High Heels Are Murder (33 page)

“He couldn’t possibly do anything like that,” Mrs. Mueller said. “Tom is not capable of such deception.”

“Right,” Josie said. “Keep deceiving yourself, if it makes you happy. But we had a deal and you will keep it.”

“I haven’t any money,” Mrs. Mueller whined.

“I don’t want your money. But you will make my mom Maplewood chair of the Flower Guild, or I’ll put your daughter’s pedal-pumping DVD for sale on eBay.”

Mrs. Mueller looked thunderstruck. “You wouldn’t dare,” she said.

“Try me,” Josie said. “And don’t forget the Altar Society. You have forty-eight hours. I want an answer by Tuesday afternoon.”

Mrs. Mueller’s chins trembled, but her mouth was set in a stubborn line.

“What’s it going to be?” Josie said. “I can make your daughter the Monica Lewinsky of Maplewood. I can make myself a nice chunk of change. Or you can make my mother chair of the two committees she wants. You have two days to make up your mind.”

Jane got a call the next day, announcing her ascendancy to both chairs. She looked radiant, dancing around Josie’s gleaming kitchen.

“I can’t tell you what this means to me,” she said. “I have so many plans, Josie. I’ve had years to think about what I would do. Now I can make it happen. I’m going to fix you the best dinner.”

Jane pulled out her frilly white apron. But Josie couldn’t take another night of Stepford Mom.

“Put down the apron,” she said. “I’m taking you out to dinner. You’re going to sit down, relax, and tell me your plans.”

The next day, Josie sat down with Alyce at Spencer’s Grill in Kirkwood for an early lunch. Josie loved the old restaurant with the historic clock sign. They sat in a big old booth and ate wonderfully greasy cheeseburgers and crisp salt-flecked fries.

“So how was your date?” Alyce asked.

Josie had prepared herself for this question. She’d gone over her answer in her mind a dozen times.

“It was—” All her words fled, drowned in a flood of tears. Josie tried to stop them, but she couldn’t. At least they were quiet tears. Josie was grateful for that. She didn’t want a scene in the restaurant. When the tear storm passed, she dried her eyes and took a quick look around the room. The other patrons were munching their meals. Nobody noticed her.

Alyce handed her another Kleenex. Then her friend
listened while Josie poured out her hurt, her disappointment and her loss.

“Josh was my dream lover,” Josie said. “That was the problem. I was so wrapped up in the dreams of our future together, I never saw the real man.”

Alyce let her talk. She had the gift of listening. She interrupted only once, at the very end, when Josie said, “What’s wrong with me?”

“You mean, what’s right with you?” Alyce said. “Do you know how many women stay with crooks like Josh because they’re rich, hot and act like they’ll go someplace? You had the courage to dump him. And don’t kid yourself. That took courage. I can see the pain. It’s real. But you’ll get over him. I am so proud of you.”

“You are?” Josie said.

“Yes.”

“You don’t think I was stupid for falling for him?”

“I’d think you were stupid if you didn’t. But you were smart enough to see through him. You didn’t let his drug money corrupt you. You did the right thing, Josie.”

“You know the worst part?” Josie said. “I miss my coffee at Has Beans. I can’t even drive by that place anymore.”

“If you’re missing the coffee more than the man, I’d say you’re starting to recover.”

Josie laughed for the first time since Sunday morning. It was time to change the subject. “I have news about your friendly neighborhood fetishist, Hal Orrin Winfrey.”

“He’s not my friend,” Alyce said. “But I have news about him, too. You first.”

“When I took Mom to see her counselor Monday morning, Hal Orrin Winfrey was coming out of the building.”

“Anyone else in that office complex but shrinks and psychologists?” Alyce asked.

“Nope. I’d say Hal is taking a big step toward recovery.”

Alyce leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Speaking of recovery, do you know that Hal dropped off six bags
of nearly new items at the Saturday clothes drive for the poor?”

“That’s very generous,” Josie said.

“That’s what I told him. It was especially generous to donate brand-new high heels.”

“No!” Josie was laughing. “You’re making this up.”

“I swear,” Alyce said. “He never said a word about them, and neither did I. He had his wife with him, and they were all huggy and kissy.”

“What kind of shoes was she wearing?” Josie said.

“Big honking running shoes. Ugliest footwear I’ve ever seen.”

“Good,” Josie said.

Alyce chewed thoughtfully on a french fry and said, “What do you think will happen to Hal and the other people in Mel’s foot-fetish ring?”

“Nothing,” Josie said. “I’ve been watching the news. I haven’t seen any stories about Fiona or Paladia being arrested. Those two women could implicate some highly placed men. You saw Adela’s list of visitors to Mel’s house—high-powered doctors, lawyers, even a bishop.”

“Not to mention a few Olympia Park bigwigs,” Alyce said.

“We especially don’t want to mention them,” Josie said. “I’m betting folks in Olympia Park pulled a few strings to hush the whole thing up. They wouldn’t want any sole-baring.”

Alyce groaned at the awful pun. Josie laughed again. It felt good. Maybe it would become a habit.

“What good would it do?” Josie said. “Fiona and Paladia both have kids. They’d be destroyed if their mothers were arrested. Fiona’s lost her lover and her dreams. And when I think what Paladia went through—” Josie shuddered.

“So you think they’ll just walk away flat?” Alyce said.

“Probably in high heels,” Josie said.

“Finished?” the waitress asked.

“We’ve had enough puns, thank you,” Josie said.

When the waitress removed their plates, Alyce dug into her purse and brought out the infamous DVD. “Here. I cleaned it first,” she said.

“I think Justin’s diaper was an editorial comment,” Josie said. “Did you watch it?”

“No, thanks. I have better things to do with my life. What are you going to do with it?”

“Keep it,” Josie said, stowing the DVD in her bag. “It’s Mom’s insurance. I want her to have a productive year on those committees with no behind-the-scenes maneuvering by Mrs. Mueller.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your money. All that work for nothing,” Alyce said.

“I got what I wanted,” Josie said. “I’ll never have to hear another Perfect Cheryl Report as long as I live. Mrs. Mueller’s curtains will never twitch again when I go outside. It’s worth it for that alone.”

“I’d still like to know who put that rat on your porch,” Alyce said.

“It was Cheryl,” Josie said. “I’m sure of it, but I’ll never prove it. She knew I was following her and she wanted me to stop. She had a closet full of shoes in the right size. She had the time. I live next door to her mother. I’m sure she stumbled across a rat in some grungy place and tried to scare me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Alyce asked.

“Nothing,” Josie asked. “Cheryl has been punished enough. Her reputation is ruined, she has to work, and worst of all, she’s staying with the husband who betrayed her.

“I’d rather have a rat in my shoe than one in my bed.”

Alyce looked at her friend for a long moment. “Good for you,” she said.

They were halfway through their pie and coffee when Josie’s cell phone rang. It was her awful boss, Harry. “Are you ready to work or what?”

“What do you have for me?” Josie said.

“How do you feel about chocolate?” Harry said.

“I adore it,” Josie said.

“I hope you like it for twelve stores. There’s a chocolate chain that wants us to shop them. You gotta eat chocolate-covered strawberries, chocolate orange peel, white chocolate, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, chocolate up the wazoo. You like nuts?”

“Love them,” Josie said.

“You gotta eat chocolate with nuts. Part of the assignment. Oh, and one more thing. They got a little customer service problem. Some of their women customers can’t get waited on. Nobody knows why. Headquarters has been getting complaints. We’re supposed to check it out. That sound good to you?”

“It’s perfect,” Josie said. “It’s what I do.”

“Then get your butt over here and pick up your assignment sheet,” Harry said.

Josie hung up the phone. “I’ve got to go. Harry has a job for me.”

“You haven’t finished your pie,” Alyce said.

“Won’t need it. I’m shopping chocolate stores this afternoon.”

Alyce groaned. “Life is so unfair. I have to attend the Wood Winds holiday decoration committee meeting to decide the burning issue of whether homeowners can put up colored lights or white twinkle lights only. I get serious boredom, stale cookies and bad coffee.”

“Thanks, Alyce, for everything,” Josie said.

“I didn’t do anything,” Alyce said.

“You listened when I needed it most.”

“No big deal. Say hi to your sleazy boss for me,” Alyce said.

Josie laughed and waved good-bye. Harry was a sleaze, but he was her sleaze. She wasn’t a detective. She was a mystery shopper. Her job was to protect the American consumer, and she was proud of it.

She picked up her paperwork and was at Plaza Venetia by one o’clock, ready to visit the first chocolate store on her list.

Josie breathed in the mall’s slightly over-oxygenated air and felt energized. She admired the great Venetian glass chandeliers hanging overhead, the Zen-like quiet of the fountains, the perfection of the shop windows.

This was where she belonged.

She smelled the chocolate store before she saw it. Its old-fashioned bowfront window had exquisitely decorated confections, each in a paper lace doily. Josie paused to admire them, and saw a trim woman in a blue turtleneck
standing at the counter inside. Two sales clerks walked around her as if she were invisible.

“Excuse me,” the woman said, “can someone help me?”

That would be me, ma’am, Josie thought.

Why do women like to shop for shoes?

Because they make us feel good.

Shopping for pants and dresses can be depressing. (Where did those pounds around my middle come from?) Buying a new swimsuit can be downright humiliating. (Who is that creature in the dressing-room mirror?)

But feet don’t get fat, they don’t have cellulite and they look good in any mirror.

Shoes are an affordable extravagance. You might never buy a $10,000 designer gown, but you can step out sometimes and treat yourself to designer shoes.

Shoes can suit your mood. The right shoes can turn you into an athlete, a cowgirl, a femme fatale, or a no-nonsense businesswoman. In hot weather, you can feel free in flirty little sandals. In cold winter, there’s the hot fashion of soft sheepskin Ugg boots.

Here are some of Josie’s favorite shopping tips on shoe fit, fashion and the best buys from coast to coast. Some were compiled from articles, shopping guides and frequent trips to New York. Others Josie got feet first, trudging through the malls.

Hard to fit:
Josie’s lucky enough to wear a size seven. I wear an eleven shoe. At most stores, I get my choice of two styles: plain pumps suitable for my grandmother or a gaudy number in gold and rhinestones, suitable for a female impersonator. There’s rarely much in-between.

Two chains cater to hard-to-fit feet with a wide range
of sizes and designer names. My favorite is Marmi. Their stores have sizes four to thirteen, and width from super slim to wide. Designers include Rangoni, Vaneli and Sesto Meucci.

Marmi has almost thirty stores from California to Florida. The flagship is in midtown Manhattan at Madison Avenue and Fifty-fourth Street.

To find a Marmi near you, check out
www.marmishoes.com
. You can also shop online or ask for the mailorder catalog.

The shoe departments in Nordstrom department stores are another stylish place for the hard-to-fit. They carry sizes four to twenty and widths from AAAA to EEEE. There are more than 150 stores, including Nordstrom department stores and Nordstrom Racks. You can also buy online. Check out
www.Nordstrom.com
.

New York City shoes:
The name says it all—Good Choice. Lexington Avenue is the place to shop for shoes, but many fashion mavens think Good Choice is the best choice. It’s at 668 Lexington Avenue. For more information, call 212–813–9180.

The editors of
New York
magazine like Beverly Feldman, 7 W. Fifty-sixth Street, between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. They call them “giddy, colorful, there’s-a-party-on-my-feet shoes.”

For a real blowout, one of my favorite New Yorkers recommends Chuckie’s Shoes, 1073 Third Avenue, between Sixty-third and Sixty-fourth Streets. She says it’s “very high-end, very stylish, very expensive.”

Planning a shopping trip to New York?
Check out
New York
magazine’s listing of daily sales at
www.newyorkmetro.com
. You’ll find tips for sales of shoes, jewelry, clothes, household items, and luxuries big and small.

Rough up your new shoes:
You may love leather-soled shoes, but they can be downright dangerous when they’re new, slippery as an icy sidewalk. Run your slick
shoes along a concrete sidewalk or driveway to rough up the soles a bit and give you some traction.

Designer shoes for $20 to $30:
Target stores get top marks for style with their Isaac Mizrahi slings, slides, wedges and heels—all under $30. They look like shoes that cost ten times the price. But some shoppers say they buy Target’s designer shoes only for special-occasion wear. They were disappointed in the shoes’ staying power.

“If you are only looking for shoes to wear a few times to an event, then these are the shoes for you,” one shopper wrote on
www.target.com
. “Adorable, comfortable, and easy to match with an outfit. But this shoe is not designed to become a staple in one’s wardrobe, which is unfortunate as I truly love them.”

Not sure your new shoes are keepers?
Here’s a trick the fashion models use. When they wear borrowed high-fashion shoes for a show, they cover the soles with masking tape to keep them clean and unscuffed. If you’re not sure about a pair of shoes, tape the bottoms while you wear them around the house or try them on with your new outfit. Shoe stores may not take back the footwear if the soles look worn.