An Uplifting Murder (33 page)

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Authors: Elaine Viets

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #Amateur Sleuth, #General

BOOK: An Uplifting Murder
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“Let’s go to the police,” Ted said.

 

“No. The police were sure the killer was Laura Ferguson. They looked at the video, saw Laura had the same scarf, and thought she had a motive to murder Frankie.”

 

“Josie, I’m not saying the Venetia Park police are right, but you can’t fault them on that. Laura had a very good reason to kill Frankie.”

 

“No, she didn’t. Her daughter is pregnant and sick,” Josie said. “Laura wants to be with Kate. She wouldn’t let anything jeopardize that. Victoria has no children, no husband, and she could lose everything if she’s caught shoplifting. The Venetia Park police still haven’t found Victoria. They didn’t suspect her. They’ve already arrested Laura and she’s going on trial. Do you think they’ll risk their case when this quick arrest makes them look good?”

 

“How good will they look when Laura goes free?” Ted asked.

 

“Even Renzo, Laura’s own lawyer, is giving her the ‘juries are unpredictable’ speech. Laura thinks he’s not sure, either.” Josie leaned her head on Ted’s shoulder. It felt good. She enjoyed talking with Ted. He was so reasonable, so concerned. He didn’t try to bully her.

 

“Suppose you’re right, Josie, and Victoria’s the killer,” Ted said. “If she murdered Frankie, she can kill you, too.”

 

“She surprised Frankie. I’ll be on guard. Victoria won’t hurt me, not with her nosy neighbor Chuck looking in the windows. She’s not stupid. I’ll get the information I need, run out of her house, and call the cops. Then the police will set an innocent Laura free. And she can be with her pregnant daughter, who needs her.”

 

Josie smiled, her happy ending neatly tied with pink ribbons.

 

Chapter 35

 

“Wake up, Ted. We’re late,” Josie said. “We have to take Amelia to school.”

 

“Huh?” Ted, bleary-eyed and bristly-bearded, sat up on the couch and nearly knocked over his coffee cup. “What time is it?”

 

“Time to leave. Past time. We should have left five minutes ago. I’ll call Mom and see if Amelia’s ready.”

 

Ted sprinted for Amelia’s bathroom while Josie called her mother. Jane answered the phone. “Amelia’s finishing her toast. We’d still be asleep if Stuart Little hadn’t awakened me demanding breakfast.”

 

“We overslept, too,” Josie said. “The house must be under a spell. Send Amelia straight to Ted’s car. We’ll be right out.” She ran to her bedroom and threw on her clothes.

 

“I’m almost ready,” Ted called from the bathroom.

 

“I’m putting on my coat,” Josie called back.

 

She heard Amelia’s feet pounding down the stairs, then her footsteps crunching across the snow. There was silence. Then Amelia galloped back up the front porch and slammed through the front door.

 

“Mom!” Josie heard her daughter’s distress. “Something’s wrong with your car. The locks are frozen. Somebody turned your car into a snow cone.”

 

“A what?” Josie fell over her purse on the living room floor.

 

“Come see.” Amelia tugged on her mother’s hand.

 

“Let me get my hat,” Josie said. “Where is it?”

 

“Your hat’s on a kitchen chair. Harry’s sleeping on it.”

 

“Perfect,” Josie said. The cat had made himself a warm nest in her knit hat. He grumbled when she moved him to the floor. Josie’s hat bristled with Harry’s wiry hairs. She didn’t have time to pick them off. She slapped the hat on her new, chic hair and ran outside.

 

A cold, bright sun shone down on Josie’s car. The battered vehicle glittered, locked inside at least two inches of ice.

 

Icicles dripped from the bumpers. The doors were frozen shut. Even if she could break the ice on them, the locks were frozen. The windshield wipers would have to be chipped out of their ice prison. The tires were frozen to the street.

 

“That rotten old woman,” Josie whispered.

 

“Who?” Amelia said.

 

“Mrs. Mueller. She did this to get even with me.”

 

“Hate to say this, but I don’t think so,” Amelia said. “Follow the shoe prints.” She pointed to their snowy lawn. A second V overlaid the first one from yesterday. This time, the prints didn’t stop at the pile of snow that had fallen off the roof. They continued over the fallen snow heap to the edge of the house.

 

Josie walked alongside the footprints. Someone had walked—no, tiptoed, from the shape of the prints—up to Amelia’s window. The trespasser hadn’t been after Amelia, but the hose and water tap beneath her window. Josie saw a full set of shoe prints by the tap.

 

“Looks like the person turned on the hose and sprayed the car,” Amelia said. “You can see the squiggly hose marks on the lawn, like a long, skinny snake. Look at the tracks on the other side of the V. Those prints don’t go near Mrs. Mueller’s house. They run off in the other direction. Mrs. Mueller’s prints are at the edge of the yard, where she yelled at us. They’re bigger than these and her boot sole is different. Go look.”

 

Josie did. Amelia was right. Mrs. Mueller’s boot print was at least a size larger and her boot sole had a waffle pattern. Josie couldn’t blame the vandalism on Mrs. Mueller, no matter how much she disliked the woman.

 

“Mom, we’re late,” Amelia said. “It’s cold. We can’t wait for your car to melt. Ted can drive me. His car didn’t get iced. He’s parked around the corner.”

 

Josie could see the Mustang’s tangerine tail. “You wait by his car,” Josie said. “I’ll go get Ted’s keys and warm up the car. Don’t mention my car, or you’ll be even later for school.”

 

“But, Mom,” Amelia said.

 

“I’ll tell Ted about it later,” Josie said. “We have to get you to school right now. If you’re late, you’ll have to deal with Mrs. Apple by yourself. Do you want that?”

 

“No,” Amelia said.

 

Josie guessed that her daughter would rather avoid the formidable Barrington School principal. Josie suspected Ted would insist on going to Victoria’s house for a direct confrontation. She would learn more if she saw Victoria by herself—with Chuck hovering in the background as the unknowing chaperone.

 

Josie’s front door slammed shut. Ted ran toward them, keys in hand. Josie gave her daughter a last warning. “Remember, Amelia. My car is my business. Not a word to Ted about what you saw on the way to school.”

 

Ted swiftly navigated the back roads to Barrington, avoiding the major traffic jams, and pulled into the school’s circular drive as the bell rang. Amelia jumped out and waved good-bye.

 

The return trip to Josie’s house was equally fast, but not as frantic. They had pulled in front of the house when Ted’s cell phone barked. He parked, listened, then said, “I’ll be right there. Think he’ll make it?”

 

“What’s wrong?” Josie asked.

 

“A pug named Max tried to catch a UPS truck. The truck ran over the little guy. I have to help Chris with the surgery on his hip. Do you want to come with me to the clinic? You’ll be home alone.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Josie said. “You’ve made sure Amelia is safe at school and that’s my big worry. Go save Max.”

 

Ted kissed her absently and drove off. He was too preoccupied to notice Josie’s car sparkling at the curb like a four-wheeled zircon. Josie saw a single blind slat lift at Mrs. Mueller’s, then drop quickly. The old woman must be dying of curiosity about Josie’s carsicle.

 

Josie examined her car closely, looking for a crack in the ice. She took off her glove and tried to pry a frozen chunk off the door handle. She broke a nail.

 

She was stuck, just like her ride. Her car wasn’t moving until the next thaw. In St. Louis’s capricious weather, that could be tomorrow or two months. Either way, Josie was without a ride.

 

This day just gets better, Josie thought, shivering beside her ice-encrusted car. Her mother’s door opened and Jane marched down the sidewalk in short, angry strides. Her outfit would have scandalized Mrs. Mueller, if the two women had been on speaking terms. Josie bit her lip to keep from laughing at the spectacle of her mother in an old red winter coat, a pink-flowered flannel gown with a ruffle on the hem, and brown fleece-lined boots.

 

“Not sure the boots go with the gown,” Josie said. As soon as the words slipped out, she regretted them.

 

Jane was in no mood for jokes. “Josie Marcus, how many times have I told you to put that hose away in the garage?”

 

“Mom, I’m sorry. This is my fault. You’re right.”

 

Jane seemed somewhat soothed by Josie’s admission of guilt. “Is your car damaged?”

 

“Not that I can see. But unless there’s a sudden warming trend, I can’t drive it.”

 

“Then call that police officer, Doris What’s-Her-Name. I fell back asleep after Amelia ran downstairs.”

 

“Good. You need your sleep,” Josie said. “There’s too much going on. You tire easily.”

 

“No I don’t,” Jane said. “I’m fine, thank you. Are you sure You Know Who didn’t do this?” Jane wouldn’t even say Mrs. Mueller’s name.

 

“No,” Josie said. “The culprit has smaller feet.”

 

“Figures,” Jane said, and snorted. “I’d better get dressed.”

 

Josie trudged inside and made herself a cup of coffee, then called Officer Doris Ann Norris’s cell.

 

“My car’s been vandalized,” Josie told her. “Someone froze it.”

 

“That’s a new one. I’ll be right there.”

 

In the time it took Officer Norris to arrive, Josie wondered who’d turned her car into a block of ice. Was it Rosa or Trish from the lingerie store? Did they even know where she lived? Josie didn’t think so. Mrs. Mueller literally hadn’t set foot on their lawn.

 

That left—ah! The double liar who lived in the house with purple shutters. When Victoria wasn’t icing her enemies, she iced Josie’s car.

 

Officer Doris Ann Norris didn’t bother to hide her smirk when she examined Josie’s car. “I can charge whoever did this with vandalism, if we can ever catch them,” she said. “But I don’t think we will. Looks like a kids’ prank to me.”

 

“Why don’t kids put burning bags of dog doo on porches, like they used to?” Josie asked.

 

“Is that what started the trouble with your next-door neighbor?” Officer Norris eyed Josie shrewdly.

 

Josie blushed. “Well, it didn’t help,” she said. “But she snitched on me first. She told Mom that I—” She stopped. She was a grown woman with a child, seething over an ancient grudge with a silly woman.

 

“I sound ten years old, don’t I?” Josie asked, and managed a grin.

 

“Maybe a mature nine,” Officer Norris said. “If you locate the vandal and you have proof that person iced your car, call me.”

 

Josie left her frozen car to check the snow tracks on her lawn. She studied the double V of shoe prints. They were smaller than Mrs. Mueller’s. And they had a pattern of intersecting curves. Victoria could have made those last night. If so, she’d leave boot prints on her own lawn. Josie could go over there now and check. Then she’d have her.

 

Revenge was a dish that tasted best cold.

 

Victoria would feel like she was buried under ice when Josie finished with her.

 

Chapter 36

 

Josie’s breath came out in steam puffs as she powered along the shoveled sidewalk. For all she knew, steam was coming out of her head—or even flames. Never mind that the temperature was five degrees. Josie didn’t feel the cold. She was hot with rage.

 

Officer Doris Ann Norris had finally left, still smirking over Josie’s frozen car.

 

It was 10:20 in the morning and Josie was ready for the first phase of her attack. She was certain Victoria had killed Frankie. Then, when Josie got close, she’d thrown blood on her car and iced it. Her vicious murder had put an innocent woman in jail. Her petty acts of revenge had uprooted Josie’s peaceful life. Ted had to sleep on her couch as a bodyguard. Amelia was banished upstairs to her grandmother’s home for her safety.

 

Josie felt like a fool. She’d believed Victoria. She really thought the woman had a sick mother and tried to help. She’d been conned. Josie wouldn’t fall for another of Victoria’s sob stories.

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