Murder With All The Trimmings Part 26

Twelve fifteen. Josie drove aimlessly through Maplewood. Not a living soul was roaming the streets, not even a stray dog. The night grew darker as more house lights winked off. Maplewood was a city of people who worked for a living.

Twelve twenty.Ten minutes to go, and then Jane would call 911, and Josie knew that her life would be over. The police would broadcast an AMBER Alert. Amelia's grandfather would declare Josie unfit for motherhood and take her daughter to another country.

Josie's phone rang. She pulled the car over, took a deep breath, and answered it.

"Mom?" said a quavery voice.

"Amelia?" Josie said, relief flooding her. "Are you okay? Where are you? How are you?"

"I'm at Heather's place, Mommy, and I want to come home. She lives-"

"I know where she lives," Josie said. "Hang on. I'll be right there."

"Mommy? Be careful. She's mean. So is her mother."

"But I'm meaner than both of them put together," Josie said.

"Bring a gun or something," Amelia said.

"A gun? What the h.e.l.l is going on? I'm calling the police, Amelia Marcus."

"No! Just get me out of here, please. She's crazy. You were right, Mommy."

"Okay, honey. I'll be right there."

There was no answer. Amelia had hung up.

"Mommy." Her daughter must be terrified. Amelia considered herself too old to use "Mommy."

Josie speed-dialed Jane and said, "Amelia called. I'm on my way to get her. She's all right."

"Thank goodness," Jane said.

"Mom, please call Mike and Stan and tell them I'll meet them at your place."

"Josie, where are you going?"

"I'll tell you shortly, Mom. You're breaking up," Josie lied, and switched off her phone.

Josie didn't have a gun. But wait-she had something she could use. She opened the trunk of her car and pulled out Alyce's Christmas present, the creme brulee torch. With trembling fingers she inserted the butane cylinder. She put the torch on the seat beside her and drove to Heather's house, wondering why her daughter was visiting that "loser face."

Josie figured she was about ten minutes from the apartment where Heather and her mother lived. She drove too fast on the freezing slush, grateful there were no other cars around in case hers spun out on an ice patch. She went into a long slide at a red light and forced herself to slow down.

You won't help anyone if you get into an accident, she reminded herself. You have a daughter to save.

Josie was a long block away when her phone rang again. She pulled over again and answered it.

"Amelia?" she said.

"Sorry," said the acid voice oozing out of her phone, "you've got me, Ms. Mystery Shopper."

"Who is this?" Josie asked.

"Doreen. The woman whose business you ruined with your lying little report. I've got a cash-flow problem, but you can help me."

"What?" Josie said. She wasn't sure she understood Doreen.

"I need money, b.i.t.c.h. That clear enough for you?"

"Money? Why?" This conversation wasn't making sense to Josie.

"I need twenty thousand in cash to keep my store alive through the end of January. That is, if you want to see your s.k.a.n.ky daughter."

"But-but-I don't have that kind of money," Josie said.

"Then you'd better get it," Doreen said. "Ask Lover Boy. He's got lots of money. If he really loves you, he'll give it to you, no questions asked."

"At this time of night?"

"When better?" Doreen said.

"I'll be over as soon as I can," Josie said.

Her hands were shaking when she ended the call. Doreen had finally gone over the edge. She was holding Amelia for ransom.

Should she call Mike? Josie knew he'd go ballistic when he heard about Doreen. She also knew Mike didn't have that kind of cash on hand.

What about the police? No, Doreen really was crazy. She could hurt Amelia, even kill her. I have to save my daughter, Josie thought. The police will try to negotiate. I'll rip Doreen apart if she harms Amelia. This is up to me. I can call the cops when I have my daughter safe.

Josie wondered if she was behaving foolishly, and her mind went back to those movies she hated, where the scantily clad heroine ran unarmed into the haunted house when she knew the ax murderer was inside.

No, she decided. I'm not unarmed. She patted Alyce's Christmas present on the seat beside her. If she had to, she'd burn her way into Doreen's home.

Josie's car slid and skidded the short distance to Doreen's apartment. Doreen and her daughter lived on the second floor of a solid brick building from the middle of the last century. Doreen's faded blue VW was parked at the end of the U-shaped asphalt drive, as if she was the last resident to arrive home. Josie rammed the back of Doreen's VW, caving in the engine compartment. It made a satisfying crunch.

Josie's battered Honda shuddered. She checked the front end. The old car had a few new dents, but it seemed drivable.

Doreen came rus.h.i.+ng out of the apartment's lobby. Her hair was nearly standing on end. Her baggy black sweater flapped like a manta ray in the cold winter air.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Doreen screamed. Lights popped on in nearby apartments.

"Quiet," Josie said. "Unless you want the police here." She grabbed Doreen by the hair and flicked on the butane torch. "I want my daughter. Now."

"Where's my money?" Doreen asked.

Josie grabbed four strands of Doreen's hair on the left side of her head and yanked hard. They came out in her hand.

Doreen screamed in pain. Josie fired up the creme brulee torch and set the four hairs on fire. They flared up and went out quickly, leaving the acrid scent of scorched hair lingering in the air.

Doreen's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"If you don't want to see the rest of your gray hair turn flaming red," Josie said, "get my daughter out here. Right now."

Doreen turned to go inside, but Josie grabbed her arm and dug her nails in.

"Ow, you're hurting me," Doreen said.

"Good," Josie said. She flipped open her cell, looked up her last received call, and hit SEND.

Heather answered. "Mom, is that you? What's going on? Freak face is a problem."

"You don't know what problems are, Heather, unless you let my daughter go," Josie said. "Now."

She handed the phone to Doreen. "Tell her," Josie said. "Before I set your head on fire."

"Let her go," Doreen said. She raised her voice. "I SAID NOW."

Josie took the phone back and said, "I'm counting to ten, Heather. If I reach it, I'll call 911 and you'll find yourself sitting in juvie."

Josie had gotten to eight when the front door of the apartment building opened.

"Mommy!" Amelia screamed and ran out. Her long dark hair was flying. Her pale face was flushed pink. Her hands were tied with some kind of elastic band.

Josie untied her daughter's hands, tossed the band in her car, and slapped Doreen across the face. Amelia ran for the pa.s.senger side, yanked it open, then locked her door.

"What about my car?" Doreen shrieked. "You hit it."

"d.a.m.n right," Josie said. "Let's call the police and report the accident. I'll also give them this band, which has your fingerprints all over it. Oh, and be sure to sue me. I'm guessing the Naughty or Nice franchise people will love to know how bad you've been."

"Mom," Amelia called. "We have to go now."

"Yes, we do," Josie said. She drove away in her battered Honda, with her daughter and the smoking creme brulee torch.

Chapter 30.

Josie backed out of the drive, nearly sideswiped a trash container, and barreled out onto Clayton Road.

Amelia was s.h.i.+vering and shaking in the seat beside her mother. "I'm sorry, Mom," she said between sobs. "It's all my fault."

Yes, it is, Josie wanted to say, but her daughter's shocked, pale face silenced her.

Josie waited for a red light, and speed-dialed her mother while her car idled. "I've got her," she said. "Amelia is safe."

"Praise G.o.d. How soon before you're home?" Jane asked.

"About forty-five minutes. We're stopping at Steak 'n Shake."

"Josie, come home now. I'll make you bacon and eggs. Mike and Stan are drinking coffee in the kitchen."

"Tell them thanks, Mom. Amelia and I need to talk first, so I can find out what happened. We won't be long."

"Josie, it's one thirty in the morning. Amelia has school in a few hours."

"See you," Josie said. She shut her phone and pulled into the Steak 'n Shake lot on Manchester. The stark black, white, and orange-red interior seemed oddly homey at this late hour. Even the glaring lights looked welcoming. The restaurant had a handful of late-night customers. Why did normal people look like derelicts in the early hours of the morning? Josie wondered.

In the harsh light she could see how tired her daughter was, but Josie was too angry to offer Amelia comfort.

They carefully avoided the subject while they ordered burgers, fries, and c.o.kes. When the waitress left, Josie said, "Now, would you care to explain why you stole six wine coolers out of my fridge?"

"I wanted to catch Daddy's killer," Amelia said.

"How were you going to do that?" Josie asked. "What if the police caught you with alcohol? You're underage. What were you thinking?"

"I was trying to help," Amelia said. Two tears rolled down her pale face.

"You scared your grandmother and me half to death," Josie said. "We thought you were kidnapped. You didn't have the courtesy to tell us where you were going."

"If I did that, you wouldn't let me go," Amelia said, with perfect kid logic.

"You're d.a.m.ned right I wouldn't, young lady," Josie said.

An unshaven man at the next booth stared at them, and Josie lowered her voice. She'd been worried sick at her daughter's disappearance. Now that Amelia was safe, Josie was seething.

"Explain yourself," she said.

"I took the wine coolers to give to Heather so she'd talk to me," Amelia said.

"Why would she talk to you?" Josie said. "She hates you."

"But she likes to drink," Amelia said. "It's hard for her to get booze. Her mother was going to be out all night with her boyfriend, so we had the place to ourselves."

"You used that girl's weakness to get information? I'm ashamed of you."

"But it worked," Amelia said. "It wasn't easy, Mom. Heather made fun of me at first, but she wanted those wine coolers. She chugged two real fast and started talking. Then she got sick. She barfed all over the bathroom. I had to help clean it up. It was gross."

"Good," Josie said.

"Heather started whining about how much she hated her mother's store. She's the one who turned the mice and roaches loose in it so it would close down."

"Where did she get the roaches?" Josie asked.

"From the Dumpster behind the school cafeteria. She made sure you got a piece of cake with a roach in it. She thought if you gave the store a bad report, it would close. She said you got a real sick look on your face when your 'raisin' had legs."