High Heels Are Murder (30 page)

“We weren’t breaking and entering,” Alyce said. Her voice trembled. She hugged Justin closer to her. He squirmed and whimpered.

“The victim’s house was broken into,” Detective Causeman said. “The gate guard said you entered Olympia Park
about twenty minutes ago. The security company confirms that a pass registered to one Jake Bohannon went through the entrance twenty-one minutes ago. That would give you enough time to turn this house upside down.”

“We didn’t!” Alyce said. “Ask Adela Hodges.”

“We want to ask you.”

Baby Justin burst into full-throated cries.

Alyce’s terror was more than Josie could bear. “This woman is not my lawyer,” she said.

“Josie!” Alyce said.

“I’m refusing counsel,” Josie said. “I’ll talk on one condition: Ask Mrs. Hodges if Alyce went inside the Poulaine house today. Go ahead, ask. Then ask her if we came by yesterday to discuss Junior League business. If you get the right answers, let Alyce go home and I’ll talk to you.”

“And if we don’t?” Detective Knob Ears took a step forward. That small action seemed like a big threat.

Josie shrugged. “Then I’ll shut up until another lawyer shows up, and you won’t get a thing.”

“I don’t make deals,” Detective Causeman said.

“Fine,” Josie said. “Then I don’t talk.”

On cue, Justin let out another furious roar. Alyce clutched him tighter to her chest, which made him cry harder.

Detective Causeman went into a huddle with Knob Ears, then both disappeared. Alyce rocked Justin, but the little boy refused to be comforted. He switched to hiccuping sobs. Alyce tried to talk to Josie, but a uniformed officer stepped between them.

After several geologic aeons, Detectives Causeman and Knob Ears returned.

“Okay,” Detective Causeman said. “Mrs. Bohannon can go. Mrs. Hodges next door confirms her story. She says Mrs. Bohannon was outside in the driveway the whole time, changing the baby’s diaper.”

Alyce looked faint with relief.

Detective Causeman turned to Josie. “You’re another story. You disappeared into the victim’s house wearing a plastic rain cape and a stocking cap. You’re going to headquarters and explain yourself.”

Alyce looked stricken.

“It’s okay,” Josie mouthed.

“Josie, call me when you get free,” Alyce said.

“Mrs. Bohannon, don’t press your luck,” Detective Knob Ears said.

Alyce pulled out of the circular drive, her baby wailing like a lost soul.

Olympia Park police headquarters looked like a mini-castle in a small English park. The inside was closer to a dungeon. The place was built more than a hundred years ago and the citizens hadn’t lavished much money on refurbishing the interior. The interrogation room was small and beat-up. Josie sat a table that looked like it had been used for drum practice. The two detectives were across from her. Detective Causeman did most of the talking. Knob Ears sat like an Easter Island statue, silent, menacing, mysterious.

“How did you get into Mr. Poulaine’s house?” Detective Causeman said.

“The door was open,” Josie said. “I knocked and it swung open. I saw Zinnia on the floor.”

“Did you go inside?”

Adela next door had seen her enter. Better tell the truth. “Yes,” Josie said.

“Were you fibbing about your prior relationship with the deceased?”

“No. I met him at the store that day for the first time. I mystery-shopped Soft Shoe.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I knew the housekeeper, Zinnia Ellis,” Josie said. “She goes to my church.”

“Which church?”

“St. Philomena’s in Maplewood. She goes to nine o’clock Mass on Sundays and works the bake sales.”

“Why didn’t you mention your relationship with the housekeeper in the prior interview?”

“I didn’t think it was important,” Josie said.

“Not important. Then why are you here? Why were you dressed in a rain cape and stocking cap?”

Josie decided it was safer to answer the second question. “I didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene.”

“Very thoughtful. But what were you doing inside for twenty minutes? You searched the house, didn’t you? Were you looking for something? Or looking to take something?”

“Yes. No!” Josie said.

“Did the deceased have something with which he was blackmailing
you
and you were looking for it? Had you been there before and were you looking for something you left behind? Is that why you killed the housekeeper?”

“No,” Josie said. She was trembling. Her words were getting all twisted. It was time to tell the truth, if not the whole truth.

“Cheryl’s mother is my next-door neighbor,” she said. “Mel had a DVD that Cheryl thought would exonerate her and prove someone else had a good reason to kill Mel. Her mother wanted me to look for it.”

“Cheryl and her mother never told us about this DVD,” Detective Causeman said.

“Why should they?” Josie said. “You don’t seem too interested in her innocence. Mrs. Mueller is convinced Cheryl didn’t kill Mel. She begged me to find the DVD.”

“So you tore the house apart,” Detective Causeman said.

“No,” Josie said. “The house looked like that when I got there. I took off my shoes and walked up the back steps in my black socks.” Josie held out her foot. “See? You can have your crime scene people check for black cotton fibers. They’ll find them going up the stairs to Mel’s fantasy room and nowhere else.”

“You’ve been watching too much
CSI
, Ms. Marcus.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

Detective Knob Ears stood up suddenly, a moving mass of muscle. “I’m glad you find this murder amusing, Ms. Marcus. We can also arrest you for burglary and trespassing. Now, why don’t you tell us why you were at the Poulaine house and what you found.”

“I called Zinnia yesterday,” Josie said. “I asked her if I could come over and take another look at Mr. Mel’s fantasy room. She said it was okay. She thought Cheryl
was innocent, too. She was right. Cheryl did not murder the housekeeper. Mel’s killer did.”

The detectives said nothing.

“I wasn’t trespassing. Zinnia invited me. We had an appointment for ten o’clock.”

“Too bad the only person who can confirm that is dead,” Detective Knob Ears said.

“Yes, it is,” Josie said. “She was a good woman.”

“So what did you do with the DVD when you found it?” Detective Causeman was back asking questions.

Slick, Josie thought. “Detective,” she said wearily. “I can’t prove a negative. But I swear to you on my daughter’s life that I do not have that DVD.”

Her declaration had the ring of truth.

The DVD was in Justin’s steaming diaper.

Josie staggered out of the Olympia Park cop castle as if she’d been imprisoned for a decade. Even the weak winter sun hurt her eyes.

The two detectives had tortured Josie for another hour, but she stuck to her story. Finally, Detective Knob Ears had stepped out of the room. He came back a few minutes later and signaled Detective Kate Causeman for a quick conference. Josie wondered if the forensic team had found her trail of black sock fibers. For whatever reason, they let her go soon after that.

Josie walked to a nearby McDonald’s, eager for modern light and sound. She called a cab from there. While she waited, she dialed Alyce.

“Omigod, I’ve been so worried,” Alyce said. “I’m so sorry I abandoned you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m free. How’s the baby?”

“Good. Justin’s asleep. I can ask my neighbor Joanie to watch him, and come pick you up.”

“No, don’t do that. I’m taking a cab. It’s two thirty. I need to get home before my mother. If she asks why I’m in a cab instead of my car, I’m going to have to do a lot of explaining.”

Alyce lowered her voice. “What about the—you know?” She didn’t say “DVD.”

“It’s fine where it is,” Josie said.

“Can I throw out the diaper you wrapped it in?”

“You’d better,” Josie said. “I can’t see you before Tuesday. Tomorrow I’m taking Amelia to the City Museum, then I have my date with Josh.”

“Woo-hoo!” Alyce said.

Josie giggled.

“Josie,” Alyce said in a small, serious voice. “Who do you think killed Zinnia?”

“We know it wasn’t Cheryl,” Josie said. “Other than that, I haven’t a clue. I’ll worry about it on Monday, when my normal life resumes.”

All the way home in the cab, Josie asked herself Alyce’s question: Who killed Zinnia?

Was someone trying to get the DVD before Josie found it? Only Mrs. Mueller and Fiona knew she was seeing the housekeeper this morning, unless they broke their promise and told someone. Or Zinnia talked.

Poor Zinnia. Josie saw her body again, lying in undignified death. Two tears escaped, but she wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help Zinnia. Asking questions might. Josie figured it was time for a little talk with her neighbor.

She got out of the cab in front of her house, paid the driver, and marched straight to Mrs. Mueller’s door. There were no reporters today. Josie wondered if they’d heard about Zinnia’s death.

Mrs. Mueller was in an imperious mood. She didn’t invite Josie inside. She chastised her right on the front porch.

“Where have you been, Josie Marcus?” She had her arms crossed over her chest, as if to hold in her fury. Her chins quivered in indignation. “Your appointment with Zinnia was at ten this morning and you’re just getting home now. You didn’t have the decency to call me. I’m not paying you to be kept in the dark.”

Josie let her have it. “You want information? Zinnia’s dead. I found her body. The police have been questioning me ever since.”

Mrs. Mueller sat down hard on the old metal porch swing. It creaked crazily.

“No,” she said. “Dead? Someone killed her?”

“I think so,” Josie said. “It looks like she was either hit on the head or pushed down the steps.”

“But this—is terrible.”

“Yes, it is,” Josie said.

“Who would do such a thing?”

“Why don’t you tell me, Mrs. Mueller? I asked you not to tell anyone about my visit to Zinnia, but you couldn’t wait to blab the news to Fiona.”

“Don’t you dare suspect her,” Mrs. Mueller said. “She’s Cheryl’s best friend, the only one who’s bothered to keep in touch since her troubles started. Fiona was home all night with her family. She’s as innocent as I am. I was here all evening with the hounds of the press guarding my door.”

But Josie remembered Mrs. Mueller knocking on her back door. Verena knew how to give reporters the slip. “Did you tell your son-in-law, Tom, after I asked you not to?”

“I did nothing of the kind! I told you I wouldn’t and I didn’t.” Mrs. Mueller asked with new humility, “Did you find the DVD?”

“Yes,” Josie said.

“Thank God,” Mrs. Mueller said.

“I didn’t tell the police.”

“No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“I told them that you wanted me to find that DVD because it would exonerate your daughter,” Josie said.

“That’s exactly right,” Mrs. Mueller said. She was an old clubwoman who knew how to read between the lines. “If they ask me, that’s what I’ll tell them.”

“Good,” Josie said.

“But I’d like to call Tom and tell him that you found the DVD,” Mrs. Mueller said. “My son-in-law deserves some good news.”

“Yes, he does,” Josie said. “You can tell him.”

“Where is the DVD?”

“I don’t think you want to see it, Mrs. Mueller. I know Tom doesn’t want to.”

“I won’t let him. Give it to me, and I’ll make sure it’s destroyed. Nothing will hurt those two precious girls.”

I’ve already committed theft, Josie said. I’ve interfered with an official investigation. But I’m not sure I want to add destroying evidence to my sins. That’s what will happen if I let Mrs. Mueller have that DVD. Should I give it to her? I’ll worry about it later.

“You don’t have that nasty thing in your house where your mother or Amelia could find it,” Mrs. Mueller said.

“No. It’s not here,” Josie said. “It’s hidden. I won’t be able to get it until Monday.”

“You will give it to me then?” Mrs. Mueller asked.

“We’ll talk about that on Monday,” Josie said.

“What are you doing this weekend while you keep me waiting?” Mrs. Mueller said.

“I’m going to get a life,” Josie said.

Josie spent Friday evening shopping with Amelia for school supplies to take to Emma’s birthday party “for the poor kids.” Amelia’s top pick was an outrageous pink feather–topped pen.

“This is sweet,” she said. She looked so longingly at the pen, Josie bought her one, too.

She helped Amelia pack her clothes for the sleepover. Then she brought out her own dress for her Saturday-night date with Josh: a black scoop-necked number with a flirty ruffle at the hem. Josie did her nails and shaved her legs, then went to bed early. Tomorrow would be a busy day.

The next morning, Josie was at the City Museum with fifteen giggling, shrieking girls. She was one of five parents chaperoning the birthday girl’s friends.

The museum was part artwork, part junkyard. Josie thought it looked like one of the dark, twisted Tim Burton
Batman
movies. It had undulating dragons at the doors and a yellow school bus hanging off the building.

Amelia and Emma loved the place. Their favorite section was MonstroCity, five stories of sky tunnels that led to real airplanes and fake castles. A joyous, shrieking chaos reverberated through the tunnels and twisting corridors.

Josie volunteered to take Courtney, Emma and Amelia to the museum’s giant curved slide. This wasn’t some lazy contraption that let you down easy. You had to achieve this slide.

Josie stood at the top of the curved slide. The kids had to run up it and grab the edge. All but the most athletic needed someone to pull them over the top. Josie
was ready to grab a girl if she was having trouble making it over the edge. She was secretly pleased to see Amelia make it over the top without help. Her daughter was a natural athlete, like her father.

“Come on, Mom, you slide, too,” Amelia called.

Most parents used their kids as an excuse to play at the museum. The dad hovering beside her seemed ready to jump down the slide any moment. Like most men there, he wore a Cardinals baseball cap, a polo shirt and jeans.