An Uplifting Murder (7 page)

“Where was the dress, if its protective plastic was suffocating her?”

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “I didn’t take time to look for it.”

“Describe this dress.”

“It was a long, red dress with a high front and a low back. It was made out of silky material. The dress still had the tags on it. That’s why Frankie came to Desiree Lingerie, to find a bra to wear with it. I didn’t spend more than a second or two in that stall. I panicked, pushed myself backward, and got out of there.”

“You didn’t check to see if the victim was alive?” Detective Yawney asked.

“Frankie was definitely dead. Her eyes and mouth were open. Her color was funny. Grayish. It was frightening.”

“You weren’t too frightened to crawl across a dirty bathroom floor to help a woman you didn’t know, but you wouldn’t stop to check on a high school friend?”

“She wasn’t a friend,” Josie said.

“An enemy, perhaps?” Yawney’s eyebrow was up again.

Josie realized she’d made a mistake and tried to correct it. “No. She wasn’t either one. I never thought about her from the time I left school until she walked into the store today.”

“When you saw that the victim was dead, why didn’t you unlock the stall door and walk out instead of crawling under it?”

“I panicked,” Josie said. “I didn’t expect to find a dead person in the stall. I didn’t want to get too close to the body. I could mess up a crime scene.”

“Very thoughtful, Ms. Marcus. But suffocation isn’t catching. Funny, the crime-scene techs didn’t find your palm prints aimed inward on the floor, just your prints going out. In other words, they didn’t find any evidence that you crawled into that stall.”

“Alyce gave me some paper towels to protect my hands and the front of my coat. I slid under the door, saw Frankie, and pushed myself back out. I guess that’s when I lost the paper towels.”

“You should be used to dead people by now,” Detective Yawney said. “The victim isn’t the first dead person you’ve encountered at Plaza Venetia.”

“That other woman died a couple of years ago,” Josie said. “She attacked me. Her death was an accident.”

“I know. I was a detective on the case. You know, Ms. Marcus, my daughter has a knack for finding four-leaf clovers. You seem to stumble over dead people.”

“Only two,” Josie said. “Here. At this mall, I mean.” Josie was afraid her stupid stumbling would land her in jail.

“Let’s talk about your relationship with your long-lost classmate,” Detective Yawney said.

“There isn’t one,” Josie said. “She should have stayed lost.”

“Were you happy to see her again?”

“No,” Josie said.

“What did you talk about when you saw Frankie after all these years—your children, your jobs, marriages?”

Josie hesitated, then decided to tell the truth. Yawney would find out anyway. “She insulted me,” Josie said, cautiously.

“In what way?”

“She made a remark about me being flat-chested,” Josie said.

He looked at the tag on the gray bra. Josie thought it was the color of slate and ashes. “Flat?” Yawney asked. “Isn’t this a C-cup?”

Hot rage burned away the last scraps of Josie’s caution. “It is, and you know it. What does my bra size have to do with her murder? This is harassment.”

“Then let’s get back to a more professional topic. Tell me about the woman in the wheelchair. How old was she?”

“Midtwenties, maybe,” Josie said.

“Describe her.”

“Clear skin, pale complexion, blue eyes, long blond hair. Her legs were hidden by her long black coat, and she had on dark pants.”

“What kind of wheelchair was she using?”

“It was black. It wasn’t an electric one.”

“Was it a lighter sports model like athletes use?”

“No.”

“Was she wearing gloves?”

“Yes, plain black wool ones.”

“Did they have leather palms, like driving gloves?”

“No, I don’t think so. They were regular gloves.”

“Interesting. Anything printed on the wheelchair? Any writing, stickers, flags, flowers, ribbons?”

“Nothing personal on it at all. It had a black plastic seat and rubber tire wheels.”

“And she said her name was Kelsey?” the detective asked.

“Right,” Josie said.

“Did she decide to leave the restroom after you discovered the body?” Yawney asked.

Josie thought she heard a change in his tone. It was suddenly harder. “No. She wanted to leave as soon as she saw us. But the other bathroom was way at the other end of the mall. I said I’d open the stall door for her. She said I didn’t need to.”

“But you ignored the woman’s wishes and crawled under the door anyway,” Detective Yawney said.

“That’s when I discovered the body,” Josie said. “I told Kelsey this stall would probably be a crime scene and she might want to find another bathroom.”

“Did you, now? You suggested she leave the scene of a crime?”

“Well, yes.” Josie was floundering for an answer. “But she gave us her contact information. She printed her name, address, and cell phone on a piece of paper and handed it to my friend Alyce.”

“We checked it. One Hundred South Central Avenue is the address of the St. Louis County Jail,” he said. “The phone number is for a Game Piece Pizza.”

“But she rolled off toward Bluestone’s,” Josie said. “She has to be here in the mall.”

“We haven’t found any sign of this Kelsey. There was no red dress, either.”

Chapter 7

Alyce stumbled out of the temporary interrogation room at Plaza Venetia like a bomb-blast survivor. Her coat was buttoned crookedly, her lipstick was chewed off, and her blue eyes were wide with shock.

Josie was waiting for her friend in the narrow hallway leading to the mall. “Are you okay, Alyce?”

“Just peachy,” Alyce said, then burst into tears. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes with her gloved hands.

Josie dug in her purse for a tissue. “Why? You’ve had an exhausting morning.” She tried to steer her friend toward the warm, flower-bordered food court. “Let’s get some coffee.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Alyce said, still sniffling.

“We can have coffee at my house,” Josie said. “Mom had another cooking class for Amelia last night. She taught her how to bake a chocolate marble cake. I’ve had two pieces already. My kid aced that exam. She’s only ten, and she’s already an accomplished cook.”

Josie couldn’t keep the pride from her voice. She was worthless in the kitchen, but her daughter had real culinary talent.

“Do we have time for coffee before you have to pick up Amelia at school?” Alyce asked.

“We have a whole hour before I have to politely muscle my way into line at the Barrington School,” Josie said. “And dark chocolate is good for your heart.”

“Then let’s not waste time,” Alyce said. “I need some medicine.”

They crunched carefully across the salted steps of Plaza Venetia as a harsh wind reddened their faces. The door to Josie’s car creaked from the cold as she opened it.

Inside, waiting for the heater to warm up, Alyce said, “There’s no such thing as a free bra. I paid for this one in sweat.”

“Now it’s my turn to be sorry,” Josie said. “I thought this would be a treat. Who interrogated you, that smart-aleck Detective Yawney?”

“Worse. Detective George Waxley. He wore this lumpy suit that kept shifting around on his fat frame like gerbils were inside.”

“Waxley was the detective who worked with Detective Yawney when I had that other problem at Plaza Venetia. Does he still have that bald dome?” Josie asked.

“Yes, but it’s not as shiny as it used to be. I was tempted to Lemon Pledge it,” Alyce said. “The wispy hair around Waxley’s ears drove me nuts. I want to do a complete make-over on that man.”

“His clothes are awful. But if I remember right, Detective Waxley is a lot smarter than he looks.”

“He’s smart all right,” Alyce said. “Waxley remembered how I tried to help you when he and his partner wanted to take you into custody for murder. And by the way, that wasn’t a problem you had at Plaza Venetia. It was murder. The killer tried to murder you, too, and you nearly got killed getting away. You solved the crime, too. He didn’t.”

“You didn’t tell Waxley that, did you?” Josie said.

“No,” Alyce said. “I practiced great restraint. Even when he accused me of impersonating a lawyer.”

“You didn’t!” Josie said. “You just said you were my representative.”

“That’s what I told Waxley,” Alyce said. “It’s not my fault he thought I was an attorney.”

“What did he ask you this time?”

“The same things over and over,” Alyce said. “How long did I know the victim? What was I doing at Plaza Venetia with you? Did you look under the door to check for a body? What could I tell him about the woman in the wheelchair?”

“She gave us bad information,” Josie said.

“So I heard. Now they can’t find her or that red dress,” Alyce said.

“We’ll never find her now,” Josie said.

“I have a surprise,” Alyce said. “While I was waiting for Waxley to interview me, I copied down the address she gave me.”

“Brilliant,” Josie said. “You think of everything.”

“No, I remembered what happened last time. If this investigation gets sticky, we’ll be shut out. I’ll put the copy in your purse.”

Alyce dropped in the paper while Josie studied the traffic on busy Lindbergh Boulevard. “You’re never going to get out of here with all those cars,” Alyce said. “The drivers are going too fast on these half-cleared roads.”

“St. Louis is still a Southern city when it comes to winter driving,” Josie said. “We don’t understand ice and snow require a different driving style.”

A speeding SUV hit a patch of ice and went into a three-hundred-sixty-degree spin.

“Did you see that?” Josie asked.

“He’s going too fast for these conditions,” Alyce said. “If there had been a car in the lane next to him, he’d be dead.”

They watched the speeder come out of the spin. “You don’t suppose Kelsey, or whatever her name is, killed Frankie?” Alyce asked.

“Kelsey was in a wheelchair, but she didn’t look helpless,” Josie said. “She seemed young and strong.”

“We couldn’t see her legs,” Alyce said. “They were covered with her long coat. Maybe they were shriveled and useless.”

“Maybe she wasn’t able to walk long distances,” Josie said. “My grandmother spent her last months in a wheelchair. She couldn’t walk for long stretches in supermarkets and malls, but she could shuffle around her home.”

“We know for sure that Frankie was mean enough to insult a disabled woman,” Alyce said. “Here’s how I think she was murdered: Frankie said something ugly. Kelsey rolled into the stall behind her, trapped her in the corner, wrapped the bra around her wrists, ripped the bag off the dress, and suffocated her.”

“Single-handedly?” Josie asked.

“People in wheelchairs can have extraordinary upper-body strength,” Alyce said.

“Then how did Kelsey get herself and her chair out of the stall?” Josie asked.