An Uplifting Murder (13 page)

Josie staggered down the hall to the reception desk. She could practically feel her jowls swinging as she walked.

Shannon, the sweet, shy, stacked receptionist, said, “That will be two hundred dollars, please.”

Josie numbly wrote a check, still staring at the receptionist. She’d seen Shannon before. She knew it. Where?

Josie shivered on her way to the parking lot. She’d wasted her time and spent a lot of money for nothing. No, wait. The visit wasn’t a total loss. The new widower was seeing patients when his Frankie Angel had been murdered days ago. He didn’t have any photos of his wife in his office. He hadn’t bothered closing his practice.

Dr. Tino Martin was not overcome with grief.

Chapter 13

“I did it my way,” Alex Failoni Jr. crooned. If I close my eyes, Josie thought, it sounds like Ol’ Blue Eyes himself is in this neighborhood restaurant.

Josie liked the way Alex sang “My Way” in Failoni’s. Sinatra’s signature song had been mangled too often in karaoke bars. Alex Failoni didn’t draw out the last phrase with inflated emotion or fill it with ersatz drama.

Many restaurant patrons thought Alex could have a career as a full-time entertainer, but Alex seemed as proud of his pizza as he was of his music. Maybe prouder.

The star of Failoni’s Restaurant was as skinny as a young Sinatra. His fans were almost as fanatical in their subdued way. St. Louisans did not go for public displays of emotion, except when the Cardinals were in the play-offs.

Josie thought the audience was part of the show at Failoni’s. She liked watching them. Some of the older women could have been bobby-soxers swooning for the teen-heartthrob Sinatra. Some of the couples could have applauded the mature Sinatra on one of his many farewell tours. Some young men in the restaurant dressed like Rat Packers in narrow ties and skinny-brimmed hats.

Many customers enjoyed Alex’s singing—and Failoni’s food. The restaurant was one of St. Louis’s hidden gems.

Josie applauded as the song ended. Ted took his arm from around her shoulder to join in the clapping. Josie admired her date’s rugged good looks. Tonight Ted had traded his green veterinarian scrubs for khakis and a blue cotton shirt. He still had that outrageously noble chin and deep brown eyes. They were eyes a woman could get lost in. Josie had been lost for months.

“Would you like coffee or dessert?” Ted asked.

Just you, Josie thought. We only have tonight and then I turn into a responsible mom again.

“No, thanks,” she said. “The rosemary chicken was delicious.”

Ted signaled for the check. Josie watched the other women in the restaurant eyeing him and thought, He’s mine.

“You seem distracted,” Ted said. “Is something wrong?”

“Do you think I need a face-lift?” Josie asked.

“A what!”

Josie was gratified by his surprise. She could hear it wasn’t faked.

“What moron said you had wrinkles?” Ted said.

“Dr. Hugo Agustino Martin,” Josie said. “He’s a plastic surgeon.”

“He’s an idiot,” Ted said. “Why were you seeing a plastic surgeon? You don’t need one.”

“Dr. Tino is the husband of Frankie, my former classmate.”

“Oh, right. The murdered woman,” Ted said. “You discovered her body in the mall bathroom. Do you still believe your ex-teacher is innocent?”

“I know Laura Ferguson is innocent,” Josie said. “The police arrested the wrong woman. I’ve heard the husband is supposed to be the main suspect when a wife is murdered. They didn’t arrest Dr. Tino. I wanted to know why.”

“Was Frankie killed during his office hours?” Dr. Ted asked.

“Between eleven twelve and eleven thirty in the morning,” Josie said. “How did you know?”

“I see patients, too,” Ted said. “Mine have fur or feathers, but their appointments are all in the clinic computer. Dr. Tino’s appointments give him an airtight alibi. The police may have checked the times, interviewed his staff and patients, and concluded he wasn’t guilty.”

“Oh,” Josie said. She could have saved two hundred dollars if she’d thought. At least she’d verified that Dr. Tino and Shannon couldn’t have killed Frankie.

“The killer has to be someone besides Laura Ferguson,” she said. “I just need to find her.”

“Before you suspected Frankie’s husband murdered his wife. Now you’re calling the killer a ‘her.’ Are you sure about the gender?” Ted said.

“Frankie was found dead in a women’s restroom in the mall,” Josie said. “There’s a mall video showing a large woman in a dark coat and head scarf entering just after Frankie did. The head-scarf woman came out. Frankie never did, except dead.”

“I saw that video on television,” Ted said. “The killer looks like a large woman.”

“That describes Laura,” Josie said. “But it could fit many women. The police arrested the wrong person.” She reached into her purse and said, “Here’s my share for dinner.”

“Put that away,” Ted said. “This is my treat.”

Josie was secretly relieved. She was going to be short of cash for a while after her visit to Dr. Tino and her splurge for Amelia’s first bra. She enjoyed dating a man who wasn’t a nickel squeezer.

“Shall we go?” Ted whispered in her ear. “My place?”

“Definitely,” Josie said. “Amelia is staying with Mom tonight. That’s one less worry.”

They left the warm restaurant, stepping into the cold night. Josie carefully picked her way along the shoveled walk. The air was crisp and the black sky looked velvety. They could see their breath. Failoni’s had been a Dogtown neighborhood institution for more than seventy-five years. An ancient sign on the brick building proclaiming Failoni’s “air-conditioned” was from the days when that was a luxury. New awnings said the owners kept the restaurant updated.

“Is she a worry?” Ted said. “She seems so smart and together.”

“She is,” Josie said. “She’s always been good. You’re awfully patient with her.”

“I like kids,” Ted said. “Your daughter is smart, curious, and funny. She makes me see things in a whole new way—like her mother. I’m not good with babies. They leak at both ends.”

Josie laughed. “You deal with leaky pups and kittens all day,” she said.

“I know,” Ted said. “But babies make me feel helpless. Once kids can talk, I’m fine. And your Amelia has a lot to say.”

A man who likes children, but not babies, Josie thought dreamily. He’s too perfect. I don’t want another baby, but I enjoy watching my daughter grow up. He seems to appreciate her, too.

“What’s your plan to help Laura?” Ted asked.

He’s taking me seriously, Josie thought, and held on to his arm tighter. “If we rule out her husband as a suspect,” she said, “I want to talk to the people who were in the store right before Frankie was murdered. There are two other store employees, plus a man named Cody John Wayne.”

“What was a guy doing in a bra shop?” Ted asked.

“Picking up his wife’s alterations,” Josie said.

“He’s a brave man to go in there alone,” Ted said.

“Actually, he is brave. Alyce said he was a decorated hero. He was shot saving a couple who’d been carjacked.”

Josie felt uneasy as they walked toward Ted’s 1968 Mustang, parked on the street. This stretch of Manchester Road was mostly empty. On Failoni’s side were small businesses closed for the night. Across the street was a struggling shopping center with a moonscape of deserted asphalt. Josie slid on a small patch of snow and Ted drew her closer. Josie didn’t mind at all.

“Who else was in the shop besides the hero?” Ted asked.

“There was a woman who appeared in the doorway of the shop for a moment,” Josie said. “She was too shy to get fitted. There’s no way to track her down. In the mall restroom, Alyce and I talked to a blonde. I crawled under the handicapped stall to unlock the door for her. That’s how I discovered Frankie’s body. The blonde said her name was Kelsey. She gave us a bad address and phone number, then disappeared before the cops showed up.”

“Every mystery needs a disappearing blonde,” Ted said.

“This one was in a wheelchair,” Josie said.

“That makes her more mysterious,” Ted said.

“Unless I can look up handicapped plates in a DMV database, I don’t know how I’ll find her,” Josie said.

“She might not have driven herself to the shopping center,” Ted said. “You’ll probably have to write her off as lost. This is where the police have the advantage. You don’t have the resources to look for her.”

“I’m down to Cody the hero and the saleswomen, Rosa and Trish,” Josie said. “I want to start with Rosa. I’m guessing she’ll be at Desiree Lingerie most days now that Laura is in jail. But I’d like to do some research first. Her family has a restaurant off Cherokee Street, El Loco Burro. Would you like to go to lunch there tomorrow? My treat?”

“I never turn down a free lunch,” Ted said, “but why do you want to see her family’s restaurant?”

“I want to get a feel for her family. I might even see her working there. People act differently around their families.”

“You’re on,” Ted said. “I have tomorrow off at the clinic. My partner, Chris, has emergency duty this weekend.”

A trio of lean dogs trotted across Manchester toward them. Even from a distance, the animals looked starved. The smallest one was missing a back leg.

Ted froze. “Don’t move,” he said to Josie in a low voice. “They may be a pack of feral dogs.”

He reached in his pocket.

“What are you going to do?” Josie asked. “Shoot them?”

“Yes,” he said. “If I have to.”

The dogs glanced Ted and Josie’s way, then trotted off in the other direction, toward the nearly empty shopping center.

Ted relaxed. “Fortunately, most feral dogs are afraid of humans.” He pulled out the cylinder and handed it to her. “Dog repellent. Mail carriers use it. Here, take this one.”

“What is it made of?” Josie asked. “Is it poison?”

“It’s mostly pepper spray,” he said. “I hope you never get close enough to a dangerous dog that you have to use it. If you think you’re going to be attacked by a dog, the best thing is to freeze. If the dog charges you, spray it with this. The drawback is you have to aim for the dog’s face. Go for the nose. Dog noses are extremely sensitive.”

“Do I really need dog repellent?” Josie said. “We don’t have wild dogs in Maplewood.”

“Feral dogs are everywhere, in every city. I’m sorry to say the feral-dog situation is getting worse. More people can’t afford to care for their dogs. The kind ones take the dogs to animal shelters. The bad owners turn the dogs loose. The poor animals soon die of disease and starvation. House pets don’t survive long in the wild.”

“That’s so sad,” Josie said.

“It is,” Ted said. “I have an abandoned dog at the clinic now. His owner brought him in for a broken leg, then refused to take him home. I offered to forgive the debt, but the guy said he couldn’t afford to feed his pet. Stuart Little is healed now. He needs a good home.”

“He named a dog for the mouse in a children’s tale?” Josie asked.

“I don’t know where the name came from. But Stuart Little is a shih tzu. He’s a sweet animal. I can’t take on another dog. I spend too much time in the mobile clinic.”

“Harry would never tolerate a canine rival.”

“Cats and dogs do get along, you know,” Ted said.

“I had a tough enough time getting Mom to accept Harry,” Josie said. “A dog might send her over the edge. She’s not a dog person.”

“If she saw Stuart Little, she couldn’t resist,” Ted said. “He needs a home. There are so many good dogs and so few places for them.”