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Authors: Elaine Viets

Murder With All the Trimmings (28 page)

BOOK: Murder With All the Trimmings
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Josie backed out of the drive, nearly sideswiped a trash container, and barreled out onto Clayton Road.
Amelia was shivering and shaking in the seat beside her mother. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said between sobs. “It’s all my fault.”
Yes, it is, Josie wanted to say, but her daughter’s shocked, pale face silenced her.
Josie waited for a red light, and speed-dialed her mother while her car idled. “I’ve got her,” she said. “Amelia is safe.”
“Praise God. How soon before you’re home?” Jane asked.
“About forty-five minutes. We’re stopping at Steak ’n Shake.”
“Josie, come home now. I’ll make you bacon and eggs. Mike and Stan are drinking coffee in the kitchen.”
“Tell them thanks, Mom. Amelia and I need to talk first, so I can find out what happened. We won’t be long.”
“Josie, it’s one thirty in the morning. Amelia has school in a few hours.”
“See you,” Josie said. She shut her phone and pulled into the Steak ’n Shake lot on Manchester. The stark black, white, and orange-red interior seemed oddly homey at this late hour. Even the glaring lights looked welcoming. The restaurant had a handful of late-night customers. Why did normal people look like derelicts in the early hours of the morning? Josie wondered.
In the harsh light she could see how tired her daughter was, but Josie was too angry to offer Amelia comfort.
They carefully avoided the subject while they ordered burgers, fries, and Cokes. When the waitress left, Josie said, “Now, would you care to explain why you stole six wine coolers out of my fridge?”
“I wanted to catch Daddy’s killer,” Amelia said.
“How were you going to do that?” Josie asked. “What if the police caught you with alcohol? You’re underage. What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to help,” Amelia said. Two tears rolled down her pale face.
“You scared your grandmother and me half to death,” Josie said. “We thought you were kidnapped. You didn’t have the courtesy to tell us where you were going.”
“If I did that, you wouldn’t let me go,” Amelia said, with perfect kid logic.
“You’re damned right I wouldn’t, young lady,” Josie said.
An unshaven man at the next booth stared at them, and Josie lowered her voice. She’d been worried sick at her daughter’s disappearance. Now that Amelia was safe, Josie was seething.
“Explain yourself,” she said.
“I took the wine coolers to give to Heather so she’d talk to me,” Amelia said.
“Why would she talk to you?” Josie said. “She hates you.”
“But she likes to drink,” Amelia said. “It’s hard for her to get booze. Her mother was going to be out all night with her boyfriend, so we had the place to ourselves.”
“You used that girl’s weakness to get information? I’m ashamed of you.”
“But it worked,” Amelia said. “It wasn’t easy, Mom. Heather made fun of me at first, but she wanted those wine coolers. She chugged two real fast and started talking. Then she got sick. She barfed all over the bathroom. I had to help clean it up. It was gross.”
“Good,” Josie said.
“Heather started whining about how much she hated her mother’s store. She’s the one who turned the mice and roaches loose in it so it would close down.”
“Where did she get the roaches?” Josie asked.
“From the Dumpster behind the school cafeteria. She made sure you got a piece of cake with a roach in it. She thought if you gave the store a bad report, it would close. She said you got a real sick look on your face when your ‘raisin’ had legs.”
Josie’s stomach turned at the memory of the insect-infested cake. Their burgers and fries arrived, but Josie wasn’t hungry now.
“Heather nearly killed that lady, too,” Amelia said.
“What lady?” Josie asked.
“The church picketer lady.” Amelia dragged her fries through the ketchup. “Heather put on a Santa suit from the store as a disguise. She’s big enough to pass for a guy. She went up a ladder and used a shovel to loosen the snow on the roof.”
“Why would she do that?” Josie asked.
“Heather wanted to scare away the picketers, so the TV and newspaper stories would stop. She was afraid the kids at school would find out she was selling pornaments. She didn’t realize the ice and snow would land on that woman’s head and put her in the hospital. Now Heather can’t sleep at night.”
“So that old woman wasn’t senile after all,” Josie said. “It really was Santa Claus up on that roof.” She nibbled her burger. Amelia was eating her food like a famine was due in town tomorrow.
“It was really Heather, dressed like Santa Claus. She laughed her ass off when she saw that TV story.”
“Amelia!”
“Well, she did.” Amelia dipped another fry in ketchup.
“Did Heather poison your father and that other woman?” Josie asked.
“She swears she didn’t. I got her really drunk, Mom. But Heather said her mother poisoned the dog next door.”
“What dog?” Josie asked.
“The yappy dog that used to bark all the time so nobody could sleep. It kept me awake the whole night I stayed at her house. Doreen got sick of the mutt waking her up. She went to a Racers Edge car store, bought some antifreeze, poured it on a pound of hamburger, and threw it over the fence. The dog ate it and died the next day. Heather said she was glad. She hated that dog. That’s cruel, Mom.”
“Yes, it is,” Josie said. Mike has a bigger problem than he knows with that girl, she thought.
“Heather had another wine cooler after she threw up. It made her sleepy. I waited until she passed out drunk, then checked her computer. She’d Googled poisons right before Daddy died. I found a bunch of sites about how antifreeze kills cats and dogs and some stories about a lady who murdered her husband with antifreeze. I know Heather killed Daddy. She’s too afraid to say so.”
“What did you do then?” Josie asked.
“It was after midnight, and I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stay all night. What if Heather put poison in my soda or something? That’s when I called you on the kitchen phone. I was sneaking out the door when Doreen came home early. She was supposed to spend the night with her boyfriend, but she didn’t. She was in a bad mood.”
I bet, Josie thought.
Amelia finished her burger, then finished her story. “Doreen wanted to know why I was at her home. I said I’d stopped by to say hello to Heather. She got real sarcastic and said, ‘And you’re such good friends you have to see her at midnight?’
“I was trying to figure out what to say next when Heather walked in the room. She was wasted, Mom, but Doreen didn’t say anything about that. Heather told her, ‘She’s been snooping around in my computer. She left it on. She saw the antifreeze stories.’
“I said I had to get home and started running for the door. Doreen grabbed my arm. She left bruises.” Amelia slid up her pink sleeve and showed a dark blue handprint. Josie burned with fury when she saw the damage to her daughter. She wished she’d really set fire to Doreen’s hair.
“I tried to get away, but I couldn’t,” Amelia said. “Heather held me down and Doreen tied me to a chair in the kitchen. It hurt. I was scared she was going to kill me or something. Then Doreen called you and wanted a bunch of money. She saw your car pull into the driveway and ran outside. We heard you two arguing. Then you called Heather and said to let me go, and Heather did.”
“Just how did you get to Heather’s house?” Josie asked.
“Kelsey, a kid in our class, has an older brother who picks her up at school sometimes. He was out driving and saw me. He gave me a ride.”
“And he didn’t ask what you were doing roaming around alone at this hour?”
“No, he’s cool, Mom. What are you doing with your phone?”
“I’m calling the police and having Doreen arrested,” Josie said.
“No, Mom, you can’t do that. I’ll be a joke at school.”
“You’ll survive,” Josie said.
“But she won’t do it anymore, Mom. She’s afraid of you.”
“She better be,” Josie said. “Amelia, promise me that you’ll never do that again.”
“Are you mad at me?” Amelia asked.
“I’m angry that you took off on your own and did something so careless. Yes.”
“Am I grounded?” Amelia said in a small voice.
“Until you collect Social Security,” Josie said.
“When’s that?” Amelia asked.
“Fifty-six years,” Josie said.
Amelia’s lower lip quivered and Josie was afraid she’d start crying again. Their table looked like a battle-ground. Her daughter’s pool of ketchup seemed like a bloodstain.
“It’s late,” Josie said. “We’re going home and you’re going to thank Mike and Stan.”
“And then what?” Amelia asked.
“Then you’re going to bed.”
And I’m going to try to convince Mike that his daughter is a killer, she thought.
Chapter 31
“You think my daughter did
what?
” Mike shouted at Josie.
They were alone on her front porch at two thirty in the morning, and Mike’s anger seemed to echo through the neighborhood. She winced at his shouting. Her neighbors had to work in the morning. They’d be calling the police any moment.
I’ve made a mistake, Josie thought. I should have told him this tomorrow, when he was in a more reasonable mood. No parent wants news like this, and there’s no good time to deliver it. I wanted to wait until we were alone.
Stan had gone home, with Josie’s thanks and a plate of her mother’s brownies. Amelia was tucked into bed.
Mike was the last to leave, and Josie waited until they were outside to tell him what Amelia had discovered. Mike had not taken the news well. Even under the dim streetlight, Josie could tell her lover was red with rage. Mike was practically spitting, he was so furious. The muscles in his neck bulged.
“You really think poor little Heather killed two people and put that church picketer in a coma? Are you crazy?”
“Mike, please, keep it down,” Josie said. “What if Mrs. Mueller hears you?”
“Screw her,” Mike said. “That old biddy makes up half the gossip she spreads. Maybe we should move this fight to her porch so she can get the facts straight.”
“Mike, please don’t be angry with me. You need to know this or things will only get worse. Heather’s already confessed that she put on a Santa suit and shoveled snow off the roof and it hit that church lady.”
“Confessed?” Mike said. “Confessed to who—your delinquent daughter? The kid who roams the streets at night with wine coolers and gets Heather drunk? Amelia hates Heather.”
“And Heather hates her,” Josie said.
“With good reason,” Mike said. “Amelia is making up those stories about my girl. Did she really tell you that Heather put on a Santa suit and climbed up on the roof?”
“Yes,” Josie said.
“That’s a lie. Heather wouldn’t get up on a roof. She won’t even climb the stairs to her mother’s apartment on the second floor.”
Mike paced Josie’s porch like a caged animal, as if he couldn’t contain his anger. He scratched the back of his neck, then threw his hands up in the air.
“I give up,” he said.
“Mike, please, Heather didn’t mean to hurt the church picketer. It was an accident.”
“That’s real generous of you, Josie. So if the woman dies, Heather is only guilty of manslaughter.”
“I think the church picketer is going to be okay,” Josie said. “But your daughter has a problem with alcohol.”
“Only because
your
daughter gave it to her. What teenager would turn down booze? Amelia stole those wine coolers.”
“I know she did, Mike. She’s grounded for life. But this isn’t the first time Heather was drunk. She sneaked beer out of my house and threw the bottles at the neighbor’s fence.”
“How do I know your daughter didn’t give that beer to Heather?” Mike asked. “Every time something goes wrong with my girl, your daughter is in the picture. She’s a troublemaker.”
“Amelia wouldn’t do that,” Josie said. “She didn’t give Heather beer. Heather took it.”
“Oh, really?” Mike said. “So perfect little Amelia would hike miles to Clayton to get my kid drunk, but she wouldn’t reach into her own refrigerator and hand Heather a beer?”
“No, I didn’t mean that,” Josie said.
Mike had his arms folded defensively in front of his chest. Lord, he was handsome. Those muscles in his arms were natural, not built at a gym. That wasn’t designer stubble on his chin, either. Josie knew how good a slightly scratchy beard felt.
She longed for Mike to hold her. But Josie wasn’t going to say her daughter was guilty of something she didn’t do, even for Mike.
“Mike, please. I wasn’t making accusations.”
“Then what were you doing? You said Heather nearly killed that church lady. I bet you think she poisoned those people, too.”
“I didn’t say that. But I did say Heather Googled those sites about antifreeze deaths.”
“And told your perfect little darling that her mother killed the dog next door. Now that I believe. Doreen is mean enough to kill an innocent dog. And here’s my other problem: Why didn’t you take me along to Doreen’s house to get your girl? Don’t you trust me?”
BOOK: Murder With All the Trimmings
13.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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