The Fashion Hound Murders (26 page)

We haven’t even had a date yet, she thought. I’m fighting for a future we may never have.

Chapter 31

Josie was greeted by the warm, welcoming smell of chicken soup that cold winter night. She followed the scent upstairs and leaned in the doorway, listening to her mother and daughter discuss ingredients.

“The soup needs more dill,” Jane said. “Taste it and see.”

Josie heard a light slurp as Amelia sampled a spoonful. “I agree about the dill. But do we have to add carrots?”

“They’ll give it body,” Jane said. “And they don’t taste like carrots.”

“They do to me,” Amelia said.

“Me, too,” Josie said. “Not that I’m qualified to chime in on any cooking discussion. Your soup smells good.”

“Grandma says there should be enough meat on the stewing hen to make chicken salad, too.”

“Another homemade dinner,” Josie said. “I hate to break up the class, but you have school tomorrow and you need to check on Harry.”

“I’d better see if he ate his stinky fish.” Amelia ran downstairs to their flat. Josie stayed behind to talk to her mother.

“Thanks again, Mom,” Josie said.

“I enjoy teaching her.”

Amelia yelled upstairs, “He ate it! He ate it!”

“Thank goodness!” Josie yelled back.

“What’s the big deal?” Jane asked.

“If Harry doesn’t eat his canned food, he gets plugged up. The next enema will cost me two hundred dollars.”

“That’s outrageous!” Jane said.

“Well, so far he likes the canned fish. But this taught Amelia an important lesson.”

“What’s that?” Jane asked.

“No matter what you do, there’s always an asshole in charge,” Josie said.

“Josie Marcus, wash your mouth out with soap,” Jane said as Josie fled down the stairs laughing.

“What’s so funny, Mom?” Amelia was in the kitchen, refilling Harry’s water bowl.

“I was explaining to your grandmother why we were glad Harry ate his fish,” Josie said. “It’s bedtime for you.”

Amelia set the bowl on the floor with a clunk, usually the signal for Harry to appear. He didn’t.

“Where’s Harry?” Amelia asked.

Josie made her dog noises again, walking up and down the hall. Finally, the little cat came out of Amelia’s closet, stretched, and looked around.

“You’d think if I sounded like a real dog he’d stay hidden,” Josie said.

“Harry knows he’s safe here,” Amelia said.

Amelia sent off a final flurry of text messages to her friends while Josie searched the Net for information about coral snakes. One Web site said eastern coral snakes were “extremely reclusive and generally bite humans only when handled or stepped on.”

Did the late Jonah Deerford step on his snake attacker—or sit on it? It didn’t matter. The coral snake bit him and he died.

“There is little or no pain or swelling at the site of the bite,” the Web site said, “and other symptoms can be delayed for twelve hours.”

Jonah could have been bitten the night before or early in the morning, and then died half a day later. By the time the venom kicked in, Deerford would have experienced “slurred speech, double vision, and muscular paralysis.” Josie wondered if he was trying to drive somewhere for help when he died.

Not a pleasant way to go, but Jonah had hurt too many innocent animals for Josie to feel sympathy for him. He’d treated his own sons worse than dogs. Or at least as badly as the poor pups in his kennel. And Edna’s death was too horrible to think about. Jonah did not deserve pity.

According to another Web site, the eastern coral snake was found in parts of North Carolina, Louisiana, and all of Florida. Josie knew plenty of St. Louisans vacationed in Florida. And one recent addition to St. Louis used to live in snake central: cute little Traci.

Wasn’t there someone else local who spent a lot of time in Florida? Someone who liked snakes? A name niggled in her brain, but she couldn’t remember who it was.

Josie’s search turned up two more types of coral snakes in the United States—a Texas coral snake and the western coral snake. The western snake slithered through parts of Arizona and New Mexico, then down into old Mexico. But none came as far north as Missouri. Not naturally, anyway.

Josie knew Interstate 44 ran from St. Louis through Oklahoma and ended somewhere in Texas. The highway was a major drug corridor, or so the news reports said. The highway patrol was always busting someone with a car full of coke. Ted said drug dealers liked to keep exotic animals. Maybe one of them liked the deadly beauty of a coral snake.

That certainly broadened the potential coral snake population, Josie thought. But their owners were likely to be even more dangerous than their pets. Didn’t Traci mention something about living in Arizona? What was that all about? She’d have to find a way to ask, without sounding jealous.

Josie yawned. She could hardly keep her eyes open. Enough research. She peeked into her daughter’s room for a final check. Amelia had fallen asleep with her bedside light on. Josie tiptoed in and turned it off. Harry was curled at the foot of the bed, guarding Amelia. He raised his head.

“Woof!” Josie said softly. Harry began searching the room for the imaginary dog.

“Good night,” Josie whispered to him. “There’s no dog. You’re safe here.”

Strange things slithered on the edge of Josie’s dreams, but they didn’t wake her. When her alarm went off at seven the next morning, Josie felt better after more than ten hours of solid sleep.

Morning brought the real horrors. It started harmlessly enough, with a wake-up call from Alyce. She was breathless with excitement.

“Josie, turn on your television, now,” Alyce said. “There’s a news story coming up you don’t want to miss.”

THE KENNEL OF DEATH headline filled Josie’s screen.

“How melodramatic is that?” Josie said.

“It’s Deerford Kennels,” Alyce said. “And the story is melodramatic. They’ve found another body there. A woman.”

The blond anchor intoned, “Police made another grim discovery yesterday at the Deerford Kennels in Wildfern. Authorities were continuing the investigation into the death of Jonah Deerford when they discovered the body of his wife in an abandoned refrigerator on the property.”

“I wondered how any woman could abandon those boys,” Josie said.

“Shut up and listen,” Alyce said. “It’s important.”

“Dental records confirmed that the dead woman was Allegra Coleson Deerford, mother of the two boys child welfare officials removed from the farm,” the news anchor said. “Mrs. Deerford appeared to have been shot, a police spokesperson said. An autopsy is being performed.

“Mr. Deerford had told authorities that his wife had abandoned their sons. Two years ago, he went to court to bar his wife’s parents from visiting the boys. In legal documents, Mr. Deerford claimed the boys’ grandparents were ‘unstable hippies’ and ‘drug users’ living on a commune in California. He was granted the injunction. The boys’ grandparents had no known drug charges that would support Mr. Deerford’s claim, but said they lacked the money to fight the custody battle.”

The video switched to shots of investigators clustered around a beat-up truck. “Mr. Deerford died in his truck from a deadly coral snake bite,” the announcer said. “The Wildfern police are treating his death as suspicious. Rock Road Village veterinarian Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer was arrested and charged with Deerford’s murder. Police confirmed that the same pickup in which Mr. Deerford was found dead had been used in the hit-and-run murder of Edna Prilosen, a Pets 4 Luv salesclerk.”

Mercifully, the station did not run the security video of Edna’s murder.

“Police believe she was killed by Mr. Deerford because she was giving animal activists information about sales of his puppy mill dogs to the Pets 4 Luv store in Rock Road Village. The store’s former manager is wanted for questioning. A Pets 4 Luv spokesperson denied any knowledge of the puppy mill dogs and said the dogs were bought without corporate authorization.”

The announcer said, “But now there may be a happy ending to this tragedy, at least for the children. Recently, the commune where Allegra Coleson Deerford’s parents lived was sold to a California developer. The commune dwellers shared the substantial profits. Allegra’s parents bought a home in San Diego and hoped to be reunited with their grandsons. They flew to St. Louis when the children were taken into protective custody. The grandparents have begun the process to adopt the two boys. To speed the process, they paid for a home study in California. Missouri authorities are cooperating with the California child welfare officials.”

The station broke for a shampoo commercial. Models showed off impossibly silky manes.

“It’s early in the morning and I’m confused,” Josie said. “Jonah Deerford killed poor Edna because he thought she was going to ruin his puppy mill business.”

“Right,” Alyce said.

“Then Jonah was found dead in the same truck. He was bitten by a poisonous snake that doesn’t belong in Missouri.”

“Also right,” Alyce said. “And good riddance, too. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“I guess not, but I don’t know if he’s acting alone or not,” Josie said. “Dr. Ted was arrested, even though he was innocent.”

“And you’re going to leave that investigation to the police,” Alyce said.

“Now it looks like Jonah Deerford killed his wife, the mother of those poor abused boys,” Josie said.

“Wait! The commercial’s over,” Alyce said. “We’re getting to the fun part.”

“I hope so,” Josie said, “because this is a grim way to start the day.”

Alyce hung up.

The blond news reader beamed at the camera. “And now we have a special report on the fate of one animal that may have been rescued from the Deerford Kennels puppy mill. Ms. Traci Teeger believes the puppy she bought at Pets 4 Luv is a survivor of Deerford Kennels.”

Josie’s jaw dropped. There were Traci and Snowball, both wearing matching rhinestone hoodies, like a pair of rock stars.

“This is my baby, Snowball,” Traci said, in that annoying, shrill voice.

“Yap!” Snowball said.

“I may barf,” Josie said to the television.

“Did you say something, Mom?” Amelia was standing in Josie’s doorway, dressed for school.

“Look at that silly woman,” Josie said. “She calls a bichon her baby.”

“So?” Amelia said. “I think it’s cute. Their outfits are awesome.”

“Would you dress Harry in rhinestones?”

“No. He doesn’t need them. He’s not a fluffy dog. Why are you so down on her, Mom? She’s a nice lady who helped a sick dog. And look at her puppy. Snowball seems happy. Her tail is wagging.”

Tears brimmed in Traci’s eyes as she cuddled her pup and looked straight into the camera. “My poor little baby was never allowed to play,” she said. “Her tiny feet never touched the ground. When I got her, she was covered with flea bites and she had ear mites. She was underweight. The vet said she was lucky—lucky! Many puppy mill dogs have far worse problems. Puppies like Snowball suffer so I could have a silly piece of paper that said she was pedigreed. I don’t need any paper to know she’s special.”

Traci kissed her dog. A single tear started down her face. “Snowball is learning to walk and play. She’s getting medicine. She’s gained half a pound. She’s getting better every day. If you go to my YouTube site, ‘Snowball in Hell,’ you’ll see her progress on my puppycam. If you want to talk about your own rescue pup, e-mail me at snowballs [email protected].”

“Gag me,” Josie said.

“Mom, stop it!” Amelia said. “You sound like Zoe when she’s ragging about Harry.”

At the mention of his name, the little cat appeared and bumped his forehead against Josie’s leg to greet her.

“Hello to you, too,” Josie said. “There’s my good boy.”

“Excuse me?” Amelia said. “Did you just call a cat your boy? I’ve always wanted a brother, but I never expected one with four legs.”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” Josie said. Shame seared her mind. She’d thought she’d gotten over her jealous impulses, but they were definitely alive. Her daughter was right. Josie was acting like a spoiled child.

“Why can Harry be your boy, but Snowball can’t be Traci’s baby?” Amelia asked.

“Let this be a lesson to you,” Josie said.

“Another one?” Amelia rolled her eyes. “What do I need to know now?”

“Just because someone is older doesn’t mean they act like an adult.”

Chapter 32

Harry the cat met Josie at the door, his striped tail at a jaunty angle.

“You’ve come out to say hello,” Josie said, falling into the baby talk that people use around pets. “You’re my good . . . uh . . . animal companion.”

That sounded lame. But she couldn’t call Harry her “good boy.” Not after what Amelia had said. Josie knew she sounded as silly as Traci. She reached down to scratch Harry’s ears and said, “Amelia will be back from school this afternoon. I just dropped her off.”

What am I doing talking to a cat? Josie thought. He doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. She sent Traci a mental apology. I’m sorry. I’m only a rhinestone away from you.

Josie gratefully answered the ringing phone. Anything to escape her own thoughts.

“So what did you think?” Alyce said.

“About what?” Josie said.

“About Traci and Snowball’s television debut,” Alyce said.

“They were okay,” Josie said, her tone grudging.

“Okay? They rocked!” Alyce said. “The viewers went crazy. Traci’s YouTube video has had three thousand hits so far. Her e-mail box is filled with people who want to tell their rescue-puppy stories.”

“That’s nice,” Josie said.

“Is that all you can say?” Alyce asked.

Here goes, Josie thought. This is your last chance to grow up. “I mean I’m delighted. Yes, delighted. Happy for her and Snowball. I’d like to give Traci the tiara. I promise I’ll listen to every word she says about Snowball. I’ll even buy you both lunch.”

“You bought us lunch yesterday,” Alyce said, “though you weren’t very gracious. Why don’t you meet at my place for brunch tomorrow?”

“Deal. And you can kick me if I get surly.”

“I was thinking of a muzzle trimmed in rhinestones,” Alyce said, and laughed.