Murder Is A Piece Of Cake Part 32

Chapter 36.

Friday, November 2 How do I get Lenore to go home? Josie wondered.

The time loomed on her bedside clock: 12:08 in the morning.

She had to report to Lenore at the Ritz-Carlton in less than eight hours. Their battle would be fought over eggs and m.u.f.fins. Lenore would delicately carve away the unique sentiment until Ted and Josie's wedding was one more so-what ceremony.

The process has already started, Josie thought. Lenore insisted that I ditch my plebeian poinsettias and I caved. I gave in on the string quartet and the chair covers. By the time she signs the breakfast check, I'll have as much say-so in our wedding as the bride on my cake.

Unless I can persuade Lenore to go back to Florida.

She has a husband, a successful plastic surgeon, stuck at home with a broken ankle. Boca babes must be prowling the property, eager to pamper a rich, lonely man. I could remind Lenore how easy it is for a woman of a certain age to lose her meal ticket.

Except Ted says his stepfather is a decent guy. It's not fair to suggest Whit is unfaithful. Ted's mother, for all her faults, seems to care about her husband. She just loves herself more.

If only I could get her out of my hair.

Hair! There's my answer. An inspired one, Josie decided, as she drifted off to sleep.

Her alarm rang all too soon. A cold rain lashed the windows, and Amelia fought to stay coc.o.o.ned in her comfortable bed. Josie prodded her daughter through her morning routine, insisting she wear her yellow rain hoodie. Jane had cheerfully volunteered to chauffeur Amelia to school on this miserable morning.

Josie steeled herself for the fight with another cup of hot coffee. She donned her Ritz-worthy pantsuit like battle armor, adding a bright red scarf to give herself courage. She was ready.

The morning looked the way Josie felt: cold and gloomy. She expertly maneuvered the rain-slick streets in the rush hour. By 8:05, she and Lenore were seated in the cus.h.i.+ony comfort of the restaurant and the server had taken their orders.

"So nice of you to come out on this dreadful day," Lenore said. "Thank you again. My attorney says you helped a little to get me released."

More than a little, Josie thought. You wouldn't be sipping that orange juice without me. She wasn't surprised Shel Clark had skimped on her share of the credit. He couldn't command that fat fee if he admitted a local n.o.body saved Lenore.

Josie smiled at Lenore. Ted would tell his mother what really happened.

"I'm glad you brought your notebook," Lenore said.

Josie's coffee churned into an acid brew. Brace yourself, she thought.

"Oh, here comes our breakfast," Lenore said. "We'll eat first, then work on your wedding."

Josie blessed the server for her timely reprieve and dawdled over her eggs.

"Something wrong with your breakfast?" Lenore asked.

"Savoring it," Josie said. She finished the last bite of m.u.f.fin, then launched her plan.

"You look well after your ordeal, Lenore," she said. "Liz, the woman you met in . . ." Could she say jail at the Ritz? Josie wondered. Better not. "At the other place you stayed did a lovely job on your hair."

"Thank you," Lenore said. "She is good, isn't she?"

"Too bad she couldn't work on your color," Josie said.

Lenore's face went white as the table linen. "What do you mean?"

"I can see a teeny bit of your roots. I doubt if an untrained eye would notice, but mystery shoppers have to be alert to details."

"I was due for a touch-up last Monday," Lenore said, as if she'd missed an appointment with a parole officer.

"Would you like to see my stylist?" Josie said. "I don't have my hair colored, but I hear Donna is good."

"Here? In St. Louis?" Lenore looked horrified. "I can't go to someone in the middle of nowhere."

"Donna works at the Cheap Chic salon, but she was in New York."

"So was my cook," Lenore said. "Do you have a Frederic Fekkai salon here?"

"No," Josie said.

"What about Dino Laudati? Oribe?"

Josie shook her head. "What's Oribe?" she asked.

"This city is hopeless." Lenore fished a mirror out of her Chanel bag and studied her hair. "But you're correct. My roots are almost an eighth of an inch long. Wait here, Josie. I need to make some calls."

She hurried into the hall like her skirt was on fire. Lenore returned five minutes later, a changed woman. Now she was smiling, calm, and in control. "Josie, dear," she said, "would you mind terribly if I abandoned you? I must leave for home immediately."

"Can I drive you to the airport?" Josie asked.

"No, my attorney's limo will collect me in half an hour. He flies out at noon and there's room on our plane. He'll drop me at my salon."

It worked! Josie thought, and sipped more coffee to hide her relief. This time she really did savor the chocolatey taste.

"There is one problem," Lenore said.

Uh-oh, Josie thought. I'm celebrating too soon.

"If I leave today, I can't return until the morning of the rehearsal dinner," Lenore said. "I lost weight when I stayed at"-there was a delicate pause-"the other place. They served bologna sandwiches."

"Oh dear," Josie said, trying to sound sympathetic.

"I couldn't eat that rubbish," Lenore said. "I'll need to have my dress fitted. I may even need new foundation garments. And of course I'll have to look after my husband. Do you think you can finish planning your wedding on your own?"

"I'll try," Josie said, fighting to keep the glee out of her voice.

Lenore signaled for the check, signed it, then said, "Please finish your coffee. I have to pack and settle my bill."

"I'd love to," Josie said, "but I have things to do. I should go."

"I feel guilty leaving you with so much work," Lenore said.

"Don't worry. I'll manage," Josie said.

The sun was smiling when the valet brought Josie's car. She took that as a good omen.

By the time she reached home, it was raining again. A drenched UPS driver delivered the first wedding presents from Tiffany. Josie didn't recognize the names on the gift cards. Dr. George and Aunt Bitsy sent the stunning Limoges platter. Two other couples, Bunny and Bea and Van and Blair, both gave sterling silver picture frames.

The three gifts totaled more than thirty-five hundred dollars. Their generosity deserved warm, personal thank-you notes, but Josie needed more information about them. Ted would know. She left a message at the clinic.

Ted called back ten minutes later, his voice warming her on the chilly morning. "Josie, how did the breakfast with Mom go?" he asked.

"We had a nice chat. Lenore is flying back home with her lawyer this morning."

"She's worried about my stepdad," Ted said.

Josie decided it would be petty to tell him Lenore's real reason was all in her head. "We got our first wedding presents," she said. "Three gorgeous gifts from Tiffany. Do you know a Dr. George and Aunt Bitsy?"

"They're my G.o.dparents," Ted said.

Josie could hear his smile. They were obvious favorites.

"They sent a fabulous Limoges platter worth more than my car."

"What do we serve on that?" Ted asked.

"Nothing, I hope," Josie said. "I registered at Tiffany because your mother asked me to. I'm grateful for your G.o.dparents' generosity, but I have another use for their gift."

"Name it," Ted said.

"We won't be displaying china in a house full of rambunctious pets," she said. "Wedding registry gifts can only be returned for store credit. But we could stash the platter in a safe-deposit box as part of Amelia's college fund. When she needs money, I'll sell it on eBay. If Dr. George and Aunt Bitsy visit us before that, you can whip up a dinner and serve it on their platter."

"I doubt they will," Ted said. "They're eighty-something and rarely leave Palm Beach County."

"There's more. Are Bunny and Bea a gay couple?" Josie asked.

Ted laughed. "They'd be shocked speechless. Bunny is a man's nickname in Mom's circle. Beatrice is his wife. B and B, she calls them. They play bridge with Mom and my stepdad, my G.o.dparents, and Van and Blair. Blair is Van's wife."

"B and B and Van and Blair both gave us Tiffany picture frames."

Arf!

"Keep those, will you?" Ted said.

Yap! Yap! Merrrrorow!

"Things going okay at the clinic today?" she asked.

"Better than okay," Ted said. "I found a home for Sammy, the old dachshund whose owner went into a.s.sisted living."

"Did you offer any incentives?" Josie asked.

"Just free lifetime vet care," Ted said. "Sammy's fourteen. It wasn't much of an offer."

Woof!

"Gotta go," Ted said. "My patients are getting impatient."

"I love you," Josie said over the clinic's chorus of arfs, yaps, and meows.

She wrote thank-you notes while the rain came down in sheets. It was still pouring when she picked up Amelia at school. Josie's daughter dumped her backpack in the backseat and jumped in the car, water dripping off her yellow hoodie.

Amelia was silent after she said h.e.l.lo. Josie tried to read her silence. It didn't seem brooding or angry. Josie hoped Amelia wouldn't spring one of her awkward questions.

They were almost to the highway when Amelia asked, "Mom, can we have pizza for dinner tonight? I can call Big Dave the pizza dude now."

"Wait till we're home in case we get hung up in traffic," Josie said, "or Big Dave will get there before we do. Why don't you make your own pizza? Yours would probably taste better."

"I like talking to Big Dave," she said. "And pizza that comes in a box tastes better."

"Must be the cardboard," Josie said.

Josie and Amelia spent a quiet evening. "Grandma and I are going to Alyce's early tomorrow," Amelia said. "She's going to show me how she makes the phyllo purses with real caviar. I've never had caviar. Or champagne. Can I have some for the toast?"

"Just a thimbleful," Josie said, and kissed her daughter good night.

Josie woke up to more rain. She was still dreading the bridal shower, and didn't want to go out into the slas.h.i.+ng storm.

Once she was inside Alyce's house, Josie's mood lightened. Alyce's white living room managed to look inviting. Bowls and vases of pink, white, and red roses warmed the pale room. A fire crackled and candles glowed.

Josie was engulfed with hugs and congratulations, and given a flute of champagne. Josie was touched by how many people showed up, including many of her mother's church friends. Laura Lavinia Hayes, Josie's former teacher who managed a lingerie shop, was there, too. "I couldn't be happier for you," Laura said. "I'm so grateful you helped me with that problem at my store. I haven't seen you in ages."

Alyce's Wood Winds neighbors cl.u.s.tered in one corner. Connie, the food bank committeewoman, told Josie, "We can't thank you enough for getting that horrible Emily arrested. She nearly destroyed our committee and our hands were tied."

Amelia took her on a tour of the buffet table. "You have to eat a phyllo purse," she said, using the silver tongs to place one on Josie's plate.

"Alyce used American farm-raised caviar," Amelia said. "It's not cool to eat Russian caviar."

"How do you know this?" Josie asked.

"All the good chefs know it," Amelia said.

Josie wasn't sure if she meant herself or Alyce. She took a small forkful of the purse, then a larger one.

"What do you think?" Amelia asked.

"Perfect," Josie said. "The salty caviar accents the creamy mushroom filling."