Murder Is a Piece of Cake (3 page)

Chapter 2

Tuesday, October 23

Josie’s day broke into a kaleidoscope of crazy scenes. She focused on these fragments:

One perfect drop of blood on the bride’s white dress.

The elegant Lenore serenely stowing the pearl-handled pistol in her Chanel bag.

A trail of glistening red running down Ted’s neck. He’d been slashed by Molly the
bloodstained bride.

Ted’s injury tore Josie out of her trance. “You’re hurt!” she said. “Where do you
keep the bandages?”

Ted gently took her hand to stop her. “Josie, the cut doesn’t even deserve a Band-Aid,”
he said. “Marmalade’s given me deeper scratches.”

At the mention of her name, the big orange cat slid soundlessly under the exam table.

Josie heard harsh, hopeless sobs and saw Molly crying by the exam table. Her extravagant
orchid bouquet had been tossed on the floor next to the overturned dog basket. The
bride held her fluffy dog in a desperate grip, as if Bella could save her sanity.

The full skirt on Molly’s wondrous white dress was deflated, and her wilted veil hid
her tear-streaked face.

What was that filmy material called? Josie wondered. She had a sample somewhere in
her wedding plan notebook. Silk illusion. That was it. Perfect for this surreal occasion.

Josie felt a twinge of pity for the bedraggled bride. Then she remembered Molly wanted
to hijack Ted and marry him—and she’d stabbed him in the neck.

Lenore stood between Molly and Ted, still holding the bloody scalpel in her manicured
hand. She was poised to attack the bride if Molly moved toward her son.

The door burst open and two blue uniformed police officers ran into the room, holsters
unsnapped. A buzz-cut Rock Road Village officer shouted, “Drop the knife, ma’am, and
stand back.” His brass nameplate said
EDELSON
. He looked to be in his late twenties, but he had the voice of command.

Lenore placed the scalpel on a counter out of Molly’s reach.

“I took the weapon away from that woman,” Lenore said, and shot the shivering, sobbing
bride a venomous glare. “She broke into this room and said she was marrying my son
this morning. Of course, there is no such wedding.”

“Yes, there is!” Molly said. “I have the ring, the church, and the minister.”

“But not the groom,” Lenore said, her voice hard. “When my son refused to go with
this creature, she attacked him with that scalpel.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Ted said.

“I was attacked, too,” Molly said. “She knifed me.” She pointed at Lenore, whose carefully
made-up face was rouged with red fury.

“I did not,” Lenore said. “The cat scratched her when she stabbed my son.”

“Look at the blood on my dress,” Molly said. “That witch tried to shoot me. There’s
a gun in her purse.”

“Quiet!” Officer Edelson cried. “I’m putting you all in separate rooms so I can sort
this out. We’re using the exam rooms.”

Edelson turned to the soft-bellied bald man with the TV camera. “Cameraman, did you
film this?”

“I’m a photographer for Channel Seven,” he corrected. “Bill Madfis. Our station uses
tape, not film.”

“Then I want that tape,” Officer Edelson said.

“Can’t give it to you,” Madfis said. “You have to check with my boss at the station
first.”

“Then I’ll just take it,” Officer Edelson said.

“Go ahead. You’ll have the station lawyers all over your ass,” Madfis said. “You have
no way to play it, anyway. It’s a DCV-Pro tape. For TV professionals. Doesn’t work
in a regular tape machine.”

A coffee-skinned officer whose name tag said
PHILLIPS
herded a chunky woman in cargo pants and a khaki shirt toward an exam room.

Where did she come from? Josie wondered.

“You can’t do this! Do you know who I am? I’m Rona Richley, Channel Seven producer.”
Rona had a honking New York accent. “I won’t talk to the police without our station
lawyer. I’m calling him right now.” She held up a black iPhone.

“That’s your right, ma’am,” the officer said. “But you don’t need a lawyer. You’re
not being taken into custody.”

The TV producer was speed-dialing as Officer Phillips shut the exam room door on her.

The officer then came back for Lenore, trying to steer her by the elbow toward another
empty exam room. Ted’s mother shook off his hand and walked coolly into the room,
shoulders back and head high, as if this was precisely what she wanted.

The bride was not corralled as easily. She backed against the wall like a cornered
animal. “I’m the victim,” Molly said, her voice heavy with tears. “Why are you locking
me up?”

“We aren’t locking you up. We want to hear your side in private,” Officer Phillips
said.

“Can I take Bella?” the bride asked. “My little girl?”

“You got a kid here, too?” the cop asked.

“Bella is my Maltese,” Molly said, petting the white fluff ball in her arms. Bella
licked the bride’s hand with a pink tongue.

“Can’t see where a girlie dog would be a problem,” the officer said. “Does she bite?”

“Of course not,” Molly said.

Does, too, Josie thought, making a mental note to tell the police that Bella bit Marmalade
and started the chain reaction that ended with Molly’s bloody bridal gown.

The cop’s question triggered a fresh outbreak of weeping. Officer Phillips handed
Molly a tissue from the counter and she blotted her tear-swollen eyes.

“My mascara is running,” Molly said, sniffling. “I paid two hundred dollars for bridal
makeup. The makeup artist promised it was waterproof and now it’s smeared.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the officer said, his voice neutral.

She really believes she’s going to marry Ted, Josie thought. That can’t be.

Then a thought slammed Josie so hard, she staggered backward. What if Ted really was
marrying Molly? Josie had read about bigamists on the Internet. Some men had two or
three families stashed in different cities and their other wives never suspected.

Josie knew Ted was too perfect to be real. She couldn’t believe her good luck when
he’d proposed. She still expected their wedding plans to fall apart before the minister
pronounced them man and wife.

No, I’m the crazy one, Josie decided. Ted is no bigamist. Why would he schedule a
TV interview the morning he was marrying Molly—and ask me to be here? Bigamists don’t
invite a TV station and their other fiancée as witnesses.

This is just bridal jitters, Josie decided. No wonder, after this nerve-racking morning.
Molly really seemed to believe she was Ted’s fiancée. Where did she get that idea?
Did Ted accidentally encourage her? She watched Molly maneuver her full skirt across
the crowded surgery. A flounce trailed on the floor, sweeping dog hair along with
it.

“Watch that table,” Officer Phillips said. “Can you get your dress through the exam
room door? There. You’re fine. The officer will be in to see you shortly.”

Josie could hear Officer Edelson still arguing with the cameraman—no, the photographer.
That was what Bill Madfis called himself. “Look, dude. I can’t give you the tape unless
the station agrees,” he said. “You can put me in jail, but before I hand it over,
I gotta get clearance from the station. From the way my producer is carrying on in
that room, I think you’ll be hearing from them shortly.”

Josie saw the producer standing at the window of her exam room door, shouting into
an iPhone and waving her other hand wildly. Rona Richley’s dark frizzy hair had escaped
its clip and tumbled down her back.

“Ma’am, we’d like you in the next room,” Officer Phillips told Josie. He escorted
her into a blue-tiled exam room that smelled of disinfectant and dog hair.

Josie dropped her purse and hat on the exam table next to a plastic model of a dog
pelvis and plopped down in the blue client chair. She leaned her head wearily against
the wall and heard a low-pitched whine coming from next door. Was Molly’s dog hurt?

No, wait. That was Molly crying. The walls were so thin, Josie could hear her in the
next room. Molly’s door opened, and Officer Edelson greeted the bride. Josie caught
bits of their muffled conversation. Molly’s higher voice carried better than the police
officer’s deep rumble.

“My name is Molly Ann Deaver,” she said. “My dog is Bella Deaver. Her full name is
Bella’s Snow Fantasia. She’s a purebred Maltese. I don’t know why my fiancé is behaving
like this. You have to believe me.”

“Why would he say he was marrying another woman, ma’am?” Edelson asked. At least,
that was what Josie thought the officer said. She pressed her ear harder against the
wall.

“I don’t know. I saw that other woman when she came to Denise’s Dreams, the shop where
I work. She said she was marrying a vet named Ted, but there are other local veterinarians
with that name. I never dreamed she was talking about my Ted. There’s something wrong
with that poor woman.”

What? Josie was shaking with anger. Molly thinks there’s something wrong with me?

“Ted loves me,” Molly said. “He wants to marry me.”

Another low sound, like distant thunder, from the officer.

“No, I’ve never met his mother. How do I even know she is his mother? She pulled a
gun on me. What kind of mother-in-law does that?” Molly’s voice grew shriller.

“I—I did put that knife thingie to Ted’s throat, but I was upset when he said we weren’t
getting married today. We’re definitely engaged. See, here’s my engagement ring. It’s
a two-carat round-cut rose-gold ring. I bought it at Forever Diamonds in the Galleria.”

A short mumbled question.

“Yes, I bought it myself.” Molly said. “And paid for it, too. He’s a struggling doctor
and I have money. I wanted the right engagement ring. My wedding day is the most important
day of my life.”

Another bass rumble from the officer.

“Of course I can wait here a little longer,” Molly said. “This is just a misunderstanding.
I’ll wait here as long as you want. After all, Ted and I will be married forever.”

Chapter 3

Tuesday, October 23

“My son is
not
marrying that demented woman, Officer,” Lenore said. “She’s not fit to be a doctor’s
wife.”

Josie didn’t need to press her ear to the wall to hear Ted’s mother. Lenore’s imperious
voice sliced through the thin exam room walls.

“I don’t know that . . . that . . .” Words failed the well-bred Lenore—polite words,
anyway. “That creature wearing that ridiculous dress. I thought she was dressed for
Halloween. I’ve never seen her before. Ted’s never mentioned her. He’s marrying Josie
Marcus, the girl in the hat.”

Josie couldn’t hear Officer Edelson’s next question, but she didn’t have to. Lenore’s
answer was enough.

“No, he didn’t discuss his engagement to Miss Marcus with me,” she said. “I had no
say so in the matter. I introduced him to a number of suitable young women, but he’s
ignored my efforts.”

Ouch, Josie thought. I don’t think I’ll be calling Lenore “Mom.”

“But Miss Marcus is a thousand times better than that escapee from a lunatic asylum,”
Lenore said. “Even if she does have a child out of wedlock.”

Did she call Amelia “a child out of wedlock”? Hot anger blasted through Josie. Nobody
disparaged her daughter. Nobody. Josie gripped the door handle, prepared to march
on Lenore, when she saw Officer Phillips was planted in her path. No way she’d get
past that wall of mahogany muscle.

Josie sat back down. She’d discuss Lenore’s attitude toward Amelia later, in private.
Ted didn’t need two crazy brides in one day.

Officer Edelson must have asked Lenore another question. Josie caught the phrase “brandished
a weapon” in his deep rumble.

“I do carry a pistol,” Lenore said. “It’s a small thirty-eight. I’m licensed for concealed
carry and I practice at the gun range every week.”

Another rumble. Josie strained her ears so hard, they practically flapped, but she
couldn’t hear the officer’s question.

But Lenore’s outrage was loud and clear. “What! You believe there’s an incompatibility
with the Florida and Missouri concealed carry laws? I am in a building owned by my
son and I was protecting both of us from a knife attack. That’s why I carry a gun—for
protection. It’s my constitutional right.”

The rumble was deeper and darker this time, a subterranean earthquake.

“Of course I didn’t carry it on the plane in my purse,” Lenore said. “I don’t fly
commercial. I came on my husband’s plane, and brought my weapon with me. Good thing
I had it, too. If I’d waited for you to respond, that lunatic would have cut Ted’s
throat. And I didn’t threaten that so-called bride. I saved her from a murder charge.
I hope you’re locking her up for assault.”

A soft rumble was cut short by Lenore’s clipped response. “What? Only if my son presses
charges? Of course he will. And if he doesn’t, I will.”

The rumble sounded more tentative now.

“No, I wasn’t hurt,” Lenore said. “But I could have been. Really! If Ted doesn’t press
charges, you can Baker Act her. You do know what that is, don’t you?”

Another short rumble.

“Missouri doesn’t have a Baker Act?” Lenore said. “Even this backwater must have a
law so people who are a danger to themselves and others can be committed, whatever
you call it. And that young woman qualifies as both! How long are you going to detain
us? We’ll miss our luncheon reservation.”

The next rumble sounded apologetic. Josie heard the exam room door close softly. When
Officer Edelson knocked on Josie’s door, she felt absurdly relieved, like a patient
waiting for a doctor.

Edelson looked like a schoolboy who’d escaped expulsion with a stern lecture. Even
his buzz cut seemed wilted. Josie was tempted to commiserate but decided he wouldn’t
want to be reminded he’d been tongue-lashed by a sixty-two-year-old woman.

Josie offered him her chair. “I prefer to stand, ma’am,” Edelson said. “State your
name and address.”

She told him, then added, “I’m engaged to Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer. Really engaged. He
proposed to me in Tower Grove Park.”

For a moment, she remembered the sunlit splendor of that fall day and her sheer happiness.
Then she was back in the clinic exam room, staring at a plastic dog pelvis and wondering
if Molly’s bizarre intrusion would wreck her future with Ted.

“Do you work here at the clinic?” Edelson asked.

“No, I’m a mystery shopper for Suttin Services, but I wasn’t working today. That’s
how I met Molly Deaver. I mystery-shopped the store where she works. I gave her a
good rating, too. She’s a good salesperson. She told me she was marrying a man named
Ted. I had no idea she meant my fiancé. She must have something wrong with her.”

Two can play that game, Josie thought.

“I came here to watch Ted’s TV taping,” she said. “Then Ted and I planned to have
lunch with my future mother-in-law.”

An hour ago, Josie had dreaded that lunch. Now she longed to be sitting at the table
with Lenore.

“I got here just as that bride arrived in a Bentley,” Josie said. “It was surreal.
She marched right inside with a huge bouquet and her dog in a basket. Kathy, the receptionist,
tried to keep Molly out of the back room where Channel Seven was taping, but she forced
her way in and made a scene.

“And her dog bites, too,” Josie said. “She bit Ted’s cat, Marmalade.”

“Does the cat need medical attention, ma’am?” Officer Edelson asked.

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “Marmalade jumped off the exam table when you arrived.”

She glanced through the exam room window. “That’s Marmalade, the orange cat under
the table, curled up with the black Lab, Festus. The dog is also Ted’s. The cat is
licking the Lab’s ear. That’s so cute.”

“Ma’am,” the officer said. He was losing patience.

“The cat seems fine,” Josie said. “But Ted is definitely wounded. His so-called bride
cut him, and his neck is bleeding. She said, ‘Drop his hand or I’ll cut his throat.’
Before I could do anything, she sliced him. She’s seriously disturbed.”

“Did Ted ever mention Molly Ann Deaver to you?”

“No. Never,” Josie said, then wondered why Ted hadn’t.

“Look, Officer. There’s no way Ted’s going to marry that woman, today or any other
day,” Josie said. “I can prove Ted is marrying me. I have a wedding plan notebook
with all our information.”

“So does the other bride,” Officer Edelson said, and was gone before she could answer.

Josie heard the door open in the exam room where Ted waited. At first, Josie could
hear every word her fiancé said. Then she wished she didn’t.

“No, don’t call the paramedics,” Ted said. “I know Josie and my mother are upset,
but women make a big deal out of a little scratch. I’ve had worse cuts shaving.”

The two men gave a “we guys” chuckle and Josie silently seethed. They were laughing
at her expense.

“How long has Miss Deaver been your patient?” Edelson asked.

“Her Maltese, Bella, has been my patient for six months,” Ted said. “I met Miss Deaver
when I spayed Bella here at the clinic. I made two follow-up visits in the clinic
van to her home and the dog was fine.

“But Miss Deaver kept asking me to treat her dog for minor ailments at her home. She
said Bella had a limp. I checked the dog and there was no problem. Miss Deaver insisted,
so I referred her to a veterinary orthopedic specialist.”

“They have those for dogs?” the officer asked in a surprised tone.

“And cats. Veterinary medicine is very advanced,” Ted said. “They have ultrasound,
reconstructive surgery, CT scans, even neurosurgery.”

“Yes, well. About this dog of hers,” Edelson prompted.

“Bella,” Ted said. “The ortho doc said Bella was healthy and Miss Deaver complained
to me about the specialist’s bills. She’d spent more than two thousand dollars on
Bella’s nonexistent limp.”

The police officer whistled.

“Good veterinary care isn’t cheap,” Ted said. “Bella was home from the referral clinic
two days when Miss Deaver said her Maltese had an upset stomach. I went to her home
in the clinic van, but the dog seemed fine. She claimed her dog was vomiting, but
said she’d cleaned it up.

“Next, Miss Deaver said Bella was scratching her ear and it was infected. I found
no evidence of irritation or soreness on either ear. I took blood for tests, and the
results were normal.”

Josie noticed he called her Miss Deaver, not Molly. Was he trying to show the police
officer she meant nothing to him?

“Miss Deaver called the clinic more than thirty times in four months with imaginary
illnesses for a healthy pet. When I was at her house, she would have the kitchen table
set for a snack or a meal. I often don’t have time for lunch, so I’d grab a bite and
we’d talk.”

Humpf, Josie thought. Ted fell right into her trap.

“She liked to discuss her wedding. I thought it was harmless. I told her I was marrying
Josie and she wanted the details, so I told her our plans. She talked about hers.
She mentioned everything but the groom.”

“And you didn’t find that suspicious?” Edelson asked.

“Well, lots of brides lose sight of the groom when they plan their weddings. Josie
isn’t like that, but there aren’t many women like Josie.”

Josie could hear the warmth in his voice, even through the wall. She smiled.

“I guess you could say I was dense, but even I started getting suspicious,” Ted said.
“Bella was sick only on the days when I drove the van. If Miss Deaver found out my
partner, Chris, had van duty, she’d say Bella felt better and would cancel the appointment.
Chris and I discussed it. She said she would handle Bella and Miss Deaver would have
to bring her into the clinic. There would be no more house calls.

“That’s when Miss Deaver started following me. I’d leave the clinic and find her sitting
in her car in the lot here. She’d leave gifts for me with Kathy, our receptionist.
She baked cakes and muffins. Dozens of muffins. One day, after she took Bella to Chris
for a checkup, she ambushed me in the hall here and gave me a Rolex watch. I told
her to take it back. She said she couldn’t. She’d had it engraved with what she called
‘our anniversary date’—the day I’d spayed Bella.”

“She thought that was your anniversary?” Officer Edelson asked.

“Sad, isn’t it?” Ted said. “I did everything to help her see reality. I showed her
photos of Josie. I talked about the afternoon I’d asked Josie to marry me. I told
her how much I loved Josie. It didn’t do any good.

“I kept thinking if I ignored her, she’d get discouraged and go away. But she didn’t.
The more I refused to see Miss Deaver, the more she was convinced I wanted to marry
her. She wouldn’t stop following me.”

“She wasn’t following you, Doctor,” Edelson said. “She was stalking you. That’s a
crime in all fifty states. You should have reported it to the police.”

“I thought only women have stalkers,” Ted said.

“Men who stalk women are more common,” the officer said. “Male stalkers tend to be
more dangerous. But two percent of the men in this country have been stalked by women.”

“You know a lot about stalkers,” Ted said.

“It’s a serious problem,” Edelson said. “Our department got a grant to send me to
a seminar. Stalking is often tied in with domestic abuse. Miss Deaver has assaulted
you with a deadly weapon, so she’s already demonstrated she is dangerous.”

“What can I do now?” Ted asked.

“Press charges for assault,” the officer said.

“I can’t,” Ted said. “She needs a psychiatrist.”

“We can lock her up for seventy-two hours in a mental health facility,” Edelson said.

“That will get her the help she needs,” Ted said. “But I feel sorry for her.”

“That’s dangerous,” Edelson said. “What if she harms your fiancée? In her mind, she
may believe getting rid of Miss Marcus will set you free to marry her.”

“No!” Ted said. “That’s crazy. Josie has an eleven-year-old daughter. What can I do
to protect them? Miss Deaver is already barred from the clinic.”

“You saw how well that worked this morning,” Officer Edelson said. “You need to file
charges for assault, Doctor. She needs a dose of reality. Does she have family here?”

“I don’t know,” Ted said. “I know very little about her.”

“Well, her family needs to take steps to get her the care she needs. Meanwhile, you
should develop a paper trail documenting evidence of stalking so we can prosecute
her. We’ll need your phone records, her dog’s charts and bills, and the logs of your
phone calls.”

“I’ll get you my cell phone records,” Ted said. “Our receptionist, Kathy, will get
you the clinic records. Christine and Kathy will both testify that she’s been a nuisance.”

“Do you have photos or security tapes of Miss Deaver waiting in your clinic lot?”
Edelson asked.

“No,” Ted said.

“You definitely gave her back the watch?”

“Yes,” Ted said. “But I remember the jeweler’s name on the box.”

“That’s a start,” Edelson said. “You can also take out a restraining order, though
in my experience that won’t make the stalker go away.”

“What does?” Ted asked. Josie could hear the fear in his voice.

“Most stalkers don’t respond to treatment,” he said. “They simply move their fixation
from one love object to another. Many experts recommend that you move to another state.”

Josie wondered if they could hear her gasp through the wall. She could practically
see Ted running his fingers through his unruly brown hair. She heard him pacing the
small room.

“What! I have to give up my life and my veterinary practice because of a crazy woman?”
Ted said.

“You’ll have to give it up anyway, Doctor. If she’s seriously delusional, only death
will stop her.”