An Uplifting Murder (9 page)

“They’re small gray brown animals that look like squirrels, except for their long, skinny tails,” Fiona said. “I’ve never seen one, but our gardener has. Pedro says the night squirrels have been eating the dog food we store in our garage.”

“These night squirrels have long, skinny tails?” Josie asked. “Hairless tails?”

“Yes, kind of pink and naked.” Fiona gave a small dramatic shudder.

“I don’t think those are night squirrels,” Josie said. “They sound like rats.”

“We don’t have rats,” Fiona said. She gave Josie a frosty stare. “We live in Ladue.”

“That’s the ideal place for rats,” Josie said, unwisely. “Rats go where the money is and you have money. I mean, your neighborhood has. Ladue has those big estates, lots of woods and creeks. Rats love waterways. Everybody has dogs, too. Those bring rats.”

“Hewitt is a pedigreed Labrador,” Fiona said. “He has nothing to do with rats.”

“Maybe not,” Josie said. “But I bet the rats love the dog food you probably keep in the garage. They’ll gnaw right through plastic storage bins. Trust me, you have rats.”

“You would know,” Fiona said. “You live in the
city
.” She made it sound like an insult.

Before the rat fight could continue, Josie heard the principal, Mrs. Apple, announce, “Pamela Henderson-Dobbs!” A thin blond girl with whirling windmill arms burst out of the door. Even her heavy navy backpack didn’t slow her. She jumped into the snow queen’s BMW.

“I have to go,” Fiona said. Her smile looked painful.

“Amelia Marcus!” Mrs. Apple called.

Josie admired the easy way her daughter ran down the sidewalk. Last year Amelia nearly dwarfed by her enormous green backpack. Josie had bought her a rolling backpack, but Amelia refused to use it. Now she carried her monogrammed backpack effortlessly. Josie could see the elegant nose and the high cheekbones emerging on her daughter’s round childish face. Amelia would be a heartbreaker soon.

Josie was glad she’d stood in line to get those black boots by Alice + Olivia for Payless. They’d been fifty bucks, but they were warm and stylish. She’d found the leopard-print coat on eBay—the virtual garage sale—and the warm wool scarf and gloves at Target. She made sure Amelia was dressed as well as her classmates. Maybe better.

“Hi, Mom.” Amelia tossed her backpack into the backseat. She brought in a rush of cold air and warm energy. “Were you talking to Pam’s mom?”

“She asked me a question about city life,” Josie said. She kissed her daughter on her freckled nose. Amelia permitted this liberty. For now.

“You’re all dressed up,” Amelia said. “Did you go mystery-shopping?”

“At Desiree Lingerie at Plaza Venetia,” Josie said, “with your aunt Alyce.” Alyce was an honorary aunt. “We bought bras.”

“Cool.”

“Not really. A woman from my high school came into the shop, insulted me like she used to when I went to school with her, and wound up dead in the restroom.”

“That will teach her,” Amelia said.

“This isn’t funny,” Josie said. “I found her body.”

“Sorry.” Amelia looked contrite.

“Alyce and I spent most of the day with the police. I’m free. Alyce was upset, so I took her home for coffee and your marble cake. She said you’re an amazing cook.”

“It was good cake,” Amelia said. She waved to her friend Emma as Josie inched down the school driveway. Her nightmare was that a careless student would dash in front of her car.

“How’s Harry?” Amelia asked.

“Hungry,” Josie said. “But he’s always hungry.”

“I’ll feed him as soon as we get home,” Amelia said.

“And clean his litter box,” Josie said.

“Aw, Mom. Do I have to?”

“Only if you want to keep your cat,” Josie said. “You know the deal.”

Amelia had promised she’d do anything to have a cat. She’d kept that promise for about four weeks. Now she was shirking litter box duty.

“It’s disgusting,” Amelia said.

“Lots of cute creatures are disgusting. I should know. I changed your diapers.”

“But I’ve outgrown that,” Amelia said.

“You’re almost a grown-up. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s time you were fitted for a bra.”

“I figured we’d have this conversation soon,” Amelia said. “I’ve been wearing two undershirts, a blouse, and a sweater to hide the speed bumps.”

Josie let those last words go.

“I know the kind of bra I want. I tore the picture out of a magazine.” Amelia turned around and unzipped a pocket in her backpack. “Here.”

“Honey, let’s wait till we’re at a stoplight. I’m trying to drive. And put your seat belt back on.”

Two miles later, Josie examined the ad for Alexander Wang underwear. To Josie, the gray cotton “athletic inspired” bras and boy shorts looked almost as ugly as her old training bra.

She searched for something positive to say.

Amelia misread her hesitation. “I know seventy-two dollars is a lot to pay for a bra. But you’re good at finding bargains and knockoffs. We could get something that looks like these.”

“Don’t you want something lacy and pretty?” Josie asked.

“Satin and frills are kind of old—”

“Fashioned?” Josie said.

“Lady,” Amelia said.

“Oh,” Josie said. Her sophisticated steel gray bra had been mauled by Detective Yawney. Now it was dissed by her daughter. “You don’t like lace?”

“Maybe when I’m older.” Amelia forced a smile.

She’s trying to make me feel better, Josie thought. That makes me feel worse. I need to remember this isn’t about me. It’s about giving my daughter the bra she wants and needs. First I shied away from getting Amelia something sexy. Now, when she doesn’t want lace, I’m disappointed.

“I’m sure the shop will have something you like,” Josie said. “Let’s go tomorrow after school. Is there anything you want to know about why your body is changing?”

“Is this where I get the sex talk?” Amelia asked. “I already know the basics and the words: ‘penis,’ ‘vagina.’ The guy puts it in, and the girl likes it.”

“When the time is right, when you’re in love, and when you’re married,” Josie added. “Babies need two parents.”

Amelia had been conceived in love, but not in wedlock. Josie regretted the circumstances, but not her daughter.

“And you need protection to prevent the babies,” Amelia said. “I know about birth control and the free pass.”

“What free pass?”

“You can’t get pregnant the first time you have sex,” Amelia said.

“Who told you about the free pass?” Josie asked.

“Zoe,” Amelia said.

“Figures,” Josie said. Zoe was the class’s fount of misinformation, the first girl to try everything from alcohol to junior-hooker outfits.

“You know what you call a girl who believes in the free pass?” Josie asked.

“A slut?” Amelia asked in a small voice.

“Pregnant,” Josie said.

Chapter 9

The phone was ringing.

The shrill sound destroyed Josie’s deep sleep. She crawled into consciousness like a drowning woman dragging herself onto shore. Josie reached for her bedside phone, found the receiver, and croaked, “Hello.”

“Josie? Josie Marcus?” The voice was a woman’s, frantic and frightened. “It’s Laura.”

“Laura who?” the befuddled Josie asked.

“Laura Ferguson. Mrs. Hayes. Your old gym teacher.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“Did I wake you up?” Laura asked.

“No, I shouldn’t have been asleep.” Josie sat up in bed and checked the clock: eleven a.m. She’d lost the entire morning.

Last night had been difficult. She’d made hot chocolate and talked with Amelia about pregnancy and sexual myths, stepping around the subjects as carefully as if she’d landed in a nest of alligators. Josie thought she’d navigated the treacherous sex swamp fairly well. A chastened Amelia now knew there was no “free pass” and that Zoe’s information was dangerously inaccurate.

After the talk, Josie had fixed her daughter her favorite meal of burgers with no pickles. Then they’d finished the last of the marble cake, while Josie added generous helpings of praise for Amelia’s cooking abilities. Hamburgers and cake weren’t the most nutritious meal, but Josie thought Amelia needed comfort food on a cold night. So had she, for that matter.

Amelia had helped clear the table without complaint, a good gauge of her mood. Then they played with Harry, dragging a catnip toy around the kitchen while the cat pounced and rolled on it.

About eight that night, Amelia had retired to her room to IM her friend Emma. Harry followed like a puppy and curled next to her by the computer. Josie filled out her report on Desiree Lingerie and faxed it to Suttin Services.

Josie had made sure Amelia was tucked into bed, then spent a nearly sleepless night, tormented by maternal fears and flashbacks of the murdered woman’s face. Frankie’s silent scream echoed in Josie’s mind, a plea for help that would never come.

She had fallen asleep as a drab dawn rudely poked through the window. Josie slept through the alarm, then awoke at 7:12. She’d hustled Amelia into her clothes, fed her child and her cat, and hurried to the car. There hadn’t been time for coffee.

Josie had delivered Amelia to the Barrington School with two minutes to spare, then carefully made her way home on the slippery streets. Once inside, Josie thought she’d lie down for a minute. She’d been asleep until Laura Ferguson called.

“Josie, you have to help me.” Laura’s voice was hoarse with desperation. “I think the police are going to arrest me.”

“You? Why?”

“I’m the most likely suspect for Frankie’s murder. They have a video.”

“They caught you killing Frankie on camera?” Josie voice rose to a shriek. Harry peeked in the bedroom door, ears up and alert.

“Not quite, but it looks bad. I didn’t do it, Josie. I wished her dead a thousand times, but I would never kill her. I’m over that now.”

“Tell me what happened,” Josie said. Harry, satisfied there was no crisis, settled next to Josie on the bed for an ear scratch.

“I can’t go into it on the phone. I’m at the shop. I need a big favor. Can you meet me at Plaza Venetia to talk?”

“Sure,” Josie said. “I wanted to bring Amelia in for a fitting this afternoon. It’s time for her first bra.”

There was a long hesitation. “Bring her in, of course. I’ll be happy to help. If I’m still here. But I need to talk to you privately. This topic isn’t fit for a young woman’s ears.”

“I can come over now. We could have lunch or coffee,” Josie said.

“My break is at twelve fifteen. Lunch is my treat. I’ll meet you at the Venetian Coffee Bar in the food court.”

Josie fortified herself with coffee before she went for coffee, a move that was redundant but necessary. She couldn’t face the cold morning again without hot caffeine. While she drank her first cup of the day, Harry curled next to her on the couch, shedding companionably on her brown sweater.

“At least I’m learning to wear cat-colored clothes,” she told the cat. Harry gently bumped her elbow, asking for another scratch.

Plaza Venetia was a self-contained world, tropically warm and inviting. When Josie arrived at the coffee bar at 12:10, Laura was waiting. The shop manager was still large, but Laura now seemed collapsed at her core. Her eyelids were red from crying and her nose was raw.