An Uplifting Murder (23 page)

“Al! Do you have a blonde in her twenties on your route?” Josie asked. “Long straight platinum hair, blue eyes, white skin, black wheelchair.”

“Oh, you mean Blond Babe,” Big Al said. “Gorgeous hair, great legs. Lives in the house with the purple shutters.”

“And uses a wheelchair,” Josie finished.

“No, she doesn’t,” Big Al said. “People with wheelchairs have ramps, not steps.”

“There must be some mistake,” Josie said.

“I don’t think so,” Al said. “She orders two large sausage-and-green-pepper pizzas every weekend, and tips me five. She lives next to One Buck Chuck. He’s a thin older man who lives in a two-story charcoal gray house on Palmer Avenue. On the other side is Busy Mom. She’s thin, too, from running after four kids. Her white house has a wide front porch. She tips five to eight dollars.”

“Are you sure about Blond Babe?” Josie asked.

“Positive, ma’am. That long hair is hard to forget.”

“But you must have a lot of blondes on your route.”

“Not with white-blond hair,” Big Al said. “One Buck Chuck is bald. Busy Mom is a brunette. I have some gray-haired and white-haired customers, a redhead who gives me a lot of green, and two blondes with hair that’s a weird yellow. But Blond Babe is my only regular with long, straight hair. She’s hard to forget.”

“What’s her real name and address?”

“Sorry.” Big Al looked down at his shoes. “I can’t say. Against company policy. I have to go. More pizzas to deliver.”

Josie paid for the pizza and tipped him a five.

“One more thing,” Big Al said. “Pizza delivery drivers know the neighborhood streets better than anyone, except maybe the cops. If you’re ever lost, stop at our pizza stores. We’ll help you find where you want to go with our big map. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

But you were, Josie thought. Only one house on Palmer Avenue has purple shutters and sits between a gray house and a white one with a big porch.

I’ve found the mystery woman.

Chapter 24

The mystery woman lived two blocks from Josie’s flat. She could picture the house with the purple shutters in her mind. She wanted to see it with her eyes. After Josie dropped Amelia off at school for her field trip, she drove down Palmer Avenue.

There it was.

“Yes!” Josie yelled, alone in her car. The tall, skinny house with the deep purple shutters looked like it was bruised. It was hunched between a charcoal gray home with a red door and a sprawling white house with an elegant jigsaw Gothic porch.

Josie didn’t see any cars in the driveway of the purple shutters house. She parked her Honda at the curb, then walked up fourteen steps to the front porch. Steep steps led to the side entrance. There were no ramps. If this really was Kelsey’s home, she definitely didn’t use a wheelchair.

Josie knocked on the purple front door. No answer.

She knocked harder until the door glass rattled. Silence.

A bald, older man ambled out of the gray house next door. He wore a barn jacket. One Buck Chuck, Josie thought. Chuck wore slippers in the snow. He must have been eager for gossip.

“Good morning,” he said. “You looking for Victoria?”

So that’s her name, Josie thought.

“You must be Charles,” she said.

“My friends call me Chuck.”

So does Big Al, Josie thought. If you only tip him a dollar to run up those stairs with a pizza, I doubt that he considers you a friend.

Chuck moved closer to the porch for a chat.

“Is Victoria home?” Josie asked. “I’m trying to find her.”

“She just left,” Chuck said. “She’ll be back about two o’clock. She’s home by that time most days.”

“Is that when she gets off work?” Josie knew that was a risky question, but decided to chance it. Chuck seemed like a talker who might volunteer useful information.

“I think so,” Chuck said. “Don’t know what she does exactly, but Victoria brings home plenty of shopping bags from the fancy malls. She must be some kind of model. She’s certainly pretty enough. Are you one of her shopping-party friends?”

Josie hesitated and Chuck obligingly filled in the blanks. “Victoria is a real bargain hunter. She holds shopping parties. Victoria mixes a bunch of margaritas and a lot of young women come over and buy her clothes. She keeps them in her living room.”

“You’ve seen the clothes?” Josie asked.

“I can’t see in the windows,” Chuck said. “But we have a new letter carrier and he gets the mail mixed up. I took her light bill over the other afternoon. She must be getting ready for another sale. She had sweaters and scarves sitting on a couch and a rack of new-looking dresses.

“Her sales are by invitation only. They attract gorgeous women. I can hear them giggling from my upstairs window. I never complain. An old geezer like me couldn’t ask for a more interesting neighbor.”

Victoria is definitely interesting, Josie thought. I have an idea how she hunts those bargains.

Chuck was still chattering. “She has her sale parties once or twice a month.”

“That’s what I wanted to ask her about,” Josie said.

“I see lots of happy ladies leaving her house afterward, and not because of the margaritas,” Chuck said. He looked at ease, prepared to gab the morning away.

If I don’t get back into my heated car, I’ll be as purple as Victoria’s shutters, Josie thought. “Nice talking to you. I’ll come back after two,” she said.

“No problem,” Chuck said. “If you see a yellow Miata in the drive, you’ll know Victoria is home.”

On the short drive back to her flat, Josie fretted about the enforced wait until after two o’clock. That meant another day in jail for Laura, who needed to be with her pregnant daughter.

Josie was almost grateful when Harry the Horrible called with a last-minute mystery-shopping assignment.

“I need you to shop another Veggie Madness,” he said. “This time, it’s the restaurant in Chesterfield.”

Josie bit back a snarky remark about more vegetables. Too many stores and restaurants were going out of business. Too many companies were cutting back on mystery shoppers. Josie couldn’t afford to turn down a job. She’d eat lettuce to make lettuce.

“Same food as last time?”

“New choices,” Harry said. “Today Veggie Madness wants you to try the Looney for Lettuce salad and the Go Bananas nut bread. You can bring a guest, a female between thirty and thirty-five. Veggie Madness wants you to look for food freshness and restaurant cleanliness.”

At one fifteen, Josie and Alyce were in the Veggie Madness in Chesterfield, a well-heeled western suburb of St. Louis. The restaurant was packed with expensively dressed women grazing on greens.

Alyce savored a bowl of Crazy for Cauliflower soup. Josie picked at her Looney for Lettuce salad, using her fork to pull a thin purple strip out of the ranch dressing.

“The shutters on Victoria’s house are the same color as this lettuce,” she said.

“That’s cabbage,” Alyce said. “You can’t get Victoria out of your mind, can you?”

“She’s the killer,” Josie said. “I know it. She lied to us. Why else would she give false information? She’s not disabled if she lives in that house. She’s big and strong enough to surprise Frankie and kill her.

“I know how she did it, too. Victoria wheeled herself into the restroom, got out of her chair, surprised Frankie, pushed her into the handicapped stall, and smothered her with the plastic bag. Then Victoria left her body in the locked stall and crawled out. When we blundered in, Victoria jumped into her wheelchair, played the poor little cripple, and escaped.”

“What about the large woman in the black-and-white scarf?” Alyce said. “The one on the mall security tape?”

“She’s just someone who had to use the bathroom,” Josie said. “She wasn’t wearing an unusual scarf. You saw the pile on the sale table at DDD. Anyone could buy one. There’s nothing on the tape that shows the scarf lady killed Frankie.”

“Why would Victoria want her dead?”

“Everyone wanted to kill Frankie,” Josie said.

“So when do we meet this murderer?” Alyce asked.

“Her neighbor Chuck says she’s usually home after two,” Josie said. “Amelia’s on a field trip today, and then she’s going to Plaza Venetia with her friends, so I don’t have to pick her up at school.”

Alyce checked her watch. “We’d better get moving if we’re going to meet Victoria. I’m going with you.”

“We?” Josie said.

“Don’t even think of confronting that killer alone, Josie Marcus. I know you want to help Laura because of her daughter, but you need to think of your own child.”

“All right,” Josie said. “We’ll go together. I’ve nearly finished my banana-nut bread.”

“We’ll use my car,” Alyce said. “You live too close to her house. You don’t want her finding out you live two blocks away.”

By two thirty, Alyce was cruising down Palmer Avenue. Josie saw a yellow Miata parked in Victoria’s driveway.

“Nice car for a killer,” Alyce said. “She has style.”

“Let’s go catch her,” Josie said. “Laura needs to get out of jail.”

They marched up the stairs together. Josie knocked on the door. They heard footsteps inside on the hardwood floor. The door swung open and there stood Victoria, straight and sturdy. She was tall—about the same height as Laura Ferguson—but slimmer than Josie remembered. When she’d been in the wheelchair wearing her dark coat, she’d had a matronly figure. Josie, who’d spent many hours in malls, had an idea what had bulked up Victoria.

No wonder One Buck Chuck liked watching her, Josie thought. With that platinum hair and vampire-pale skin, Victoria was stunning. She could have been a model.

Victoria’s wide blue eyes studied Josie and Alyce. She did not seem to recognize them.

“May I help you ladies?”

Josie took a step forward, crowding Victoria on her doorstep. “Yes, I want to know about your miraculous recovery.”

“My what?” Victoria still looked clueless.

“The last time Alyce and I saw you, you were in a wheelchair. Now look at you, so tall and healthy. It’s amazing.”

Victoria’s mouth gaped.

“You must remember us,” Alyce said, inching closer. “You were in the Plaza Venetia bathroom. Josie crawled under the stall to unlock it for you and found a dead woman. You gave us your contact information.”

“Fake information,” Josie said. She pushed her way into the wide foyer. Alyce followed. Victoria didn’t try to block their way. She seemed rooted to the rug.

Inside, Josie caught a glimpse of a living room sofa piled with fluffy sweaters like gathering clouds. A rainbow of dresses and blouses hung on a plain metal rack. A flurry of white tags dangled from the clothes. Now Josie was sure what Victoria did every day.

“The Venetia Park police are looking for you,” Josie said. “You’re a person of interest in a murder. We have to tell them where to find you, so an innocent woman can get out of jail.”

“It’s our duty,” Alyce said.

“I’m sure the cops will be interested in your living room,” Josie said. “Those cashmere sweaters piled on your sofa cost a fortune. If you buy them.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Victoria said in a raven’s croak.

“Then what were you doing in that restroom?” Josie said, her voice harder. “Where is the new red gown Frankie was carrying?”

Victoria turned even paler, if possible. “I—” She stopped.