Murder Is A Piece Of Cake Part 26

"The night Molly was shot was warm. She'd gone back to stalking Ted. Molly felt safe sitting in the clinic's brightly lit parking lot. She could hear-and see-Lenore's navy rental car and she knew Lenore had a gun. If she'd seen Lenore drive into the lot, Molly would have rolled up her window and roared away. She wouldn't stick around so Lenore could walk over and shoot her in the head."

"Makes sense," Alyce said.

"But she might let her old love, George, get close," Josie said. "Or Phoebe, her future mother-in-law. Both hated Molly, but I think Phoebe wanted her dead."

"Why?" Alyce asked.

"Because George found the woman he wants to marry when he moved to Montana," Josie said. "He's engaged now-for real. Phoebe is a widow and I got the impression she's hard up for money. Thanks to Molly, George, his new wife and their future children will be more than a thousand miles away-and Phoebe can't afford to visit them often. Molly deprived her of the joys of being a St. Louis grandma."

"A good reason," Alyce said. "But how do you prove it?"

"I have to find out where Phoebe was the night Molly was murdered, but I can't figure out how."

"Don't think about it," Alyce said. "Give your brain a rest. We're at the bridal shop. Let's concentrate on your final fitting."

Bridal mannequins stared out of the windows of Brides by Beatrice as if waiting for grooms to rescue them. Beatrice, a grandmotherly woman with her hair tied up in a bun, met Josie at the door. She wore a dress with straight pins stuck in the lapels and a yellow measuring tape around her neck.

"And we're less than three weeks away, my dear," she said with a hint of an Irish lilt. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine," Josie said.

"Come into the fitting room and I'll bring your dress and veil."

Josie changed into her lingerie and white heels for the fitting. Alyce whistled. "A strapless satin corset with garters? That's hot-looking."

"Hope Ted feels the same way," Josie said.

"Any man with a pulse will," Alyce said.

Beatrice carried Josie's wedding gown in her arms and hung it on a hook. "Here," she said, handing Josie a tissue. "Take off your lipstick. I don't want any stains on this dress."

Josie dutifully rubbed the color off her lips. Then Alyce and Beatrice helped her step into the dress. Beatrice zipped it up the back and fastened the hook at the top of the zipper.

"Now, let's take a look at you," she said, and stood back.

"The length is perfect with those heels," Alyce said.

"But the fit is not quite right," Beatrice said. "You've lost weight. We can fix that with a few nips and tucks." She tucked and pinned until she seemed satisfied.

"I'm glad we're taking this dress in instead of letting it out," she said. "That will hide the pin holes. This silk drapes nicely. There. That's perfect. Now let's try the veil. Are you wearing your hair up for your wedding?"

"I'm wearing it like this," Josie said, "except I'll have my hair done at the salon."

"Your swing bob is stylish," Beatrice said. "And you're doing the right thing. Some of my brides pile their hair like Marie Antoinette and spend their wedding day with their hair twisted, pulled, and pinned tight. Gives them headaches, it does, and the last thing you want is a headache on your wedding night. That's no way to start a marriage."

Josie put on the shoulder-length veil of silk illusion trimmed with pearls and crystals.

"So elegant," Beatrice said. "My name means *bringer of joy.' That's what all my brides bring me. I hope you and Ted have a long, happy life together."

Alyce blinked away tears. "It was just a white dress until you put on the veil," she said. "Now it's a real wedding dress."

If only, Josie thought, I have a real wedding day.

Chapter 30.

Wednesday, October 31 "Alyce," Josie said, "I've done something wrong and I want to apologize."

Josie was examining a black satin dog bow tie in the bridal shop. She couldn't look her best friend in the eye.

"You're apologizing to me?" Alyce asked. "What did you do?"

"I didn't speak up," Josie said. "You're my best friend, and I sat there and did nothing."

"So what was your terrible crime?" Alyce asked.

"Lenore insisted that Ted's brother, d.i.c.k, be in our wedding. Ted didn't even want to invite him. Those two don't get along. d.i.c.k plays stupid practical jokes. He can't even hold a job. Last time he was fired for putting his boss's stapler in Jell-O."

"Just like The Office," Alyce said. "How original. No wonder he got fired."

"Ted's still furious at him because the idiot superglued a ball to Festus's paw."

"I don't blame Ted," Alyce said. "How old is his brother?"

"Thirty," Josie said.

"Inexcusable," Alyce said.

"What I did was just as wrong," Josie said. She rubbed the bow's satin, as if she could make a wish and her problem would disappear. "I said d.i.c.k could escort you at our wedding."

Alyce laughed. "That's all?"

"That's enough," Josie said. "I should have stood up to Lenore and refused to have that man in my wedding."

"Josie, sweetie, of all the things to worry about," Alyce said. "I can handle him. I'm the mother of a two-year-old. I entertain dozens of ego-flushed lawyers for Jake's career. One idiot brother won't be a problem."

"You're a true friend, Alyce," Josie said.

"Yes, I am. And as your true friend, believe me when I say Ted's brother is one thing you don't have to worry about. Don't fight with your mother-in-law over this. Now, on to important matters." Alyce held up a white satin dog collar with a black bow tie on it. "What do you think of this for Festus?"

"The bow won't show," Josie said. "He's a black Lab."

"Then how about a red bow tie?" Alyce asked.

"Perfect," Josie said. "I'll get a black bow tie for Stuart Little and a cat-sized bow tie for Harry."

"What about Marmalade?"

"Ted's cat should have a girlie white bow," Josie said. "It will look good with her orange fur."

"Will the pets be at the wedding?" Alyce asked.

"No, the clinic interns will bring them to Tower Grove Park. We're having some wedding photos taken there."

"That's where Ted proposed," Alyce said. "That's so romantic. Are you going to Ted Drewes afterward?"

Generations of bridal parties stopped at Ted Drewes Frozen Custard stand to scarf up the city's favorite treats.

"We're going straight to the reception after the photos," Josie said. "But we could go there now. I could use a chocolate chip concrete."

"Deal," Alyce said.

Twenty minutes later, they were parked at the old frozen custard stand. Its peaked gables dripped wooden icicles. Ted Drewes was on Chippewa Street, part of the legendary Route 66. Ted's concrete shakes were legendary, too.

Alyce ordered a Cardinal Sin with cherries and hot fudge. Josie wanted a cla.s.sic chocolate chip concrete. They sat inside Alyce's SUV with piles of paper napkins and spooned in their creamy concoctions.

"I still remember the first time Jake took me here," Alyce said. "It was an August night and the line wrapped around the building, but it moved fast. The parking lot was a party. Jake insisted I get a concrete shake, and demonstrated how it got its name. He turned the cup upside-down with the spoon in it and it didn't slide out."

"The concretes are thick as ever," Josie said. She stopped wolfing hers down. "Brain freeze. Ouch."

Alyce sc.r.a.ped the last of her concrete and licked the spoon. "Do you have time to swing by Emily's with me? I want to see how she's doing."

"It must be hard for her," Josie said. "That poor family had to go from planning a wedding to a funeral."

"That's why I want to check on Emily," Alyce said. "I haven't seen her outside since the funeral-not even to pick up the mail."

Josie came out of her sugar stupor when Alyce was waved through the Wood Winds gate. Emily's home jutted out of the ground like a cantilevered crystal. Josie thought it looked interesting, but cold, like Emily.

"Emily doesn't seem anything like her sister," she said. "Molly loved antiques, flowers, and ruffles."

"Different hobbies, too," Alyce said. "Molly stalked men. Emily serves on charity committees. She got all the practical DNA in that family-and all the good sense. Good. Looks like she's here. She's working on her roses."

Big-boned Emily wore her overalls like a farmer, over a worn plaid s.h.i.+rt. A frayed Cardinals ball cap and thick gardening gloves completed the outfit. She waved, then hurried to the car with a half-dozen pink roses in a flat basket.

"Alyce," she said. "Hi. I'm getting the last roses of summer. I'm sorry, I know we've been introduced, but I can't remember your name."

"This is Joanie," Alyce said, reminding Josie not to say her real name.

"Would you like to come in for coffee and cake?" Emily asked.

"Coffee, yes," Josie said, "but no cake. We stopped at Ted Drewes."

They followed Emily through a two-car garage that dwarfed the bright red Kia Rio. "Is that a new car?" Alyce asked.

"I got rid of that big old Cayenne," Emily said. "It was too hard to handle in traffic. My little Kia is better for the environment. I told Brad it should be green, not red."

Emily slipped off her shoes at the door, and Josie saw her little toe poking through her sock. "The kitchen is a mess," she said.

The kitchen was a shock after Alyce's well-ordered domain. The counter was cluttered with an open loaf of sandwich bread, milk, cereal boxes, ketchup and mustard bottles, and brown-speckled bananas. The sink was piled with dirty dishes.

"Dishwasher broke," Emily said as she plugged in the coffeemaker. "Haven't had time to call the repairman. Come sit in the breakfast room while our coffee perks."

The dining table was a sheet of gla.s.s balanced on chrome legs with four stark black chairs. An orange wall added what decorators liked to call a "pop" of color. Josie thought she could trace the faint outlines of a darker rectangle on the wall and wondered if a painting had once hung there.

Josie could see a great room that was bare except for a big-screen television and two plastic lawn chairs on thick gold carpet.

Emily stood at the kitchen island, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the roses and dropping them in a vase of water.

"How are you doing?" Alyce asked.

Emily gave a shrug. "Okay," she said.

"Which means not okay," Alyce said.

"Molly was so young," Emily said. "It's hard. We may have to put Aunt Martha in a.s.sisted living. She's crushed by Molly's . . . by Molly's . . ." Emily finally said the word, "pa.s.sing."

"I'm sorry," Alyce said.

"Poor woman," Emily said, wiping her eyes. "She's had enough sorrow for two lifetimes. Molly's killer has been caught and I hope they lock her up forever."

She sliced the rose stem with a sharp snick! "Catching the killer is supposed to bring closure, but it doesn't feel like anything at all. Your coffee's ready."

She returned with three mugs and a coffeepot. "There's sugar on the table," she said. "Would you like cream?"

"Black coffee is fine," Josie said. Alyce nodded her agreement.

Emily set the pot on a trivet. "Can I ask for your help?"

"That's why we're here," Alyce said.

"Bring your coffee and follow me," she said.

Emily padded down a hall to an enormous living room with khaki carpeting, orange walls, and a midcentury chandelier. The only furniture was two long gray metal folding tables heaped with boxes. Some were wrapped with white or silver paper. Others were in cardboard s.h.i.+pping boxes.

Molly's wedding presents, Josie thought.

She saw a soup tureen splashed with pink cabbage roses, a cut crystal vase, a scalloped-edged platter and a stack of unopened gift cards.

"I'm trying to deal with Molly's wedding presents," Emily said. "The grief counselor says I should handle them myself to process her death."

"Process?" Alyce asked. Josie heard disapproval in her voice.