Murder Is A Piece Of Cake Part 28

Amelia looked stricken.

"I was teasing, honey," she said. "If I go back to school, I'll go to a different college than yours."

"You're not going to be a vet, are you, Mom?" That was Amelia's current career choice. Josie suspected she'd have another one next week.

"Nope, I'm just going to marry one," Josie said.

She stacked five bags of Halloween candy on the kitchen table and poured Hershey's Bars into a big bowl.

"I'm glad you don't give lame healthy treats like raisins," Amelia said. "Can I have a Hershey bar? I'm wearing my witch costume to answer the door."

Josie's neighborhood still had an old-fas.h.i.+oned Halloween. The little kids started coming by with their parents about six o'clock. Their cute costumes would be a good distraction for Amelia, Josie decided.

By eight thirty, she would turn off her porch light. She didn't open her door for the older kids. They were too scary, even if they didn't wear costumes.

"Watch the door, Amelia," Josie said. "I have to make a phone call."

Before she could enjoy Halloween, she had to get Phoebe Winstid's alibi. She checked the date of Molly's murder, got out her cell phone, and draped a handkerchief over the speaker to disguise her voice.

Phoebe answered with a cautious "Yes?"

"Mrs. Winstid, this is the fraud division for your credit card." Josie deliberately did not give a company name.

"Yes," Phoebe said. "Is there something wrong with my MasterCard?"

"I hope not," Josie said. "That's why we're checking. Did you have c.o.c.ktails and dinner at the Four Seasons restaurant in Manhattan Wednesday, October twenty-fourth?"

"Manhattan?" she said. "I was nowhere near Manhattan. I was here in St. Louis at home. I ate leftovers in front of my television set. Of course, I can't prove that, can I?"

"No, Mrs. Winstid. But we see no other indications that you were traveling then. That's why our computer flagged the charge."

"May I ask how much it's for?" she asked.

"Five hundred sixty-three dollars and thirty-eight cents," Josie said.

"Oh, my word," Phoebe said.

"But you're not responsible for it," Josie said.

"You're sure?" Phoebe's voice was trembling.

"I'm absolutely positive," Josie said. "We'll remove the charge immediately. It won't be on your next bill."

"I'm so glad you called me," Phoebe said.

"Me, too," Josie said.

Now I know for sure you don't have an alibi for the night of Molly Deaver's murder.

Chapter 32.

Thursday, November 1 Clunk. Clunk. Clatter.

The sounds rattled through Josie's midnight dreams and she stirred.

Yap! Yap! Yap!

The sharp barks made her sit straight up in bed. That sounded like Stuart Little. Josie slipped on her robe and heard a woman scream, "LET GO OF ME, YOU STUPID MUTT!"

She sounded too young to be Mrs. Mueller.

It was Halloween night. Someone was vandalizing the house.

Josie grabbed her cell phone and the pepper spray off her nightstand, and ran for the porch as the barks, clanks, and shouts increased. Now a police siren howled and tires screeched. Police light bars disco-danced in front of Josie's flat.

She opened the front door and saw her mother doing a triumphant war dance on the front porch.

"I caught the mum thief!" Jane yelled.

"Looks like Stuart caught her," Josie said.

The s.h.i.+h tzu had his teeth firmly in the ankle of a wild-eyed soccer mom. Josie could see blood on her jeans leg, just above her New Balance shoes. Jane's bronze mums were uprooted and potting soil was scattered across the well-swept porch. Ted's tuna-can trap was wrapped around the plants' roots.

The police officer pounded up the porch steps, his smooth face serious. Even his short hair looked earnest.

"Officer, this woman was stealing on my front porch," Jane said.

"This dog attacked me," the soccer mom said. "I was going for a walk. Now my leg is bleeding." The captured thief wore high-rise mom jeans and a dark blue T-s.h.i.+rt.

"Woof!" said Stuart, the tail-wagging attack dog.

"Walking alone at midnight?" Jane said. "I don't think so. She was uprooting my plants, Officer. That's her SUV parked behind my daughter's Honda."

The dark green SUV had the tailgate down. The streetlight showed the back was crammed with flowering plants.

"She was all set to add my mums to her stash," Jane said.

Mrs. M shot out of her front door in a green chenille robe and fuzzy green slippers. Her face was slathered with white cream and her sprayed hair was wrapped in a toilet paper turban to protect it. Officer Earnest's eyes bulged.

"She stole my flowers, too, Officer," Mrs. M said. The TP rustled on her hairdo. "She even stole my poison ivy."

The soccer mom absently scratched her hand at the mention of poison ivy. Josie fought to suppress a giggle.

It took nearly an hour to sort out the crisis. The soccer mom was charged with misdemeanor trespa.s.s, with the promise of more charges. "We're restricted from making arrests for most misdemeanor crimes that don't happen in our presence," Officer Earnest said. "But based on the uprooted plant material and the dog bite, I can charge you with trespa.s.s and the theft of your neighbor's plants, since she was able to identify her property. Unless you can produce receipts for the other plants in your vehicle, I will also charge you with petty theft and possession of stolen property."

The soccer mom kept . . . well, mum. "I want to call my lawyer," she said, and not another word after that. She even refused to give her name. Her driver's license said she was Trudy Sandusky. Her address was in the well-heeled suburb of Frontenac.

Mrs. M reclaimed her mums from the back of the SUV, but she left the poison ivy. The rest of the stolen plants were taken to the station house. Josie wondered how the homeowners would ID their lost plants. Most were uprooted from their pots and dropped in cardboard boxes. Trudy had lined the cargo bed of her SUV with newspapers to protect it during to her plant-rustling spree.

It was one ten a.m. when the circus folded. Josie helped her mother replant the mums. She could see Mrs. M doing the same thing on her porch. Jane watered her repotted mums. Then, seized with a sudden impulse, she stomped over to Mrs. Mueller's porch.

"I told you my son-in-law's system was a good one," she said. "The thief was too dumb to recognize poison ivy. And you thought g.a.n.g.b.a.n.gers were stealing your flowers."

Mrs. Mueller gave Jane a glare that should have bored holes in her back, while Josie's st.u.r.dy mother marched back home.

Josie checked on Amelia on her way back to bed. Her daughter was sound asleep, her cat, Harry, alert at the foot of Amelia's bed. Josie scratched his oversized ears. "It's okay, old man," she whispered. "You can go back to sleep."

Josie's head barely sank into the pillow when her alarm rang. She opened one sleep-heavy eye. Time to get Amelia off to school. She was grateful her daughter didn't give Josie any trouble this morning. Amelia fed Harry, ate her breakfast, and put on an acceptable school outfit: long white T-s.h.i.+rt, skinny black jeans, and a jade scarf. Josie dressed and pounded down four cups of coffee. All that coffee made Josie jumpy, but she wasn't totally awake-until Amelia asked a question on the way to school: "Are you going to be Mrs. Ted Scottsmeyer, Mom?"

"I'm going to stay Josie Marcus," she said. "That's who I've been for thirty-one years. I've gotten used to my name."

"But how will people know you're married?" Amelia asked.

"I'll have a wedding ring to go with this," Josie said. She wiggled her ring finger and the double-diamond engagement ring sparkled in the sun. "They'll know. And Ted and I will know."

"But you'll still be married even if you don't take his name?" Amelia asked.

Ah, that's what this was about. "Definitely," Josie said. "And we'll have the pictures to prove it. Amelia, many brides don't take their husband's last name-especially older brides. It doesn't mean I don't love Ted, and he doesn't mind. He's not the sort of man who has to own me."

Amelia shrugged.

They were in the Barrington School drive. Amelia ducked her mother's kiss and ran inside. Josie sat for a few seconds, enjoying the crisp fall morning. The campus looked especially pretty. A polite beep from another mom reminded Josie she was taking up valuable s.p.a.ce.

Back home, she was sweeping up the potting soil on the front porch when she saw her mother on the walkway, Stuart Little trotting at her side. Jane was glowing after last night's daring capture of the mum thief.

"How's the hero?" Josie asked, scratching the s.h.i.+h tzu's ears. "Did he get another medal for capturing the flower rustler?"

"He was rewarded with a slice of ham," Jane said.

Stuart wagged his tail.

"You may look cute," Josie told him, "but you're one tough dog. You've caught two crooks now. First, you bit a murderer. Now you've nailed a mum stealer."

"He only attacks on command," Jane said. "What are your plans for today?"

I'm bringing Molly's killer to justice, she wanted to say. But Josie knew it was too soon to say that. Rita's murder had been a terrible lesson.

"Alyce and I are going to help Molly's sister deal with the piles of wedding presents in her living room. Emily can't face them."

"That poor girl," Jane said. "What a horrible duty for her."

"It is," Josie said. "But Alyce is good with people. I'm just along as muscle. I want to call Ted, too, before I leave."

Josie's cell rang. She picked it off the porch rail and checked the display. "That's Alyce, Mom. See you later," she said, and went inside.

"Josie, I hope I caught you at home," Alyce said. She could hear Justin fussing in the background.

"What's wrong with your little guy?" Josie asked.

"I think he's coming down with a cold," Alyce said. "He has a low-grade fever-ninety-nine point two-and he's miserable. I don't want to leave him alone with his nanny. He needs his mommy and I want to monitor his temperature. I can't go to Emily's today. Can you go without me?"

"Sure," Josie said. "Do you want to postpone until tomorrow?"

"Connie told me Emily's husband is being difficult," Josie said. "He wants her to clear all Molly's stuff out of the house."

"Brad sounds like a jerk," Josie said. "Does he really believe if Emily removes her sister's wedding gifts, her grief will go away?"

"I don't know how someone like that thinks," Alyce said. "I'm just glad I didn't marry him. Will you help her?"

"Of course," Josie said.

"You were right about Emily being hard up for money," Alyce said. "I talked with Connie yesterday. She said Emily was asked to resign from her committee because she embezzled eight thousand dollars."

"You're joking," Josie said.

"Happens more than you'd think," Alyce said. "It's not the first time I've seen it. The embezzler quietly resigns and the group pretends it never happened. But this money was for the food bank. The committee is threatening to go to the police and press charges unless Emily gives them back their money."

"Would they really do that?" Josie asked.

"I think they're bluffing," Alyce said. "Emily's embezzling will be difficult to prove and embarra.s.sing for Wood Winds to admit. The rest of St. Louis already thinks this subdivision is in the crooked one percent."

Josie kept silent. That was her opinion, too, with the exception of Alyce and a handful of other residents.

"If Emily doesn't cave," Alyce said, "Wood Winds will probably suck it up and make up her loss. We won't like to, but we can afford it."

"So she'll get away scot-free?" Josie asked.

"Oh, she'll be punished," Alyce said. "She'll be tossed off a major committee, and that will hurt Brad's business. He needs his neighbors. Enough petty subdivision politics. What's going on with you and your investigation? Any progress?"

"Yes," Josie said. "I found out that Phoebe Winstid and her son don't have alibis for the night of Molly's murder."

"How did you manage that?" Alyce asked.

"You inspired me," Josie said, "with that call from your credit card company." She told Alyce how she disguised her voice with a handkerchief over her cell phone and the make-believe call from the credit card company.

"Except I said her card had been used for dinner at the Four Seasons on the day of Molly's murder."

"Brilliant," Alyce said.

"Either the mother or the son killed Molly-and I think it's probably Phoebe. She even drives the same kind of car that was in the security video: a charcoal Impala."