An Uplifting Murder (28 page)

“We’ve had a minor disturbance,” Josie said. “There’s been a prowler around our house. We found footprints across the lawn to Amelia’s room.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Josie said. “Whoever it was never got to her window. Ted was staying here with us.”

“Whoa! Back up. Ted has moved in with you?”

“No,” Josie said. “His stay is temporary until things calm down. Ted is taking Amelia to school this morning and I’m riding with them. He wants to stay with me all day until we pick up Amelia after school. I like Ted. No, I think I love him, but it’s too soon for twenty-four-hour togetherness. Can I see you for an hour or so without my bodyguard? I’ll give you the full story then.”

“You can come over now, if you want.”

“I need to get my hair cut first and file a mystery-shopping report. It will be about eleven before I can make it.”

“Good,” Alyce said. “That’s time for me to fix brunch. Josie, is your romance going sour?”

“No,” Josie said. “Ted’s perfect. That’s the problem.”

“Most women would love to have your problem, but you don’t have to explain. We’ll have some food and talk. Then, if you want, I’ll call Ted in officially for his veterinary service. I can ask him to see Bruiser.”

“Is your dog sick?” Josie asked.

“No, but I’ll make up something if I have to,” Alyce said. “Josie, do you think the vandal was Victoria? She was furious when you shut down her shopping parties.”

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “Mrs. Mueller saw a woman wearing a black-and-white scarf.”

“Like the kill—uh, the woman—in the mall video?”

“Exactly,” Josie said. “And we both know that woman was up to no good. You can say killer. I’ve already thought it.”

“Josie, don’t throw Ted out too soon,” Alyce said. “The scarf woman is dangerous. The police say she killed Frankie.”

Josie heard the water shut off. Ted’s shower was over.

“Gotta go,” Josie said. “We’ll talk later.”

Josie hung up. Her mind flashed on the grainy video of the woman with the black-and-white scarf. Something nagged at her. So far as she knew, Victoria didn’t have any idea where Josie lived. Alyce had driven the day they’d confronted the shoplifter at her house on Palmer Avenue. But it was possible Victoria may have remembered she’d seen Josie before. They lived only two blocks away.

The scarf woman could also have been Rosa, whose parents were in this country illegally. Or Trish, afraid that her future career would be crushed if word got out about her drug-abusing past. Shannon, Dr. Tino’s fiancée, was another good candidate for the scarf stalker. She and her doctor lover benefited from Frankie’s untimely death. If Shannon had been cleared by the police, she wouldn’t want Josie stirring up trouble by asking questions. That made four suspects.

Five if you counted Cody the hero. Except Mrs. Mueller had seen a woman, not a man, and Cody was all man, even if he did wear panty hose. He was married, too. Maybe his wife had killed Frankie. A woman would do a lot to protect her family. If ever a person deserved killing, it had been Frankie.

Josie could hear a hair dryer roaring in the bathroom. She flipped on her computer and Googled Cody’s name, hoping to find a photo of the hero’s wife. She saw twelve stories.

She printed out every news story she could access. Josie caught glimpses of photos with the articles and hoped one included a picture of Cody’s wife.

The hair dryer stopped. Ted strolled out of the bathroom, whistling. Josie joined him in the hall. He gave her a damp kiss. “Where do I drop you after we take Amelia to school?”

“Back here, so I can pick up my car and drive to the salon,” Josie said.

“I thought I’d take you there. It’s safer that way.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me at a beauty shop,” Josie said, “except that I might get a bad cut.”

“What about after that?”

Josie didn’t like being accountable for her time. “I have to see my friend Alyce. You’ve met her. She adopted Bruiser. Alyce lives in a gated community. I’ll be safe there. The guards are good.”

“I really don’t think . . . ” Ted began.

“I’m a grown woman,” Josie said, kissing Ted on his damp ear. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Amelia will be safe at school and that’s what I really care about. I’m not worried about me.”

“Well, I am,” he said, kissing her on the mouth.

Um, Josie thought. I could get used to this.

“Then stop by Alyce’s, if you’re not on duty. You can check out her Chihuahua, Bruiser.”

“Deal,” Ted said. “Do you think she’ll mind?”

“She already said she’d like to see you.” She kissed Ted again. His lips were soft and warm and he smelled of mint toothpaste and Dial soap.

The kiss was interrupted by loud throat clearing. Amelia was suited up in her coat and boots. “Mom, we need to get going. I’m going to be late for school.”

“Right,” Josie said, pulling herself away from Ted. “Let me get my purse.”

Josie ran into her bedroom, ripped the pages out of her printer, and stuffed them in her purse. She made certain the dog repellent was in there, too. She felt ready to confront any threat on two legs or four.

She was not going to live like a scared rabbit. Frankie died because she’d been surprised. Josie was prepared to fight.

Chapter 30

“Josie Marcus, is that you? I haven’t seen you since high school!”

Josie stared at the blond stylist in the black jeans and Cheap Chic T-shirt. Did she know this woman? She seemed vaguely familiar. If it was who Josie thought it was, she’d definitely changed, and for the better.

“Donna?” Josie asked in a tentative voice.

“That’s me.”

“Wow!” Josie said.

Back in high school, Donna’s blond hair had looked like a haystack. She’d worn plum lipstick and raccoon eye makeup. Now her chin-length style was sleek. Her hair color had changed from bottle blond to warm honey. Her makeup was stylish and subdued. Two things stayed the same: Donna was still slender and her green eyes sparkled with mischief.

Donna had been Josie’s friend in high school. They’d lost touch after graduation when Josie went to college.

“You always said you wanted to be a hairstylist,” Josie said. “Here you are at Cheap Chic Cuts and trained in New York, too.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you about that later,” she said. “Let’s talk about your hair. What do you want me to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Josie said. “I don’t want my hair short but—” She took a deep breath and surprised herself by saying, “I’m tired of this look. I haven’t changed my hairstyle since Amelia was born, and my girl is ten now. I’d like something that’s not so soccer mom.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Donna said. “You have a simple cut that’s right for the shape of your face. I can make the style edgier without a drastic change.”

“That’s what I want,” Josie said, and laughed. “The same, only different.”

“Hey, that’s Cheap Chic,” Donna said. “How do you feel about highlights?”

“No, thanks.” Josie knew they’d be expensive to maintain on what a mystery shopper made.

“Follow me,” Donna said. “My station is in the back.”

Josie picked her way through a maze of mirrored stations, rolling equipment carts, and electrical cords. Skinny black-clad stylists wielded blow-dryers and scissors. Clouds of hair spray filled the air.

Donna’s station was near a row of black porcelain washing bowls. Josie sat down in a black chair and Donna unfurled a styling cape.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since high school,” Josie said. “Are you married?”

“I was,” Donna said. “Remember Tim, our basketball center?”

“The blond with the muscles? You were dating him senior year,” Josie said. “He was such a star.”

“Not off the basketball court,” Donna said. “Tim was one of those guys who peaked in high school. I got pregnant the night of the prom and we got married that summer. We were both too young. We divorced three years later, after I graduated from beauty college. We have one son, Paul.

“My son inherited his father’s athletic prowess. I think Paul will make the school team when he’s older. I hope he doesn’t inherit his father’s drinking habit. My son is thirteen. I’m holding my breath that I can get him safely through the wild years.”

“My daughter is ten,” Josie said. “I have two years before Amelia is abducted by brain-altering aliens and changes completely. At least, I hope I do.”

“The good part about this job,” Donna said, “is that I can arrange my hours to be there when Paul gets home from school. I don’t let my son hang with his friends unless I’m home and I know who the kids are.”

Josie heard that “my son” and assumed Paul’s father had little or no say in the boy’s upbringing.

“What do you do?” Donna asked.

Josie couldn’t say she was mystery-shopping her old friend. “I’m in retail,” she said, and yawned, signaling a subject too dull to discuss. “How did you wind up one of Cheap Chic’s New York-trained stylists?”

“That’s a trick to impress the folks in the flyover.”

“The what?” Josie said.

“The flyover is what some New Yorkers call the Midwest. Cheap Chic thinks we’re all hicks in the sticks. They did send me to their New York headquarters for training—for one whole day.

“I took a six a.m. flight. The company picked me up at JFK and I spent an intense day at their Manhattan salon learning the Cheap Chic style. I flew home by eight that same day. So it’s technically true: All Cheap Chic stylists are trained in New York. And the receptionist can tell everyone that I am just back from Manhattan.”

“If I want to conclude you worked at a high-priced New York salon,” Josie said, “I jump to that conclusion all by myself.”

“You got it.” Donna pulled a black ring binder from a drawer. “Do you want to look at some style photos or trust me to start cutting?”

“Go for it,” Josie said. “From the way your hair looks, you know what you’re doing.”

“I hope none of the yearbook pictures of my Farrah Fawcett mane are still floating around,” Donna said.

“Hey, you were in style then, too,” Josie said.

She wondered if Donna could make her “edgier,” as she promised. Josie had always looked ordinary. It was an asset in her job to blend in with the crowd. Maybe she shouldn’t change her hair.

What are you? Josie asked herself. Woman or wallpaper? Make the change and enjoy looking stylish.

Donna was studying Josie’s face carefully. She pulled back Josie’s brown hair. She felt the texture with her hands. She combed her bangs to the right, then to the left.

“You have a nice natural wave we should use,” Donna said. “Do you straighten your hair with a curling iron?”

“I try to,” Josie said. “But it doesn’t work well.”

“It makes your hair dry,” Donna said. “I’ll wash it and give you a silk cap to make your hair shinier.”

“Sounds glamorous,” Josie said.

“It’s not,” Donna said. She settled Josie at a washing bowl. “Scooch your head down a bit. There’s no charge for the silk cap. It’s my gift to a high school friend.”

“In St. Louis, where we go to high school marks us forever,” Josie said. “Amelia’s father was from Canada. The first time a St. Louisan asked Nate, ‘Where did you go to school?’ he told the guy the name of his college. The man really wanted to know what high school Nate went to. Nate never understood that St. Louis is such a settled town, we can tell a person’s religion, race, and family income by their high school.”