An Uplifting Murder (36 page)

Officer Norris knocked firmly on the door. “The officer wants to talk to you,” Josie said, stuck on the inside doormat like a pair of old boots.

“I’ll let her in,” Victoria said. A mean smile distorted her pretty face. “I have no reason to fear the police.” She threw open the door. “Welcome.”

“Are you inviting me in?” Officer Norris said.

“I have nothing to hide,” Victoria said. “Josie seems to think I’ve stolen the clothes that I collected for a charity. The truth is that my friends and I donate them to an organization for poor young women who want to look professional for job interviews.” She modestly aimed her eyes at the floor, refusing to take credit for her good deed.

She said “the truth is,” Josie thought. Liars love those three words.

Victoria was still spinning her tale. “Thanks to our donations, women can go for job interviews in good-quality professional attire.”

Josie picked up a blue sequined dress. “What profession is this one for? The oldest?”

“Any businessperson knows that parties are networking opportunities in pretty dresses,” Victoria said.

Officer Norris was writing in a small notebook. “There’s nothing wrong with collecting clothes for charity,” she said. “It’s not a police matter.”

“You told me your name was Victoria Garbull and your mother was in a nursing home,” Josie said. “You said you were the daughter of Mrs. Justine Garbull.”

“I’m sure there’s been a miscommunication,” Victoria said. “I told you that I worked at a nursing home and Mrs. Garbull was like a mother to me.”

“She can tell you she’s Wonder Woman if she wants,” Officer Norris said. “It’s not against the law.”

“The shoe prints on Victoria’s lawn match the prints on mine,” Josie said. “They have the same intersecting curves on the soles.”

“You mean these boots?” Victoria produced a pair of black boots from a rack near her front door. Josie recognized the pattern on the soles.

“It’s true, Officer,” Victoria said. “I wear these boots and the soles do have a distinctive design. But let me show you something. Come on. It’s just a short walk.” She picked a white coat off a hall tree and started across her front lawn. Josie and Officer Norris followed her.

“These are my boot prints,” Victoria said. She pointed to the prints Josie had seen earlier with the intersecting curve pattern.

They continued down Palmer Avenue, walking past three turn-of-the-century homes with wide porches and stained-glass windows. At the fourth house, Victoria pointed to the shoe prints leading to a mailbox by the street. They had the same curved pattern.

“Mrs. Morgan, who lives here, has those same boots. So does my friend Taffy, who lives one street over. These aren’t rare or expensive boots, Officer. They were on sale at the Designer Shoe Warehouse and we all bought them. Black boots are a winter wardrobe basic.”

She smiled at Officer Norris. Josie knew she was losing. Josie tried one more time to trap the wily Victoria. “Your neighbor Chuck said you left at three o’clock in the morning.”

“I did,” Victoria said. “I couldn’t sleep and I went for a walk. I feel so safe here. Maplewood has good police protection. I wouldn’t hurt his feelings for the world. Chuck is a nice man, but a bit of a busybody. I bet he told you I went for a walk and I hold those shopping parties. He’s never been to one. They’re really parties for our charity. My friends bring clothes to donate. Sometimes we try them on, like little girls playing dress-up. We drink margaritas, giggle too much, and outdo each other with how many nice outfits we can give a few less fortunate women.”

They were back at Victoria’s home with the purple shutters. Victoria waved to Chuck and smiled sweetly as she climbed her stairs.

At the porch she said, “Officer, I don’t want to take out a restraining order against Ms. Marcus. I understand she has a young daughter and she’s concerned about her child’s safety. But I haven’t harmed her. Could you ask Ms. Marcus to please stay away from my property? Thank you.”

The voice of sweet reason quietly shut her door, leaving Josie and Officer Norris together on the wide porch.

“Sorry, Josie,” Officer Norris said, and shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. Stay away from this woman and her house or you’ll be in real trouble. Do you want a ride to your house?”

“I’d rather walk,” Josie said.

She burned with shame. On the walk home, Josie swore she would get that slippery Victoria. And she wouldn’t go after her alone. She’d call in her friend Alyce.

This time, she would fight her enemy on the battlefield Josie knew best—the mall.

Chapter 39

“How much longer should we wait?” Alyce asked. “I don’t want the neighbors calling the cops because they see a suspicious car.”

Josie had spent hours seething over the humiliation Victoria handed her. Then she’d called Alyce. Together, they’d plotted revenge. Alyce had promised to go to war with Josie the next morning. Now they were waiting in Alyce’s Escalade at the end of Victoria’s street.

“It’s nine twenty-six,” Josie said. “There’s nothing suspicious about two housewives in a shiny Cadillac Escalade.”

“You don’t look like a housewife,” Alyce said. “Not with your new haircut.”

“Sh!” Josie said. “There she is.”

A dark, blurry figure got into a bright yellow Miata. “Follow that car!” Josie cried, and they were off. Victoria drove swiftly toward the highway.

“She’s taking the west ramp,” Josie said.

Alyce followed the yellow car, easily keeping pace in the light traffic. The bright Miata was quick and easy to see. The Cadillac was faster and blended in better. This highway was the gateway to St. Louis’s suburban wealth, and it teemed with sober luxury cars.

“She’s changing her hunting ground,” Alyce said. “She’s shopping—”

“Shoplifting, I hope,” Josie said.

“At one of the rich new malls,” Alyce finished.

Victoria’s yellow Miata turned off the highway and Alyce followed the car. “She’s going to the new Buckingham Mall,” she said.

Buckingham Mall was a sprawl of square grayish brown stores with a fantastic fake-castle entrance. Young men in red uniforms and tall black busbies like those of the British queen’s guards stood at attention at the mall entrance.

The parking lot had plenty of empty places this early in the shopping day, and Victoria parked her car four spots from the mall entrance. Alyce slowed her Escalade to let a blue Mazda back out of a parking spot as Josie watched Victoria get out of her Miata. If they hadn’t been following the Miata, Josie would never have guessed the woman climbing out of it was Victoria. She looked fifty pounds heavier than yesterday.

This morning, Victoria wore her long, shapeless black coat, the same one she’d had on when she was in the wheelchair. The coat nearly covered the calves of her dark boots.

“She looks like she’s gained weight,” Alyce said.

The woman in the Mazda was having difficulty backing out her car. She smiled apologetically at Alyce. Alyce pantomimed to the struggling Mazda driver to take her time.

“Victoria didn’t get fat overnight,” Josie said. “Yesterday she was tall and slender—a size eight or ten. She’s bulked up under the coat with clothes. But that’s all wrong.”

“Why?”

“If she’s shoplifting, she would put the stolen clothes on under her coat and walk out wearing them. I doubt if she could pile on an extra camisole.”

“Maybe she can stuff the stolen goods into her purse,” Alyce said.

“Her purse is so small. There’s barely room for a wallet and keys. But the rest of her outfit is perfect for shoplifting. Her distinctive blond hair is hidden under a wide-brimmed black hat.”

“How did she do that?” Alyce asked.

“My guess? She put it in a braid and pinned it around her head. She’s hidden her bangs, too. And look at her eyebrows. She’s darkened them so she looks like a brunette. A heavy knit scarf covers the rest of her face and neck.”

“Clever,” Alyce said. “A Muslim burka would show more skin.”

The blue Mazda was finally free of the space. The woman gave Alyce a friendly wave and drove off.

“Victoria’s boots are flat and practical,” Josie said. “She can run in those, if she has to. She’s definitely up to something. Let’s go see what it is.”

Alyce pulled smoothly into the spot the Mazda had left empty. Josie and Alyce followed Victoria into the mall. Their quarry was strolling past the stores, studying signs and sale offerings. At a sunglasses cart, she tried on several pairs.

“Watch her,” Josie said. “If she slips a pair of glasses into her pocket, we’ll raise a ruckus. There are security guards everywhere.”

Josie and Alyce sat on the edge of a planter. Screened by peace lilies, they watched Victoria talk to the sunglasses saleswoman.

“That saleswoman is too alert for Victoria to palm anything,” Josie said. “She knows her cart is at risk for shoplifter rip-offs. I hope Victoria doesn’t recognize me. That scene at her home with Officer Norris was pretty intense yesterday.”

“No way,” Alyce said. “I can barely recognize you in your Fashion Victim disguise. You’re well hidden by your blond trophy-wife wig, stiletto heels, and Escada jacket. Is that the one you bought at a West County garage sale?”

“You have a good memory,” Josie said.

“That jacket is hard to forget,” Alyce said.

“I know,” Josie said. “It must have cost a thousand bucks new, but I never wear it unless I need a disguise. It’s bright red and covered with gold braid and buttons. I look like a general in a banana republic.”

“You look like a rich woman,” Alyce said. “There’s no way Victoria will recognize you. She sure won’t remember me. I’m the anonymous suburban mom.”

Josie was saved from answering when Victoria put the last pair of sunglasses back in its place and smiled at the saleswoman.

“Subject on the move,” Alyce said.

But not very fast. Victoria continued window-shopping. Ten minutes later, she stopped for a latte at a coffee cart. Josie used that as an excuse to rest her tortured toes.

“Those heels look painful,” Alyce said.

“They are. If we don’t catch Victoria soon, I’ll be crippled,” Josie said. “The pointy toes are killing my feet.” She discreetly slipped off her shoes under a table and wiggled her suffering toes. She and Alyce watched while Victoria sipped her espresso. After fifteen minutes, Victoria stood up and dropped the cup in the trash.

“She’s heading toward Bluestone’s department store,” Alyce said.

Now Victoria was moving fast, loping through the mall. Alyce and Josie had a hard time keeping up with her, especially Josie. Her heels clip-clopped like a horse’s hooves. She was afraid Victoria would notice the noise.

But their target remained oblivious. At Bluestone’s, Victoria stopped at a table of sale scarves.

“Watch her,” Josie whispered. “Those scarves are easy to conceal.”

Victoria pawed through the scarves, picked out a blue one, and took it to the counter. Josie and Alyce pretended to examine the new shoe styles across the aisle while they watched Victoria in a store mirror.

“Rats,” Alyce said as Victoria paid for the scarf. “Why is she doing this?”

“Maybe she can put some stolen merchandise in her Bluestone’s bag,” Josie said. “She chose a counter right by that guard there, so store security can see she’s Miss Trustworthy Shopper.”

Victoria took the escalator upstairs to the better-dresses department.

“I hate getting on an escalator in heels,” Josie said, wobbling onto the moving stairway. “But we have to follow her.”

Spotlighted at the top of the stairs were three black sequined sheath dresses, displayed like fine art. “Look at those dresses,” Alyce said. “A size zero, a two, and a four. Who wears them? There’s not enough material to make a decent bandage.”