The Fashion Hound Murders (20 page)

Uh-oh. The man sticking a black microphone in Dr. Ted’s face was a reporter famous for his ambush interviews—Big Ike Ikeman. The station’s “I Like Ike” campaign featured a steady procession of flat-voiced folks with bad hair saying, “I like Big Ike because he stands up for the little guy.” Most of those “little guys” were somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred pounds.

Big Ike shared the same shape as his admirers. His hair was unreal, in all senses of the word. His toupee looked like a squirrel had skittered onto his scalp and died. The fake hair managed to be flat and bushy at the same time. Ike’s eyes were small and porky, hidden in pink nests of fat. His smile was mean, especially when he was going in for the kill. He was smiling that way now.

Josie panicked. Poor Ted had walked into a trap, and he was too clueless to know. Maybe she could interrupt the interview with a warning phone call. Josie quickly punched in Ted’s number, but her call went straight into voice mail.

Too late, she thought. He’d turned off his cell. Now there was no way to save Ted. She could only watch the disaster unfold. The interview was live, just the way Big Ike liked it.

Ike’s smile was as genuine as pleather. “So tell me, Dr. Scottsmeyer, what do you think about the people who run puppy mills?” Ike asked.

“As you know, I’ve been working to change the law so that puppy mill owners cannot profit from abusing animals.” Ted’s brown eyes were wide and sincere. “I’d like our legislators to change the Missouri statutes so that millers—people who operate puppy mills—are literally forced to pay for their crimes. Their money should be used to rehabilitate the animals they have mistreated. People should not grow rich hurting innocent puppies and kittens.”

So far, so good, Josie thought. But this reporter usually tossed his victims a softball question or two before he played hardball. She tried to send the unwary Ted warning thoughts. Please, please, be careful, she prayed. Ike will torment you the way a bored cat toys with a mouse. Then he’ll pounce and destroy you.

“Do you know an Edna Prilosen?” Ike asked.

“No, I don’t think so.” Dr. Ted looked so innocent, so clueless.

“Yet you were taped at her funeral only a short time ago.”

While Ted fumbled for an answer, a video showed mourners filing out of a church behind a dark wood casket. An arrow pointed to Ted escorting an older woman wearing a black hat and coat.

“Do you often go to the funerals of women you don’t know?” Ike asked.

“Oh! Edna,” Ted drew out the name.

“How many Ednas do you know?” Big Ike asked.

“Only one. Edna was my mom’s bridge partner. I took Mom to the funeral because she was too upset to drive herself.”

“Do you forget murder victims’ names so easily?” Ike asked.

Now the grainy, gray video of Edna’s horrific hit-and-run was on the screen, this time without any warning about the content. Poor Edna was pursued by the pickup truck, knocked down, and dragged along the parking lot. Josie winced at the brutal video and hoped Edna’s bereaved mother wasn’t watching.

“I didn’t forget Edna,” Dr. Ted said. “I just didn’t remember her.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Ike asked.

“Look, I mean no disrespect to the poor lady,” Ted said. “Edna was a good friend of my mom’s, but I barely knew her.” Ted sounded angry and defensive. He was scrambling for an answer. Even to Josie, his excuse sounded lame.

“Did you know her well enough to avenge her death?”

“Her death! I don’t believe in killing anybody—or any thing.”

Ted looked tired and unwell. Had he been sick with the flu for the last three days? Josie wondered. Was he too groggy to defend himself against Ike’s attacks?

Big Ike gave his famously insincere smile and abruptly switched topics, another trick to lure his victims into feeling safe. “We have a recent case where a Wildfern man was arrested for running a puppy mill. If convicted, he faces jail time for cruelty to animals. Do you think we should fill our already-overcrowded prisons with people who raise puppies?”

Another softball. Josie held her breath.

“As I understand it, Jonah Deerford didn’t raise puppies,” Ted said. “He bred them under cruel conditions. Society will be dealing with the damage this man has done for years.”

“How so?” Ike asked.

“Homes will have to be found for the rescued puppies. More than a hundred puppies will have to be fed and sheltered. Many of the dogs will need special foster and medical care. That man did a lot of damage. If you ask me, jail is too good for him.”

“How about the death penalty?” Ike said.

The camera moved in on Ted’s face. “I’m not sure what you mean.” He looked puzzled.

Josie dug her nails into her palms. This was it. Ike was going for the kill.

Big Ike smiled again. “I mean the man was bitten by a deadly snake and died. The late Jonah Deerford was the number-one police suspect in the death of Edna Prilosen. Police believe that is his truck in the video tape. They found the killer mobile on his property. And by the way, I wasn’t the first to mention Jonah Deerford’s name in this interview.”

Ike pointed dramatically at Ted as his squirrel rug slipped over one eye. “You were. You knew his name.”

“Huh?” Ted looked surprised and completely lost.

“Where were you yesterday?”

“I was sick. I had the flu. I’ve been out of commission the last three days.”

“And before that?”

“I was on call for my clinic. I helped a woman with a sick cat and another lady who had a little dog.”

“And did you do something else at the home of the woman with the dog named Snowball?” Ike asked. “The Wood Winds dog owner?”

“My patients’ medical histories are confidential,” Dr. Ted said.

“Not in the state of Missouri. That’s one law you haven’t managed to change. Did you rescue a snake and take it away from the home of Snowball’s owner? A poisonous snake?”

“I—”

“It can’t be too confidential, doctor. Your patient’s owner told half the subdivision. One public-spirited neighbor called me. Come, doctor. Haven’t you said before that snakes are our friends?” Ike asked.

“Yes,” Ted said, relieved to return to a subject he understood. “I’ve often said that snakes have a useful place in the ecosystem. I believe we must treat them with respect. The public is starting to understand the importance of snakes, thanks to increased education. I tell people if they find a strange snake in their yard, say a copperhead or a rattlesnake, don’t kill it. Call me and I’ll take it away and put it in a safe environment.”

“So you took a poisonous snake out of a subdivision and what? Turned it loose on Jonah Deerford?”

“That’s not true. I let it loose in the wild, away from hiking trails and bicycle paths, where it can live in its natural habitat. Snakes kill mice, rats, and other vermin so we don’t have to resort to harmful, destructive pesticides. But I never advocated that snakes be used for murder.”

Ike’s white teeth shone like bathroom tiles. “Interesting, doctor. I never said Jonah Deerford was murdered. But the police believe he was. Did one of your slimy ‘friends’ kill him?”

“No!” Ted said. “That’s absolutely wrong. Snakes aren’t slimy.”

Josie groaned. Ted would call her, all right. From the county jail.

Chapter 24

Big Ike’s vicious attack on Dr. Ted was followed by a “special report” on the death of Jonah Deerford. First a skillful stabbing, Josie thought. Then murder.

“Accused animal abuser Jonah Deerford was found dead yesterday at the Wildfern farm where he had his kennels,” the blond news anchor intoned.

Josie turned up the sound on her television. The news anchor said, “A UPS driver saw Jonah Deerford sitting in his pickup outside his trailer home. The driver tapped on the window to get Mr. Deerford’s signature. When the victim did not respond, the driver called the police.”

A B-roll festival followed. Josie watched sick puppies being carried out by solemn rescue workers. Then two small, shivering boys wrapped in blankets that hid their faces were helped into officials’ cars. It ended with the inevitable body-bag shot. The paramedics had trouble wheeling the stretcher along Jonah’s rutted yard to the ambulance.

The video switched to a slow pan of a dark gray pickup. A woman in a crime-scene jumpsuit was kneeling by the truck’s right-front bumper, dusting it with a small brush. DEATH TRUCK was the caption on the screen.

“Animal control officers were called to the scene when police spotted a brightly colored snake in the pickup with the deceased,” the news anchor said. “The snake was alive. Fortunately, the police did not open the truck to investigate. Animal control officers captured the rare reptile, and it was taken to the St. Louis Zoo. No one else at the scene was injured.”

A photo of a snake with red, yellow, and black bands flashed on the screen. Josie thought the exotic creature was pretty, for a snake.

“A herpetologist says the reptile is believed to be a deadly coral snake. The coral snake is not native to Missouri. The expert says the coral snake is not aggressive and does not attack unless stepped on or otherwise handled. Police found bite marks on Mr. Deerford’s neck and wrist. There is usually little or no swelling or pain associated with the bite, and symptoms can be delayed for up to twelve hours. The victim may not have been aware of the attack. The bite feels ‘faint as a pinprick and people may not know they’ve been bitten,’ the herpetologist said.

“The last reported coral snake death occurred in the United States in 2008 in Bonita Springs, Florida. An autopsy will be . . .”

Jonah Deerford was dead. The man who starved his sons and profited from mistreating puppies had been murdered. He couldn’t come after Josie or her family now. Josie thought she would feel relieved at the news, but she didn’t know if there were more members of the puppy mill ring out there. What about Jerry? Or Paul? And how did poor Dr. Ted get pulled into this mess?

Josie’s cell rang. She heard a little-girl voice wailing, “It’s all my fault. I ruined Dr. Ted.”

“Hello? Who is this? What happened?” Josie asked.

“It’s me, Traci. Alyce’s neighbor with the little dog.” Josie heard sniffling, followed by a small, shrill bark. “I destroyed that sweet man after he helped me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.” The voice dissolved into incoherent crying blended with a chorus of yaps.

“Mom!” Amelia stood in the bedroom door, with Harry at her side. “I’m going to be late for school. We have to leave now.”

Josie had lost track of the time. “Traci, I’m so sorry, but I can’t talk to you,” Josie said. “I have to get my daughter to school. Don’t sit home alone. Go straight to Alyce’s house. I’ll join you as soon as I can. Yes, it’s okay if you see Alyce this early in the morning. Her little boy, Justin, wakes up around six. Don’t cry. Whatever you’ve done, I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“You promise?” Traci asked, sounding even more girlish. Another tear storm threatened.

“Absolutely. Put on your prettiest outfit, pack up Snowball, and I’ll be there as soon as I drop off Amelia. If she’s late to school, we’re both in trouble. Bye.”

Amelia handed Josie her coat and purse. “Come on, Mom.”

They ran for the car together. Once inside, Josie gave her daughter the cell phone. “Call your aunt Alyce and keep her on the line until I get to a red light.” In Josie’s world, good friends were transformed into honorary aunts and uncles. It was old-fashioned, but it worked. Mrs. Mueller was not and never would be an honorary aunt.

Alyce must have answered the phone immediately. “Aunt Alyce,” Amelia said, “Mom says I should keep talking to you until she gets to a red light. Harry is fine. He’s so cute. Do you know that a cat’s ears . . .”

Amelia happily detailed the wonders of her cat as Josie rolled through three green lights. Damn, she thought. There was never a red light when you needed one. She was halfway to the Barrington School before she finally came to a red light. Amelia handed her the phone. “Alyce, Traci’s on her way over to your house,” Josie said. “She should be there any minute. Something’s wrong, but she was too upset to tell me. All I know is Jonah Deerford, the puppy abuser, is dead, and that idiot Big Ike ambushed Dr. Ted on TV this morning. Traci thinks it’s her fault. No, I don’t know why. The light is turning green. Gotta go. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She handed the phone to Amelia and concentrated on the drive to school. They made it with minutes to spare.

“Out you go.” Josie kissed her daughter on the forehead. It was only 7:58 a.m. and she was exhausted already.

She turned on the radio and heard more news about Jonah’s death. A man identified as a “police official” said, “We are investigating Mr. Deerford’s death as suspicious. Coral snakes are not native to Missouri. We believe someone deliberately put the deadly reptile in Mr. Deerford’s pickup truck where it would attack him.”

Good, Josie thought.

A news commentator added, “Ironically, the murder suspect was found dead in the very weapon the police believe he used to kill Edna Prilosen.”

What? Josie was glad she was sitting at a red light when she heard that news.

“Mr. Deerford’s pickup has been identified as the one in the Pets 4 Luv security video hit-and-run. DNA tests are expected to confirm that the truck was used to kill the victim, who worked at the pet store.”

Poor Edna died for reporting Deerford’s cruelty and greed. It wasn’t fair.

The trip to Alyce’s house took longer than Josie expected. Now that she didn’t need one, she hit every red light on the road. Jane called while she was stopped at one.

“Josie, did you see the news about that puppy mill man?” her mother asked.

“Sure did. Jonah Deerford was murdered, Mom. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

“Mrs. Mueller called me. She’s sure that’s the dark truck she saw prowling the alley the night before that dog attacked me. She wanted the phone number of that nice young policeman who shot the dog. I kept his card. She talked with him and he said she was probably right.”

“That’s good, Mom. I hope you feel safer now,” Josie said. “The light’s turning green. I have to go.”