An Uplifting Murder (22 page)

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Authors: Elaine Viets

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #Amateur Sleuth, #General

BOOK: An Uplifting Murder
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“I think Rosa’s parents are illegal aliens,” Josie said.

 

“But you don’t know for sure.”

 

“No. Well, maybe yes. Rosa mentioned that her father had had a heart attack and went to the ER at Holy Redeemer—Frankie’s hospital. She said the family was still paying off his hospital bills. Rosa clammed up when I mentioned her father was eligible for Medicare if he was in the country legally.”

 

“Money is a touchy subject,” Laura said, “especially for immigrants. Rosa is proud. She doesn’t want anyone to think she would take charity. Her family would rather pay than ask for help and they may not want to use the government. You don’t know Rosa like I do. She’s strong, generous, and endlessly patient with fussy customers. She wouldn’t have killed Frankie.”

 

“But Frankie’s brother owned a big Mexican restaurant. He told everyone that an old man named Hector Maria tried to get a job with bad papers at his restaurant.”

 

“And you think Rosa’s father is the only Hector Maria around?”

 

“In St. Louis, yes.”

 

“We have a lot of Latino immigrants here,” Laura said.

 

Josie could see she didn’t want to listen. “Why does Cody the hero come to your shop? Don’t say to pick up his wife’s alterations. He’s been your customer for some time. Edith saw him there.”

 

“He’s entitled to his privacy,” Laura said, her five words short and clipped.

 

“Your daughter is entitled to her mother’s comfort,” Josie said.

 

“I know that, Josie, but I can’t tell you.”

 

“Then let me tell you,” Josie said. “You can nod your head if I’m correct: Cody is a cross-dresser.”

 

Laura burst out laughing, then shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

 

“Then why did Frankie hand him a pair of . . . ?” Josie stopped, remembering what Ted had told her. “Cody wears panty hose, doesn’t he? Some Gulf War soldiers wore them—at least that’s what my boyfriend, Ted, said.”

 

“Ted is right,” Laura said. “Frankie cut a pair of control-top panty hose off Cody in the ER after he was shot. He told me that. But it didn’t bother him. He even joked about not having to shave his legs when he wears his panty hose. Cody is a decorated hero. He’s been my customer for years. He’s sent two male security guards to me. Cody loves his wife and son. He is too secure to kill Frankie because she needled him about something so silly.”

 

“Then I’ll have to keep searching for the killer,” Josie said. “I’ve located everyone but the blonde in the wheelchair.”

 

“What blonde?” Laura asked.

 

“The woman Alyce and I talked to when we went into the mall restroom. She was trying to get into the handicapped stall when I found Frankie’s body. She said her name was Kelsey. She gave us false contact information and left before the police arrived. Actually, Alyce and I helped her get away.”

 

“Do you really think someone in a wheelchair could have killed a healthy young woman?” Laura asked. “Frankie could have easily escaped from her.”

 

“The wheelchair woman had remarkably strong arms,” Josie said. “People in wheelchairs aren’t necessarily weak. Some are amazing athletes.”

 

“But you forgot the mall video, Josie. It showed a large woman wearing a black-and-white scarf like I wore that day going into that restroom. She was walking, not rolling, in there.”

 

“I guess it was a dumb idea,” Josie said. She turned away to avoid Laura’s lost, hopeless face.

 

Josie didn’t need to see another reminder of her failure.

 

Chapter 23

 

“Hey, congratulations, you caught two crooks,” Harry the Horrible said.

 

“I did?” Josie said. “Harry, you aren’t calling to congratulate me, are you?”

 

“Why sound so surprised?” Harry asked.
Crunch.

 

Because you never tell me I do a good job, Josie thought. “I don’t remember catching any crooks, that’s all,” she said.

 

“You nabbed them with your shopping report for Chick Flickers.”
Munch.

 

Through noisy crunches, crackles, and chomps, Harry told Josie the story: “Chick Flickers’ head office suspected a scam involving their 3-D glasses, but they couldn’t catch the employees who were ripping off the customers. So they sent you. They didn’t tell you what was going on, just asked you to take notes.”

 

“So Denise at the box office was running a scam,” Josie said. “I thought so. I took off those glasses in the theater and the movie looked better.”

 

“She’s the one. She ratted out the broad at the concession stand.”

 

“Sue!” Josie said.

 

“Naw, the company won’t sue them.”
Chomp.

 

“I meant her name was Sue,” Josie said.

 

“Whatever. Both women had to resign and return the money,” Harry said. “They got fired, too, with no references.”

 

“Bad time to be out of work,” Josie said. “Why did they risk their jobs?”

 

“Sue and Denise had been turned down for raises. They were pissed and cooked up this scam to get their own raise.
Avatar
made 3-D movies a big deal again. Sue found an old box of glasses buried in the Chick Flickers’ storeroom. They were left over from some horror movie. She and Denise sold them to unsuspecting customers for a buck each, cash only.”

 

“Clever pricing,” Josie said. “Few people would object to paying a dollar.”

 

“Chick Flickers thinks the pair raked in nearly five hundred bucks before you caught them.”

 

“What happens to the five hundred dollars when the company recovers it from those two?” Josie asked.

 

“It’s going to charity,” Harry said.

 

Josie heard a tremendous crunch, like a kid landing in a pile of fall leaves. “What are you eating, Harry?”

 

“A hamdog,” he said. “It’s today’s special at the Carnival Diner. Delicious.”

 

“It’s made out of ham?” Josie asked.

 

“Hamburger,” Harry said. “A hamdog is a hot dog wrapped in a hamburger patty. Then the chef deep-fries the hamdog, pours on chili, adds grilled onions, and tops it with a fried egg. This one has all that, plus extra-crispy bacon.”

 

“I could hear it,” Josie said. “Aren’t you worried about cholesterol?”

 

“As my granny used to say, nobody gets outta here alive. She fried everything but her beer and lived to be ninety-six. Gotta go. I’ll have another assignment for you soon.”

 

I’m some detective, Josie thought. I caught two thieves and didn’t know it, but I can’t find Frankie’s killer. Maybe I’ll have better luck finding Kelsey. The woman in the wheelchair is still worth investigating, no matter what Laura thinks. I just have to find out where Kelsey hangs out.

 

Josie was prowling the Internet for disabled women’s support groups when Amelia burst into her office. That was Josie’s grand name for a computer and fax machine on a garage sale table in her bedroom.

 

Amelia interrupted her search. “Mom, can you sign my permission slip for the school field trip?”

 

“Sure,” Josie said. “Where are you going?”

 

“The Fabulous Fox Theatre.”

 

“That old theater is fabulous,” Josie said. “All red and gold and fantastic statues. Wait till you see the twisty columns, the terra-cotta rajas, and the staircase with the lions’ heads. It’s a true movie palace.”

 

“The other cool part is we get to ride on a school bus,” Amelia said.

 

“That’s a treat?” Josie asked, then realized that Barrington students were driven to school in their parents’ cars. They rarely rode buses.

 

“I’ve already decided who I’m going to sit with on the bus—Zoe, Emma, and Rebecca.”

 

Josie knew Zoe all too well. She liked Emma. She’d never heard of Rebecca.

 

“Who’s Rebecca?”

 

“Rebecca Cohen. Very smart, likes art and acting. She’s excited about visiting a real theater. After the field trip, Rebecca wants to go to Bluestone’s department store at Plaza Venetia to look at prom dresses. Is that okay? Rebecca’s mom will drive us.”

 

“Is Rebecca going to a prom?” Josie asked.

 

“No, she’s our age. We just want to see the dresses.”

 

First a bra, now prom dresses. Her girl was growing up. Josie wasn’t entirely pleased with Amelia’s shopping four-some. “Is Zoe going shopping, too?”

 

“Yes, but Emma and I will keep her in line,” Amelia said. The little slick knew what Josie thought of Zoe. “Rebecca is quiet and gets good grades.”

 

“I’ll have to check with Rebecca’s mother first.”

 

Amelia handed Josie the phone. “I’ve predialed her number,” she said. “Her mom’s name is Golda.”

 

“Go rake the cat box while I make the call,” Josie said.

 

Amelia didn’t argue. Josie chatted with Golda, warning her that Zoe could be a trouble magnet. Golda promised to be on guard.

 

When Amelia had finished her least favorite chore, Josie said, “It’s all set. Mrs. Cohen will take you to Plaza Venetia after tomorrow’s field trip. She’ll be shopping, too. Don’t think you girls can pull anything. At the first sign of trouble, Mrs. Cohen will take you right back home.”

 

“Yay!” Amelia said, ignoring the warning. She thrust the permission slip at Josie. “Please?”

 

“Where’s a pen?”

 

The pens seemed to have disappeared. Josie searched her desk, the kitchen counter, and finally the bottom of her purse. She pulled out crumpled Kleenex, a fuzzy cough drop, and a piece of paper.

 

Amelia picked up the paper and asked, “What’s a Clayton address doing with Big Al’s phone number?”

 

“Kelsey the wheelchair woman gave me that,” Josie said. She read the address out loud and recognized it now. “One Hundred South Central. That’s the county jail. I was just there.”

 

“What were you doing in jail, Mom?”

 

“I wasn’t in jail. I was visiting Laura, my friend who was arrested for Frankie’s murder. Your aunt Alyce and I ran into this Kelsey when I found the body in the restroom. Kelsey gave me this address and phone number and said it was hers. That information is obviously fake. I’m guessing Kelsey isn’t her name, either.”

 

“But how did she get Big Al’s real phone number?” Amelia asked.

 

“Who’s Big Al?” Josie asked.

 

“Our pizza deliveryman. All the Game Piece Pizza stores in the St. Louis area have phone numbers ending with 4040. This number is for the Maplewood store. Big Al almost always delivers our pizza.”

 

My daughter knows the pizza delivery number by heart, Josie thought. No wonder she’s learning to cook.

 

“I didn’t know that was our pizza number,” Josie said. “Kelsey has disappeared. Even the cops can’t find her.”

 

“They would if she’d given them a doughnut-shop number,” Amelia said.

 

“Hey, that’s no way to talk,” Josie said.

 

“You already said the police arrested the wrong person. So they can’t be good.”

 

Josie thought the Venetia Park police weren’t smart, but she didn’t want her daughter to openly disrespect the law. She tried a small distraction: “If Kelsey knows the number for a Maplewood pizza place, she must live near here.”

 

“Let’s call for a pizza,” Amelia said. “If Big Al shows up, we can ask if he knows her.”

 

“You want pizza for dinner again?” Josie said.

 

“We haven’t had it for weeks,” Amelia said. “I’ve been cooking with Grandma, remember? Last night we had catfish and that’s healthy.”

 

“We want a large pepperoni, right?” Josie said, dialing the number on the paper.

 

“No anchovies,” Amelia said.

 

Big Al arrived twenty-eight minutes later. It was obvious where he got his nickname: Big Al was tall and so broad-shouldered he filled their doorway. If he hadn’t been smiling and carrying a pizza, Josie would have hesitated to open her door.

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