Accessory to Murder (28 page)

Josie searched desperately for another topic. “Granby,” she said. “He hated Jake. Is he working with you?”

“That idiot? Of course not. But I did tell him an interesting story I'd heard about a corporate lawyer who was working on a huge takeover. His career was destroyed by an e-mail somebody sent from his computer to the CEO of the takeover target. I could practically hear the lights go on in Granby's greedy little brain. I knew he was desperate to make partner and wanted Jake out of the way.

“But we've talked long enough. Take a nice big drink of your wine and say good night, Josie.”

This was it. Linda would force her to swallow the rest of the wine. Then the bubbling water would close over Josie's head. She would never see Amelia again. Never shop for her prom dress. Never watch her go on a date.

Date! She couldn't let her daughter grow up alone and unprotected.

Might as well go for it, Josie decided. She's going to kill me, anyway. She grabbed the hot-tub railing and, with a mighty effort, pulled herself out of the pool. The water felt like heavy wet hands pulling her back into a watery grave. She flopped onto the deck.

“Stop!” Linda screamed. “Get back in or I'll shoot.”

“No, you won't.” Josie was wet and shivering. She longed for one of the thick towels on the chaise. “Your husband is due home shortly. You'll never be able to clean up all the blood in time. Besides, where are you going to put my body?”

“In the toolshed in the backyard,” Linda said.

“Won't work,” Josie said. “I'm heavier than I look. There will be drag marks in your sod. Your husband will notice.”

“No, he never—”

But Linda didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Josie lunged for the weapon. “Give me the gun.”

“No!” Linda said. “I'll shoot you, and then I'll kill myself. I won't go back to this life. I won't.”

“Put the gun down,” Josie said.

“You're going to die,” Linda screamed.

A tinny tune interrupted her dramatic scene. Linda and Josie both froze.

Josie recognized her cell phone's song: U2, “New Year's Day.” That put her a split second ahead of Linda.

Josie kicked her in the bikini wax with all her might. Linda doubled over, but she still clung to the gun. Josie grabbed the wine bottle from the table, and tried to hit Linda on the head. Linda slid sideways on the wet tile, ducked the wine bottle, and brought up the gun. It was pointed at Josie's heart.

“You're going to die, Josie,” she gasped. “I don't care anymore. I want—”

Josie swung the wine bottle like a baseball bat, and slammed Linda on the shoulder. Josie heard a crack like a tree branch breaking. The gun dropped from Linda's hand and skidded across the pool tile.

Josie kicked it into the hot tub. She was gasping for breath. She held the wine bottle, poised for another swing.

Linda rocked back and forth on the slippery tile, holding her injured arm. Tears splashed on her bikini top.

“Don't hurt me,” Linda said. “Don't hate me. I just wanted out of St. Louis.”

“You're alive because you ate five Chunk-A-Chickens,” Mike the plumber said. “I don't believe it.”

Josie didn't believe she was in this cold hospital room with a hot Mike holding her hand. Too bad an IV was stuck in it with enough tape to wrap every Christmas present in Maplewood.

“Hey, I'm only repeating what the doctors told me,” Josie said. “The Chunk-A-Chickens saved my life. Linda drugged my wine, but the chicken grease and Maalox coated my stomach and slowed down the secobarbital. Otherwise, I could have died.”

Josie couldn't believe she said that. She could have died, but she didn't. She was floating on painkillers and pure happiness. On the other side of the curtain, her roommate snored gently after gallbladder surgery.

“But you ate five Chunk specials with fries and gravy,” Mike said. “That would kill a normal person.”

“I know,” Josie said. “My horrible boss, Harry, is taking credit for saving my life. He says I'd be dead if he hadn't given me that rotten job.”

“He called it a rotten job?” Mike said.

“Well, no,” Josie said. “But he made me mystery shop Chunk-A-Chickens because he was mad that my report got his niece fired. Most mystery shoppers refuse to eat that garbage. They pretend to taste it and lie on their reports.”

“Your dedication saved your life,” Mike said.

“You want to hear the worst part?” Josie said. “Harry says Chunk-A-Chicken is thrilled by the publicity. They're putting out a press release about the lifesaving properties of their product. They've requested me as their permanent mystery shopper. How could I be so lucky?”

“Actually, you are one lucky lady.”

“Don't I know it,” Josie said. “It's almost midnight and I'm supposed to be dead.”

She was definitely alive right now. In fact, she was tingling all over. She felt like celebrating. No, she felt like ripping off Mike's clothes.

Whoa, girl, she thought. Calm down. This isn't love. It's adrenaline overload. Besides, your mother and daughter are right down the hall, trying to find a soda.

That worked better than a bucket of cold water. Josie knew she was hardly a romantic sight. Her hair was stiff with chlorine, her face was ghost pale, and her gut was distended. Josie prayed nothing awful erupted while Mike was in the room.

“What did they do to you?” Mike said. “And how long are you in here?”

“They put me on this IV, pumped my stomach, and threw some activated charcoal in there to absorb any drugs that were left,” Josie said. “They also took about half my blood for liver-function tests.”

“Ohmigod,” Mike said. He gently petted her taped hand. Josie thought she would drown in the sympathy in his deep blue eyes.

“Wasn't that bad,” she said. She almost shrugged, except that would hurt too much. “I'm glad they did it. I'd been mystery-shopping Greta Burgers and Chunk-A-Chickens. I hope this removed the last traces of both. They'll probably have to sandblast my arteries.”

“When do you go home?”

“They're watching me tonight. If everything is normal, I go home in the morning.”

“Josie, I haven't known you that long, but ‘normal' isn't a word that describes you.”

“It's relative,” Josie said. “My relatives should be back here in about two minutes.”

Suddenly, Josie yawned. Long hours in the emergency room, and God knew how many questions by the police, had taken their toll. Josie felt like someone had pulled the plug on her. Mike was sensitive enough to notice.

“You're beat,” Mike said. “I'd better go.”

“I'm sorry. This isn't exactly the evening we planned,” Josie said.

“My grandma used to say, ‘If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.' Thanks for calling to cancel our date. With all you had going on, I'm surprised you even thought of me.”

Josie looked at that rugged face with the
Miami Vice
beard, the broad shoulders and strong hands. “I don't think I can forget you.”

She gave Mike a good-bye kiss that made sure he'd remember her.

Josie was asleep when Jane and Amelia returned with three sodas.

The morning sun was like a slap in the eye. Josie's roommate had her TV on low. Josie recognized the announcer's voice. It was her main morning man, John Pertzborn on Fox 2 News.

“Murder charges against Attorney Milton ‘Jake' Bohannon were dropped when police found new evidence in the killing of designer Halley Hardwicke,” John said. “Linda Dattilo was arrested and charged with the murder of the Wood Winds designer and the West End artist known as Evelyn. Ms. Dattilo is a popular Wood Winds decorator. Police said—”

Josie's phone rang. She knew who it was before she picked it up.

“It's me.” Alyce sounded like her old self. “Josie, I'm so sorry you're in the hospital. I can't thank you enough for all you've done. I knew Jake was innocent. I'm glad you believed in him, too. I have to go now, but we'll thank you in depth later. Can you have visitors?”

“I'm going home this morning,” Josie said. “I'm fine. Mom will be here. Stay with Jake. He needs you.”

Jake was free. That meant Josie was free, too. She didn't have to go out with Granby Hicks. Josie called him and canceled their date. She didn't mention she was in the hospital. The less she talked to Granby, the better.

Granby was furious. She thought he might sue her for a breach of the social contract.

“That's outrageous. You can't cancel,” Granby said. “You have a commitment. You made that date days ago. I have reservations.”

“I have reservations, too,” Josie said. “Serious reservations about going out with a sleaze like you. Good-bye, Granby.”

Josie enjoyed hanging up on him.

Thirty minutes later, her mother was glowering at Josie. Her arms clutched a shopping bag full of clean clothes, but Jane held them hostage until she got the answers she wanted.

“I got a call from Mrs. Mueller,” Jane said. “Why did you cancel your date with Granby?”

The neighborhood information network never ceased to amaze Josie. Mrs. Mueller had set up that date, and assumed she'd made a perfect match. She probably had Josie's wedding present on layaway.

“He's not a nice man,” Josie said.

“Oh, Josie,” her mother said. There was a world of disappointment in those two words.

“No, I mean it, Mom. He's a horrible person. After what he did on our last date, I never want to see him again.”

“He didn't try to force you to—”

“Yes, he did, Mom.” He tried to force me to go out to dinner with him, Josie thought, but Jane, bless her, would assume the worst.

Sure enough, Jane gasped, then clenched her fists. “Where is he? Let me at him. When I finish with him—”

“I've handled it,” Josie said. “You don't have to worry. Just promise me no more blind dates from Mrs. Mueller.”

“Certainly not. Not when she tried to fix my daughter up with riffraff! And speaking of riffraff, why on earth did you go to that murderer's house alone, Josie Marcus?”

“Because I didn't know Linda was a murderer,” Josie said. “As soon as I figured it out, I tried to get out of there, but it was too late.”

“You would have been dead if I hadn't called you at the right moment,” Jane said.

Her mother was taking credit for saving Josie's life, too. Josie figured Jane deserved to. Now the scene by Linda's hot tub seemed almost funny. But Josie hadn't been laughing when her cell phone had played the lifesaving tune that made Linda hesitate. The scene had replayed in Josie's head all night long, in an endless loop.

Josie had kicked Linda in the crotch, hit her with the wine bottle, and dumped the gun into the hot tub. Then she'd wrapped the flexible pool hose around the designer's doubled-up form.

For good measure, Josie had pinned her with a heavy wrought-iron chair. By then, the fight seemed to go out of Linda. She clutched her injured arm. She wept for her lost opportunities. That's when Josie realized her cell phone was still ringing.

She'd stood by the steaming hot tub and opened the phone with shaking fingers.

“Josie,” her mother had said, “I don't know why you carry that fancy phone if you're not going to answer it.”

“Mom, I've got Halley's killer. Call 911.”

“Where are you? What's wrong?”

Josie shouted over the bubbling tub and the weeping Linda, “Mom, I caught Halley's killer. Call 911. I'm at the home of Linda Dattilo in Wood Winds. It says ‘Dattilo' on the mailbox. I've got the killer tied up.”

“Don't go away. Stay on the line,” Jane said. “I'll call the police from my other phone. They'll be there in no time to save you and Linda.”

“Linda's the killer,” Josie said.

“You're not making any sense, Josie. You're in shock. Keep talking to me. The police will be there right away.”

Josie couldn't hear what her mother told 911, but in six minutes, Jane had enough law enforcement personnel at Linda's house for a whole season of
Law & Order
. A woozy Josie staggered and stumbled around, trying to explain what had happened. At first, the police thought she was drunk. Finally, they understood she'd been drugged.

Her mother broke all speed records, arriving at the ER with Amelia just as Josie's ambulance pulled up. Good old Jane. She was tough and determined.

“Josie? Why are you staring off into space?” Jane demanded, pulling Josie out of her reverie.

“I was thinking that you were magnificent yesterday, and I can't thank you enough. GBH, Mom.”

Josie wrapped her mother in a great big hug, then pulled back in surprise. “Mom, you don't smell like cigarette smoke.”

“I quit,” Jane said. “It was the only way I could afford the new paint job and porch railings. I was setting fire to my money.”

“I'm glad you stopped,” Josie said.

Josie would never admit it, but she was also glad that Jane had started. Amelia now thought smoking was gross. Josie wouldn't have to worry about her daughter sharing any more rebellious smokes in the girls' bathroom.

Her daughter was peeking around the room-divider curtain. “Mom, what did you do to your hair?” Amelia said. Jane must have made her wait outside until after the lecture session.

“Like my new style?” Josie said. “It's a special chlorine mousse.”

“You're nutso-crazy,” her daughter said. “But my friends think you're sweet. None of their moms would catch a killer in a hot tub.”

“Thank you.” Josie remembered how she'd clung to the idea of surviving so she would see Amelia again. “I couldn't have done it without you.”

A week after Linda had been led away in handcuffs, Josie finally had a chance to sit down and really talk to Alyce.

Alyce had wanted to fix an elaborate dinner, but Josie wanted life to return to normal. She never had dinner with Alyce. She wanted coffee in her friend's kitchen.

It was good to sit at the granite island, surrounded by the warm oak paneling and Alyce's collection of kitchen gadgets.

“So far, the only one who isn't taking credit for saving my life is Linda,” Josie said. “I almost feel sorry for her.”

“Are you crazy, Josie Marcus?” Alyce said. “She nearly killed you. She tried to destroy my husband. She nearly ruined our lives and left your daughter an orphan. Save your sympathy for someone who deserves it.”

“I know. She did terrible things. She killed harmless little Evelyn, and that was unforgivable. She made my life hell. I'm still returning stray magazines.

“But Halley triggered it. Yes, it was wrong to kill her. But Halley almost deserved killing for what she did to Linda. That was cruel and pointless.”

“I agree,” Alyce said, “though I can't say that to anyone but you. But I wouldn't feel too sorry for Linda. She got what she wanted. It was in the paper today. Her lawyer's already had calls from a documentary producer and a writer for
Vanity Fair
. New York will notice her at last.”

“She'll be out of St. Louis, too,” Josie said. “If she takes the plea bargain, she'll probably go to the women's prison in Vandalia, Missouri.”

Alyce's phone rang. It did that often these days. “Excuse me,” Alyce said. “I have to take this call.”

She picked up the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Livermore,” Alyce said. “The meeting is tomorrow at two. I'll be there. What can I bring? Just myself? I'll see you then.” She hung up.

“I can't believe you've rejoined all your clubs and committees,” Josie said. “How can you do that after the way those women snubbed you? I'd tell them to go to hell.”

“Justin needs his playdates,” Alyce said. “Jake has his career. Those people are useful, but I know they're not my real friends. Besides, I'm no longer the boring little wife. I'm the woman married to the former alleged killer. I have my old life back, but I'm much more interesting now.”