs (32 page)

Confronted by her mother after the Board of
Education meeting, Susan Mystroft was forced to admit her crimes
publicly and face the music. Among the punishments discussed was a
one-week suspension from school, but Anne Mignano quite logically
noted that time off from school was what Susan had been aiming for
to begin with, so that would be considered a reward, rather than a
punishment.

It was decided, at Anne’s suggestion, that Susan be
made to show up for school a half-hour earlier than everyone else,
and stay for a half-hour detention every day for two weeks. This
Solomon-like decision was praised far and wide, by everyone except
Susan, who wasn’t the least bit pleased, and Faith Feldstein, who
still didn’t believe a girl had thrown a stink bomb, so a
conspiracy surely was afoot. She resigned from the Board of
Education in protest, but virtually no one noticed. Oliver Stone
was reportedly interested in the movie rights briefly, but moved on
to something else.

Punishment for Stephanie and Legs was not so easy to
enforce. There were rumors they were domiciled in the Cayman
Islands, but an investigation by the FBI turned up nothing. Later,
whispers surfaced that Stephanie had gotten fed up with Legs and
thrown him off a yacht in shark-infested waters, but those
could-n’t be substantiated, either.

Louise Gibson died three months later after a blood
vessel burst in her nose. Medical science couldn’t explain it, but
there were numerous explanations for the two million dollars found
in seventeen different certificates of deposit in Louise’s name
after she died. They were, eventually, confiscated by the Federal
Government, which will probably use them to pay for bribes that
will cover up the next scandal. The world’s not perfect, you
know.

Jason Gibson continued at the Pringley School, his
tuition paid by a blind trust, until graduation. He was accepted at
Harvard, but chose to go to Rutgers instead. There was definite
potential in that boy.

Louis Junior graduated from Georgetown and took a
job working for People for American Values. Strangely, that
organization folded its tents six months later, citing diminished
donations, and as of this writing, Louis Gibson Jr. is looking for
work in government or finance.

Life at my house slowly settled back into a routine.
Ethan continued to walk Warren first thing every morning, even when
the weather turned colder. Leah never failed to take the dog out
after school, and Abby always gave him a long walk after dinner.
Our routine was unalterably adjusted to accommodate Warren.

To cut down on the number of odiferous incidents
that occurred during the night, I fell into the habit of giving him
a walk just before bed. But Warren continued to favor my carpet
over the curb, and the smell in my office became unbearable.

So, on an unusually warm November afternoon, I was
moving all my office furniture so I could pull up the rug. Preston
Burke had offered to do the work, but he was busy repairing the
water damage in the kitchen ceiling, and I didn’t want him to be
distracted. So I took an afternoon off to get down to hardwood
floors in my office.

I was pulling up the rug in the corner just to the
left of my desk, where the bookcase generally stands, and thinking
that in retrospect, it all began with the lizard, when the phone
rang. The caller ID provided no return number, but it did note that
the call was coming from California, so I gave up the opportunity
to pull up tackless installation strips for a moment or two, and
answered it.

“Hello?”

“I’m trying to reach Aaron Tucker.”

“You’ve succeeded.”

“Aaron. This is Glenn Waterman of Beverly Hills
Films. We read your script,
The Minivan Rolls for Thee
, and
we really liked it.”

“Who is this, really?”

Waterman laughed. “That’s the kind of humor we found
so wonderful in the script,” he said. “We’d like you to come out
here for a few days so we can discuss it, with an eye toward an
option.”

“You’re paying for my airfare, car, and hotel?” I
asked.

“Yes,” chuckled Waterman. “We’re very excited about
the script. We’ll happily pick up the tab.”

My mind reeled. The kids get home at two-thirty
every day. Ethan is starting wrestling practice on Monday night,
and Leah has basketball on Thursdays, gymnastics on Tuesdays, and
Junior Girl Scouts every other Sunday. Who the hell would cover for
me during my absence? There was no way I could just up and leave.
It wouldn’t do to pursue my long-shot career goal and mess up my
family life in the pursuit.

I told Waterman I’d get back to him (he probably
thought I was holding out for money) and walked into the kitchen,
where Abby was trying to stay out of Preston’s way while making
chicken fajitas.

“Who was that?” asked Abby. Burke came down off the
ladder and wandered out the front door, probably to get something
out of his truck.

“A production company in L.A. They want me to go out
there and discuss an option.”

Abby, her face at once astounded and elated, turned
to look at me, and gave me one of the hugs that keep one coming
back for more. “Aaron!”

“Wait a second,” I said. “There’s no guarantee
anything will happen, even if I go. I’d have to be out there for
four days, at least. There’d be nobody here when the kids got home.
You’d have to get them out in the morning, which means you’d get
into your office late. There are after-school activities and
schedules, and you know how Ethan is about changes in his
routine. . .”

My wife, paragon that she is, laughed at me. She put
a finger to my lips and gave me a look that would cause Will
and
Grace to reconsider their respective lifestyles.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll help you pack.”

We went upstairs.

Three weeks later, she helped me pack.

Before anyone in my home town starts tuning up, yes,
there
was
a stink bomb incident in one of our schools a
couple of years ago, and yes, it did give me the idea. But as I
recall it, nobody was especially upset, there was never any public
uproar about it, the principal’s job was certainly never on the
line, and to be completely and totally honest, I don’t know if the
culprit(s) was/were ever caught, and if so, I definitely never
found out who they might have been. So don’t read more into it than
that.

To those who went to high school with me: no, that’s
not you in the book. You may
think
it’s you, but it’s not.
Herein are composite characters from that time of my life, other
times in my life and, for that matter, now, but no one person is
based on one other person. Most of them—honestly—are entirely made
up. Sorry to disappoint, but that’s why this book is in the
“fiction” section of your bookstore.

And for the last time committed to print: no, I’m
not Aaron Tucker. For one thing, he’s about an inch and a half
shorter than I am, and (I hope) better looking. And my wife is not
Abby, my son is not Ethan, and my daughter is not Leah. Yes, I
sometimes base characters on people I know, but this ain’t no
documentary—the characters are designed to suit the story.

Now to the important stuff: thanks to those who have
written and emailed me ([email protected]) about
For Whom the
Minivan Rolls
. I really do appreciate your kind words, even
that one guy who suggested that when the movie is made, everybody
should be played by Joseph Fiennes. I don’t think Joe would make a
good Abigail, but there’s no accounting for taste.

Thank you to Libby Hill, who bought 20 (!) copies of
Minivan
and spread them around the Midwest. And thanks to
friends and family who came to the book launch party (thank you,
Penny’s Restaurant!) and introduced me to the lovely world of
signing books.

Thanks, again, to Bruce Bortz, who perseveres when
all signs indicate he shouldn’t, and I’m glad.

A special thank you to the DorothyL crowd, whose
many wonderful members have taken me to their hearts and encouraged
me. When I wrote
Minivan
, I had no idea there was such a
thing as a “cozy,” so I’ve been well educated by the online mystery
community. Special thanks to Meg Chittenden, Mindy Starns Clark
(for showing me the ropes at every convention I’ve ever attended),
and our intrepid moderator, Diane Kovacs.

An enormous special thanks to my web design genius,
Judy Kolva, without whom Aaron would be homeless on the
Internet.

And of course, my eternal gratitude to my family:
Evie, Josh, and my incomparable wife Jessica. Without you, there is
no point.

—Jeffrey Cohen

October, 2003

“I declare Jeffrey Cohen ‘King of the Zingers.’ His
Aaron Tucker character doesn’t know when to stop. . . and
that’s the good news.
Legs
definitely has legs.”

—
T
IM
C
OCKEY
, B
ESTSELLING AUTHOR OF SUCH MYSTERIES AS
M
URDER IN THE
H
EARSE
D
EGREE

“A warm welcome back to Aaron Tucker! With his
second novel, Jeffrey Cohen delivers another intriguing plot, more
laughs, and the characters readers of
For Whom the Minivan
Rolls
will happily recall. Like Spenser, Elvis Cole, and
Stephanie Plum, Aaron Tucker is evolving beyond being a
character—he’s becoming a brand!”

—
M
ICHAEL
L
EVINE
,
RENOWNED
H
OLLYWOOD PUBLICIST
AND BESTSELLING AUTHOR

“A delightful, breezy mystery, staking a claim just
as firmly in the world of realistic, human emotion as it does in
the grand tradition of the classic whodunit. A fun ride,
indeed.”

—
D
REW
Z.
G
REENBERG
,
WRITER
, “S
MALLVILLE
,” “B
UFFY THE
V
AMPIRE
S
LAYER
”

“Aaron Tucker has Groucho’s wit, Harpo’s sweetness,
and Chico’s talent for well-meaning screw-ups.
A Farewell to
Legs
is shot through with wit that snaps and sparkles (but
never wounds), not only in the dialogue where you expect it, but in
the narrative, keeping the pace crackling and lively. I laughed
aloud repeatedly. I mentally noted lines to steal and drop into my
conversation, hoping to pass them off as my own (I should be so
lucky). Read this book now while you still can. It’s so much fun,
it will surely be illegal soon.”

—
P. C
ASEY
M
ORGAN
,
DEVELOPMENT DIRECTOR
, KWSG, NPR A
FFILIATE
, T
ULSA
,
OK

“
A Farewell to Legs
is a marvelous ride from
a New Jersey high school reunion to the solution of a politician’s
demise in Washington DC. Cohen writes a funny and touching novel
that will keep you guessing to the end. His portrayal of the
‘normal American family’ is one of the best I’ve ever read in a
mystery novel. Give yourself a double treat. . . read
For Whom the Minivan Rolls
(his first book)
and
A Farewell to Legs
!”

—
B
ONNIE
C
LAESON
, C
O
-
OWNER
,
B
LACK
O
RCHID
B
OOKSTORE
,
N
EW
Y
ORK
, NY

“Jeffrey Cohen is a funny man, and behind the
wisecracks there’s a clever and engaging mystery. The pun also
rises.”

—
D
ANIEL
S
TASHOWER
, A
UTHOR
, H
ARRY
H
OUDINI MYSTERY SERIES

“When I reviewed
For Whom the Minivan Rolls
on DL, I asked if there really are true-life dads like the
fictional Aaron Tucker. Now, can you believe a dad who lets his
family get a dog?!
A Farewell to Legs
is an excellent next
book in the Aaron Tucker series. The title pun was almost more than
I could handle without choking. The mysteries (there are several)
range from the outrageous to the more outrageous. I found the
solution to the stink bomb problem especially amusing. And Aaron’s
declaration to Abby on the subject of Ms. Cleavage should be
included in the repertoire of all happily married people, or those
who desire to be happily married. Read this. You’ll like it.”

—
D
OROTHY
L
M
ODERATOR
D
IANE
K. K
OVACS
,
AKA
H
ARRIET
V
ANE

“Reluctant sleuth and writer Aaron Tucker is back
and still trying not to get involved in murder investigations. This
time, he goes to his high school reunion, only to find the best
looking woman from his class determined to get what she wants from
him. As Aaron is hopelessly in love with his wife, he is not at all
disappointed that Stephanie Jacobs Gibson wants him to find out who
murdered her husband. Stephanie pulls some strings to get Aaron
hired by
Snapdragon
magazine to do some investigative
reporting on the case. . . All is told with a lot of
humor, and. . . enough zingers and funny lines for my
taste. I’m looking forward to the next in the series.”

—
D
EADLY
P
LEASURES
M
AGAZINE
(M
AGGIE
M
ASON
)