Murder Is a Piece of Cake (2 page)

Prologue

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

“Joshcy.” The man’s voice was followed by a crunch like a roof caving in. “Hwcjsh
wejing ghocinng?”

Josie Marcus was pretty sure she wasn’t getting an obscene phone call at nine in the
morning. Then the man added a wet slurp, followed by another massive crunch. What
was he doing with that phone?

“Excuse me?” Josie asked. “Who is this?”

The gulps sounded like a boa constrictor swallowing a whole pig, followed by juicy
smacking. “That was good,” he said.

Now Josie recognized the caller—Harry the Horrible, her boss at Suttin Services. Josie
mystery-shopped for the company’s St. Louis office.

Harry repeated his question. “I asked how’s the wedding going? You and Dr. Ted ready
to tie the knot?”

“Almost. It’s five weeks away,” Josie said. “What are you eating?”

“A deep-fried cheeseburger.” Satisfaction oozed from Harry’s voice. Even Josie’s phone
seemed greasy. She wanted to wipe it down. She wanted to wipe out the picture of Harry
forming in her mind. Her boss had a thick brown pelt all over his body—at least the
parts Josie had had the misfortune to see. Harry had hair on his flabby arms, fish-belly
ankles, and stubby hands. Hair peeked through his straining shirt buttons, but so
far Josie had been spared the full view of his chest.

Only Harry’s dome was follicle free. Mother Nature had compensated by giving him a
luxuriant unibrow.

“Thanks for your wedding invitation,” Harry said. “I can’t come, but I got you a present.
Wait till you hear what it is.”

“You’re going to tell me before I unwrap it?” Josie asked.

“You don’t have to unwrap this gift,” Harry said. “It’s your latest mystery-shopping
assignment. I want you to shop wedding flowers and wedding cakes for a St. Louis wedding
Web site. You can go as yourself—a bride shopping for her wedding.”

He paused dramatically, like a game show host announcing a gigantic prize.

Harry’s serious, Josie thought. He really is giving me a good assignment as a present.
Well, it is a gift. Working for Harry has been awkward since I reported that surly
sales assistant. I didn’t realize Saber was his niece. She deserved to get fired.

Since then, Harry had given Josie nothing but bad assignments. She even had to mystery-shop
pig ear sandwiches—and eat one.

Niece or no niece, Josie lived by her code. Her mission was to protect Mrs. Minivan,
her name for the backbone of America’s shoppers. Mrs. Minivan was overlooked, ignored,
and disrespected. Josie fought to right those wrongs against the average shopper.

“You want me to mystery-shop wedding flowers,” Josie said. “Do you mean all the flowers—the
bouquets and boutonnieres, church flowers, and reception centerpieces?”

“Naw, just the whatchamacallits for the reception,” he said. “The centerpieces. That’s
why this assignment is a gift. It’s easy.”

It would be easy, Josie thought. She’d spent hours deciding whether her bridesmaids
should carry bouquets or wear wrist corsages. International trade treaties were signed
after less debate.

She’d take this gift—and hope Harry’s anger had finally cooled.

“I’ll do it,” Josie said.

“Good,” Harry said. “I’ll fax you the details. I need you to start today with a flower
shop called Denise’s Dreams. They sell other stuff, but our client only cares about
the flowers.”

“That’s near my house,” Josie said.

“See? I told you it was a present,” Harry said.

Josie heard a rustling noise and guessed Harry was stuffing his take-out box into
his office trash.

“Did you really eat a deep-fried cheeseburger for breakfast?” she asked.

“You need protein for the first meal of the day,” Harry said. “I need man food. The
Carnival Diner makes deep-fried cheeseburgers. The chef used to work at the state
fair. You should try his chicken-fried bacon.”

“Does he deep-fry the patties?” Josie asked. “How does he keep the cheese from melting
away?”

“The chef takes the whole cheeseburger,” Harry said. “Meat, cheese, pickles, bun and
all—batters and deep-fries it. The cheese turns into a warm pocket of melted goodness.
His french fries are sensational.”

“They’re battered, too?” Josie asked.

“Of course not,” Harry said. “That would be stupid. You gonna go to work? That shop
opens at nine thirty. You’re supposed to be a bride on a budget at Denise’s Dreams.
At the other two, you have to say money is no problem.”

“I’ve had plenty of experience with wedding budgets,” Josie said. She and her veterinarian
fiancé, Ted Scottsmeyer, had agreed to follow a budget. But their plan kept encountering
unexpected expenses. Josie knew their wedding cake would cost about seven hundred
dollars, but she hadn’t factored in the fifty-dollar delivery fee. This job would
help pay for the cake and the delivery.

She dressed quickly, pulled the still-warm mystery-shopping paperwork out of her fax
machine, read it, and tucked the pages into her purse.

On the way to Denise’s Dreams, she passed Ted’s veterinary clinic and checked the
parking lot. It was crowded with cars, but the big blue St. Louis Mobo-Pet van was
gone. Ted was making house calls today while his partner, Christine, handled the clinic
patients.

She turned the corner and saw Denise’s Dreams. The shop looked like a midcentury bride’s
dream: a one-story white rambler with ruffled tie-back curtains and a picket fence.

Inside, the front room was devoted to flowers. The hothouse flower smell was sweetly
overpowering. A big cooler along one wall was crammed with cold, colorful blossoms.
Pink roses and blue hydrangeas were massed around the counter. On closer inspection,
Josie saw those flowers were silk.

A young blonde in a ruffled dress with blue ribbons in her hair was behind the counter,
arranging pink gladioli in a glass vase.

Behind her, Josie could see a room with snowdrifts of bridal veils. In a third room,
labeled
HAIR JEWELRY
, Josie glimpsed a blue velvet Victorian sofa and a showcase sparkling with tiaras
and jeweled combs.

The beribboned and ruffled blonde smiled and said, “May I help you? My name is Molly.”

At first Josie thought the slender saleswoman was a girl. But the harsh morning light
showed tiny lines around her eyes and mouth. Molly was at least thirty, but she dressed
like a little girl going to a birthday party.

“I’d like some information about flowers for my wedding reception,” Josie said. “I’m
getting married in five weeks. I’ve chosen everything but the reception flowers.”

“Are you on a budget?” Molly asked.

“Definitely,” Josie said. Two points in Molly’s favor, she thought. She greeted me
promptly and asked if I was interested in budget offerings.

“May I suggest silk flowers for your reception?” Molly said. “These look real, and
after the wedding, you’ll have a lasting memento.”

“I like live plants,” Josie said.

“We have a fine selection of tropical plants you can rent,” Molly said. “You can also
rent the vases for your centerpieces. That will save money, too. Let me show you.”

She plunked a heavy binder with sample photos on the counter and they paged through
it. Josie was impressed with Molly’s sales pitch. She didn’t pressure, but she gave
several useful options. Josie selected one and Molly prepared a contract.

“I can’t sign it until I show it to my fiancé,” Josie said.

“That’s fine. Denise, the owner, or Rita, the other sales associate, will be happy
to help you when you come back,” Molly said. “I’m getting married next week. This
is my last day at work. I’m going to be a full-time homemaker, the career I’ve always
wanted.”

“Who’s your fiancé?” Josie asked.

“Ted,” Molly said, her eyes turning dreamy soft. “He’s so kind and handsome. He loves
animals.”

“I’m engaged to a Ted, too,” Josie said. “He’s a veterinarian. Next week Channel Seven
is coming to his clinic to tape a pilot for his new show,
Dr. Ted’s Pet Vet Tips.
Each week, Ted will talk about how to care for pets. His first show is how to clip
a cat’s toenails.”

“I don’t like Channel Seven—or cats,” Molly said, and made a face. “I’m sure my Ted
would have nothing to do with that awful TV station. And cats are sneaky.”

Josie didn’t like this double insult, but she was on the job. She searched for a polite
answer. “Channel Seven does sensationalize the news,” she said. “But Ted’s show will
be part of their community service programming. Once his show gets going he can move
to a better station. I wasn’t a big fan of cats, either, until we got our cat, Harry.
Now my daughter and I love him. He’s funny.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Molly said. “I’m a dog lover. I have a little white
Maltese, Bella. When is your Ted’s TV show taping?”

“Next Tuesday at eleven,” Josie said.

“That’s my wedding day,” Molly said.

Josie could see she was lost again in bridal dreams.

“Congratulations,” she said. “I think you were such a big help because we have so
much in common.”

Next Tuesday, Josie would find out exactly how much they had in common.

Chapter 1

Tuesday, October 23

“Josie dear, it’s Lenore. I wanted to touch base with you about our luncheon today.���

The patrician accent of Lenore Scottsmeyer Hall triggered an instant physical reaction
in Josie Marcus. Her hand shook so much, her phone seemed to be struggling to escape.

Josie wished she could run away. She was terrified of her future mother-in-law, a
fearsome woman who looked like she’d stepped out of the society pages. A stylish sixty-two,
Lenore would rather walk naked through Walmart than admit her true age.

“I couldn’t forget you,” Josie said, willing her voice not to wobble. “I’m leaving
now for Ted’s taping at the clinic. I’ll meet you there and then the three of us can
head out to lunch afterward.”

“My son the doctor is a natural for television,” Lenore said. She never mentioned
that her son’s patients were animals. “After the taping, we’ll discuss your wedding
plans over luncheon.”

“Discuss” means Lenore wants to hijack our wedding, Josie thought. She was marrying
Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer exactly one month from today—the day after Thanksgiving.

Lenore clearly didn’t intend to follow the advice for the modern mother of the groom:
Show up, shut up, and wear beige. Josie had already signed the important contracts
and paid the deposits. It was too late for Lenore to make changes, wasn’t it? But
Lenore was rich enough to get her way—except in the choice of her down-market daughter-in-law.

“Looking forward to it,” Josie lied. “Gotta run. We don’t want to miss the first episode
of
Dr. Ted’s Pet Vet Tips
.”

“Wait!” Lenore said. “You are dressed nicely, aren’t you? Our reservations are at
the Ritz.”

“Don’t worry,” Josie said. “I always wear shoes in restaurants.”

Lenore gasped.

Josie hung up, feeling slightly ashamed. She’d done it again. She knew Ted’s mother
had no sense of humor. Her plastic surgeon husband had probably removed it to prevent
smile wrinkles. But Josie couldn’t resist teasing her.

She took time for a final mirror check. I’m way overdressed, Josie decided, but I
want to please Lenore and look good for Ted. Josie had snagged her curve-hugging designer
pantsuit at a steep discount. Her black heels were polished and her brown hair had
bounce. Her hat brim did a glamorous dip over one brown eye.

Josie grabbed the wedding plan notebook that had become an extension of her right
arm, and stepped into a golden fall day. She hoped her wedding weather would be this
glorious. She gleefully crunched fallen leaves all the way to her battered gray Honda.

Josie couldn’t wait to marry Ted. She’d never expected to marry, and certainly not
a man as good as Ted. Not with her past. But Ted had fallen in love with Josie, a
single mom with a lively eleven-year-old daughter and a nowhere job as a mystery shopper.

The veterinary clinic lot was nearly filled. Josie spotted the TV truck, the blue
minivan that belonged to Ted’s partner, Christine, and his tangerine ’68 Mustang.

There was barely room for the white Bentley that pulled in front of the clinic door.
The car looked like an elegant iceberg.

A Bentley? Ted’s clients didn’t drive two-hundred-thousand-dollar cars. Who did that
belong to?

Oh no, Josie thought. Even Lenore wouldn’t rent a Bentley. Well, she was staying at
the Ritz-Carlton. She’d been reassured to find that outpost of civilization in St.
Louis when she’d had to leave her Boca Raton mansion to set her son’s wedding to rights.

Josie stashed her beat-up Honda next to Ted’s vintage car and watched a gray-uniformed
chauffeur open the Bentley’s door. A white satin-sheathed arm handed the chauffeur
a ribbon-trimmed basket with a tiny white Maltese. A rhinestone collar sparkled at
the dog’s neck.

Lenore wouldn’t wear white satin to lunch, Josie decided. And she didn’t have a dog.
The vet’s mother didn’t like animals.

Josie forgot about the dog when a blonde in a wedding dress like a summer cloud stepped
out of the Bentley. She caught her filmy veil as the breeze whipped it across her
face, nearly dropping her trailing bouquet of white orchids. Josie noticed the bride’s
shapely white satin heels. She’d been looking for shoes just like that. Wonder where
she got them . . .

Josie snapped out of her wedding daze. She knew that woman. Where had she seen her?
The bride turned her head and Josie recognized her. That was Molly Deaver, the sales
associate at Denise’s Dreams. Molly had said she was marrying Ted today.

Her Ted, not mine. What was Molly doing at Ted’s clinic on her wedding day? She watched
the bride reclaim her dog and adjust her bouquet. Then she sailed into the clinic.
Josie followed like a sleepwalker.

They were greeted by a chorus of woofs, yelps, and meows. A white-haired man held
a gray-muzzled beagle on his lap. A woman in a lumpy red coat sat next to a beige
plastic carrier. Josie heard the cat inside hissing at the old beagle.

Lenore was in a sleek black Chanel suit, pressed against the waiting room wall as
if surrounded by savages. She regarded the hairy animals with distaste and ignored
the black Labrador who trotted past her. That was Ted’s Lab, Festus.

The Lab went straight to the bride and licked the little Maltese.

“Festus!” Molly said. “You’re so sweet to welcome your new sister, Bella.”

Sister? Since when did Ted’s dog have a sister? Josie wondered.

Kathy, the clinic receptionist, was unflappable. She stepped up to the counter and
said, “You look so pretty, Molly. Is something wrong with Bella? You don’t have an
appointment.”

“Of course I have an appointment,” Molly said. “Ted and I are getting married in an
hour. I came to pick him up.”

Josie felt the floor cave in underneath her. She leaned against the clinic counter
for support and tried to figure out what was happening.

Kathy remained unfazed. “Married?” she said. “Oh, no. Dr. Ted isn’t getting married
today.”

“Of course he is,” Molly said. “I know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride
before the wedding, but I don’t go by those old superstitions. I’ll just go back there
now.” She powered past the clinic counter.

“No! Wait!” Kathy called. “You can’t!” She struggled to raise the countertop to stop
Molly, but the bride ignored her.

Molly pushed open the door to the surgery. Josie saw a balding man with a TV camera
trained on Ted. Her fiancé looked so professional in his blue shirt and white coat.
They set off his muscular shoulders. Josie admired his glossy brown hair.

Marmalade, Ted’s easygoing orange cat, sat on an exam table next to him. Ted held
the cat’s paw and said, “There’s no need to declaw your cat if you clip its claws
regularly. Old Marmalade here likes it. I give her lots of treats, which helps. It’s
best if you start getting your cats used to nail trimming when they’re kittens, but
I got Marmalade when she was grown-up.

“Before you start trimming, get your cat used to the process by gently stroking her
paws.”

Ted touched Marmalade’s orange paw and the cat gently patted his hand. He chuckled
and ruffled her fur.

“Don’t try to trim your cat’s claws if she’s upset. Wait till she’s relaxed or sleepy.
Marmalade is one cool cat right now. See how I’m holding the paw and pressing the
toe pad gently?”

The camera lens moved in to focus on Marmalade’s paw.

“That makes the cat extend her claw. Then I—”

Ted’s talk was interrupted by a low growl from the bride’s Maltese. The orange-striped
cat outweighed the tiny dog by several pounds, but the good-natured Marmalade ignored
the dog.

Ted did not. He looked up, puzzled by the vision of a full-rigged bride in his surgery.
“Molly Deaver?” he asked. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I certainly do,” she said. “So do you. We’re getting married in an hour.”

“I am getting married,” Ted said. “But not today and not to you.”

“No, you’re marrying me,” Molly said. “We talked about it in my kitchen. You said
you wanted a small wedding.”

“Yes, I did,” Ted said. “But Josie is my bride. You’re my patient. I mean, Bella is.”

“Ted, you can’t leave me at the altar,” Molly said, her voice climbing to a screech.
“Today is more than our wedding day. It’s our anniversary. Exactly six months ago
Bella had her surgery. She brought us together. I’m not only Bella’s mother. I’m your
fiancée. You’ve visited my house at least twenty times.”

“To see your dog,” Ted said. “My partner, Christine, and I take turns working in the
mobile pet van.”

“Chris has never been to my home,” Molly said. “Just you.” Josie heard her desperation.
“I only want you.”

“Miss Deaver, you’ve been following me everywhere these past few weeks,” Ted said.
“I’ve run into you at the store, the supermarket, and the dry cleaner. I see you sitting
in the clinic parking lot. You’ve called this office more than two hundred times in
three weeks. You leave gifts I don’t want.”

“You love my homemade blueberry muffins,” Molly said. “You said so.”

“I liked the first one,” Ted said, “but you’ve made me four dozen so far this week
and it’s only Tuesday.”

“I love you and I want to be with you,” Molly said, softly. “That’s why we’re getting
married. Hurry, sweetie. The minister is on his way to the church. Time to change
into your tux.” Now she was a mother coaxing a reluctant little boy to get ready for
church.

Ted seemed too stunned to argue. Josie stayed rooted to the waiting room floor. Only
Ted’s mother took action. She stepped into the surgery and said, “Young woman, you’re
demented. My son has no intention of marrying you. He’s marrying Miss Marcus. We’re
lunching at the Ritz to discuss their wedding plans.”

Molly unleashed an agonized “Nooooooo!”

“Call 911!” Lenore shouted.

The bride screamed again, and Bella jumped out of her white basket and bit Marmalade.
The cat swatted the little dog. Molly rushed forward to rescue her pet, then slapped
Ted. That’s when Marmalade attacked, scratching Molly’s hand.

“You got blood on my wedding dress,” Molly cried. She whacked Ted with her bouquet.

Josie threw open the surgery door and ran to Ted. “He’s my fiancé. Here’s my engagement
ring.”

“Mine’s bigger,” Molly shouted, and held out her hand. Her rock was a solitaire, three
times the size of Josie’s twin diamonds.

“Ted belongs to me,” Josie said, taking his hand.

“He’s mine!” Molly grabbed a scalpel from a tray of instruments and held it to Ted’s
throat. “Drop his hand or I’ll cut his throat.”

Josie saw a tiny drop of blood on Ted’s throat, near a pulsing vein.

“Drop the knife,” Lenore said. “Drop it now or I’ll shoot.”

Josie saw her future mother-in-law in gunslinger black with a pearl-handled pistol.

Molly still held the knife to Ted’s throat. Josie stared at a single drop of blood
as it trickled down his neck.

Ted’s mother calmly took the scalpel out of the bride’s hand, while she kept the gun
trained on Molly.

The bride wailed along with the approaching police sirens.

Josie heard the cop cars roar into the lot. “The police are here,” she said.

That was when she saw that the TV camera had been taping everything.