The Fashion Hound Murders (14 page)

Josie handed her daughter the photo of the sleeping Amelia with her cat. Amelia’s eyes lit up when she saw the picture. “Harry’s so cute! I’m taking this to school to show everyone.”

“Better get moving,” Josie said. “We have to leave soon.”

Josie carried a cup of coffee into her bedroom and turned on the television while she dressed. She winced when she saw the story on the screen.

“Funeral services for Edna Prilosen, who was killed at the Pets 4 Luv store in Rock Road Village, will be tomorrow at St. Philomena’s Catholic Church,” the television news-caster said. He looked professionally sad.

“Police have no leads on the victim’s hit-and-run murder in the store parking lot. The fifty-six-year-old saleswoman is survived by her widowed mother.”

The announcer’s voice slowed and he grew more serious. “We are about to show you the parking lot surveillance video of the hit-and-run incident. We warn you the scene may be upsetting, but it is important that the killer be found.”

Josie couldn’t stand to see the gray, grainy video. The horrible scene still replayed in her mind every night. She turned down the sound and ransacked her closet for a clean shirt. When she looked back, the announcer was reading the news again. Josie turned up the volume.

“The driver’s face is not visible in the video,” he continued, “but authorities say the killer is probably a tall man with broad shoulders. The truck is an older Ford F-150 pickup, one of the most popular models on the road. The color is dark, possibly charcoal, black, or deep blue. The license plates were covered by what may be mud.”

Josie was relieved that she was not mentioned as a witness.

“Police believe the truck has a broken headlight on the passenger side and several dents on the body. If you have any information or have recently seen or worked on a Ford F-150 truck with a broken passenger-side headlight, please let us know. Pets 4 Luv is offering a twenty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the killer.”

A phone number flashed on the screen.

Didn’t Jerry drive a dark, dented Ford pickup? And Paul? They were neighbors of Jonah Deerford. Were they in business together? Did they help him by killing Edna?

Jerry was still defending the man, though Josie couldn’t understand why. Any reasonable person could see Jonah had neglected his boys and those puppies. Both Jerry and Paul were tall men with broad shoulders. Josie didn’t know enough about Paul to suspect him. All she knew for a fact was that Edna was dead. Jonah was out on bail. Millions of dollars, and Jonah’s family farm, were at risk. The man was cruel and vindictive—and suspicious of Josie. He’d asked Jerry about her. Did Jerry really tell him Josie was a harmless mystery shopper?

Josie felt too sick to drink more coffee. Was Detective Gray right—did her amateur meddling kill an innocent woman?

I can’t take all the blame, Josie decided. The store should have hired a professional investigator. Harry shouldn’t have stuck me with that stupid purse cam. Edna shouldn’t have talked to Nedra and the other investigators. But if Edna hadn’t talked, the cruelty would have continued. Now she was dead. And Josie was carrying a load of guilt.

Jonah killed her, Josie thought. Fear gripped her so tightly, she could hardly breathe. What if he comes after me next? What if he hurts my daughter?

Maybe Jonah didn’t kill Edna. The store manager also had a good reason to want her dead. Edna’s testimony would ruin Dave’s career. He was on the run now. He’d seen Josie talking to Edna on the store security camera. Thanks to Dave’s visit to Milwaukee, he knew Josie had mystery-shopped his store and discovered his ugly secret. Dave had evaded the police so far. He could come back for her. Josie had no idea what the man looked like. She thought of Edna’s mother and her terrible fate: The poor woman outlived her daughter.

I have to protect Amelia, Josie thought. My daughter will be safe at school. Barrington has security on the premises and a good system for carpooling parents. The school would not let Amelia outside after class unless a preapproved driver—Josie, Jane, or Alyce—was waiting for her. The school had their approved drivers’ photos and license plate numbers. Jonah wouldn’t have a chance.

But she’d better deliver her daughter to the safety of her school first.

“Time to go, Amelia,” Josie said. “Are you ready?”

Amelia tucked the photo of her and Harry into her notebook, then stuffed them into her monogrammed backpack. She was wearing her coolest clothes. Josie thought her daughter looked like a junior model in her skinny coral jeans and long, black tank top under a black-checked smocked top. The weather was just right for her vintage blue wash jacket.

It had taken Josie weeks of shrewd shopping at consignment stores, garage sales, and designer closeouts to assemble that outfit. Josie didn’t want Amelia to look like a scholarship student. I don’t want her to be a nerd like her mother was, Josie thought. Mom couldn’t buy me fashionable school clothes. Money was too tight after Dad left us.

“I’m ready,” Amelia said. “Harry and I have had breakfast, I’ve showered, and he took a bath. I even cleaned the litter box.”

“Let me go outside first,” Josie said.

“Why?” Amelia said.

“As your mother, I want to greet the day first.”

“You’re nutso-crazy,” Amelia said.

Josie stepped out on the front porch. The sunny morning was crisp and cold. There were no unknown cars—or pickups—parked nearby. No strangers lurked on the sidewalk. Stan’s car was still in his driveway. Mrs. Mueller peeked out her side window.

Josie waved to the old snoop, then said, “Let’s hurry.”

“I hear a dog barking,” Amelia said.

“A cat is probably strolling down the back alley,” Josie said.

“The dog is barking really loud,” Amelia said. “Do the Petersens have a big dog?”

“We can take a dog census later,” Josie said. “You’re going to be late for school.”

Josie was relieved when Amelia climbed into the car and slammed the door. Except for the barking dog, the street seemed quiet—too quiet, as they said in the old movies.

Amelia was not quiet. All the way to school, she chattered about Harry, praising the perfection of her cat’s fur, stripes, eyes—even his ears. “Do you know a cat has thirty-two muscles in each ear, Mom? Humans have only six muscles per ear.”

“But more muscles between their ears,” Josie said, thinking of her erstwhile boyfriend, Stan.

“Huh?” Amelia said.

“Sorry,” Josie said. “Tell me about cats’ ears.”

“I read some fun facts on the Internet. A cat can rotate its ears one hundred eighty degrees.”

“That explains why Harry has ears like satellite dishes,” Josie said. She saw Amelia’s smile waver. “I wasn’t criticizing. His ears are amazing.”

Amelia was talking about the flexibility of Harry’s spine, when they finally reached school. Josie was relieved. They were running out of feline body parts.

She still felt uneasy. Poor Edna’s murder was horrible. She hoped Edna’s mother didn’t see that ghastly video. What must it be like, to watch your daughter die on television? Josie prayed she’d never know.

To distract herself, she drove to the supermarket for odds and ends. The store was nearly deserted. Josie breezed through the aisles, filling her cart with wholesome, everyday items—bread, milk, soup, and cereal.

It was after nine that morning when she turned into her street. It was no longer quiet. The road was blocked by an ambulance with open doors, two police cars, and an animal control van. A carnival of flashing blue, red, and yellow lights strobed across the houses.

What happened? Josie wondered. Thank God Amelia was safely at school. But that left . . .

“Mom!” she screamed. Josie abandoned her car by Mrs. Mueller’s house and ran up the sidewalk to her home.

She was stopped by a uniformed police officer.

“I have to get in,” Josie said. “I live here.”

“Do you know the woman who lives upstairs?” the officer asked.

“She’s my mother,” Josie said. “Has there been an accident? Is she hurt?”

Josie heard something bumping on the concrete walkway alongside the house. Paramedics were helping Jane onto a stretcher. Josie’s mother looked small and pale as they strapped her onto the gurney. One sleeve on Jane’s winter coat was torn. Her bare hand was padded with heavy white bandages. Josie could see blood on the stark white gauze.

“She was attacked,” the officer said.

Chapter 16

Josie’s street was a swirl of confusion. Police cars and paramedics were parked every which way. Radios squawked. Neighbors gawked. The uniformed officer barring Josie’s way was a blue island of calm in the chaos. He refused to let Josie run up her own sidewalk.

“What is your business here, ma’am?” The officer looked young and fit. His name tag said KIRBY.

“Who attacked my mother?” Josie demanded.

“It wasn’t a person, ma’am,” Officer Kirby said. “A dog attacked her. A mean one. Your mother said she heard loud barking and went to the garage to investigate. When she opened the side door, the dog sprang at her. Her throat was wrapped in a thick winter scarf. That may have saved her life. She grabbed a broom by the door and managed to fend off the dog. Her arm needs stitches, but there’s no damage to her face.”

“How did you get here?” Josie’s voice wobbled.

“Your neighbor Mrs. Mullet—”

“Mueller,” Josie corrected.

“Mrs. Mueller heard your mother’s screams and called 911. We were in the area and able to respond quickly.” Kirby said it matter-of-factly, but Josie could tell he was proud.

“Mrs. Mueller directed us to the backyard. The dog charged me. I shot the animal. The dog is dead.”

“Good,” Josie said.

“I think it was a rottweiler.” He pointed to a dark, bloody heap in the grass by the garage.

Josie thought of Barney, a rottweiler that belonged to a high school friend. Josie had admired the dog’s black and brown coat and patted its big head and soft ears. She couldn’t imagine Barney as a crazed killer.

Officer Kirby was still talking. “We can’t let anyone touch the body. St. Louis County Animal Control will take the dog and test it for rabies.”

“Do you think it was rabid?”

“We don’t know, ma’am. Rabid dogs can become aggressive, and this dog was definitely threatening. It had open sores on its coat. If it’s rabid, your mother will need rabies shots.”

“Oh, no,” Josie said. “Whose dog is it?”

“The animal was not wearing a collar or tags,” Officer Kirby said. “We think someone may have put the dog in the garage, unless it crawled under the door when your mother drove in, which is unlikely. Your mother says she closed the side door to the garage when she came home yesterday, but it wasn’t kept locked. Someone could have opened the back gate, then let the dog inside the garage. Does anyone have a grudge against your mother?”

“Of course not,” Josie said. “She’s a church lady.”

“They have enemies, too,” Officer Kirby said.

“Church ladies fight over committees, officer. They don’t sic rabid dogs on one another.”

“Does anyone else park in that garage?” the officer asked.

“I park on the street,” Josie said.

Should she tell Officer Kirby about Jonah and her damning mystery-shopping report? Josie wondered. She’d like to trust the officer, but so far, her report had been the death of Edna. What if Jonah was behind this attack and found out it had failed? He might come back and hurt Jane again—or Amelia. What if Dave the store manager found them? The officer was brave, but he looked young and inexperienced. Josie couldn’t risk her daughter’s life.

The paramedics were wheeling the stretcher past them. Josie ran alongside it. “Mom! How are you?”

Jane’s voice was so low, Josie could hardly hear her. “A dog attacked me when I opened the garage. Someone locked him in there. I hit him with the broom. He bit my arm. He ruined my new gloves.”

“Don’t worry about your gloves, Mom,” Josie said.

“Mrs. Mueller heard me scream and called the police. That young policeman shot the dog. She saved my life, Josie.”

“We need to get her to the hospital, ma’am,” a paramedic interrupted.

“Can I ride with my mother in the ambulance?” Josie asked.

“It would be better if you met us at Holy Redeemer. You’ll probably need your car to get home from the hospital. You know where Holy Redeemer is?”

“Yes,” Josie said. It was the hospital where her lover, Nate, had died. Josie ran for her car, her mind blank with fear. Mrs. Mueller barred her way, arms folded across her massive chest. They did an awkward do-si-do on the sidewalk as Josie tried to avoid her.

“I’m on my way to the emergency room,” Josie said. “I’ll fill you in when I get home. You won’t miss any gossip.”

“Don’t forget, I saved your mother’s life, young lady,” Mrs. Mueller said.

“I won’t. You won’t let me.”

Josie jumped in her car and followed the ambulance to the hospital, hoping she didn’t have an accident in her distracted state. She found a parking spot near the emergency room entrance and ran inside.

A receptionist with a crisp, no-nonsense voice stopped her. “Jane Marcus is with the doctor. Take a seat in the waiting area.”

Josie was too upset to sit. She paced the dreary room, waiting for word about her mother. Worried families huddled in groups on orange plastic chairs. A baby cried. The TV blared, but no one watched it.

Josie was racked with guilt. Why didn’t I listen to my daughter this morning? she asked herself. Amelia had heard that dog barking. I could have prevented this attack.

A zillion questions ping-ponged in her mind: Who locked that vicious dog in Mom’s garage? Was it Jonah Deerford? How did he know where I live? Did he have a rottweiler? I only saw little purse dogs at his kennels.

After an hour of regret and recriminations, the receptionist called Josie’s name. “Your mother is in room two,” she said.

The room was a curtained cubicle. Jane wore a hospital gown and a big white mitten of gauze. She looked every one of her sixty-eight years. The chubby, pink-faced ER doctor looked like a self-satisfied pig. Josie nicknamed him Dr. Porker.