Murder Is a Piece of Cake (5 page)

Chapter 6

Tuesday, October 23

“I need to stop by my place right away, Ted,” Josie said. “Before I take you back
to your car.”

Josie was pacing outside the Ritz, waiting for the valet to return with her car. The
droopy-brimmed hat made it hard to see Ted. She took it off and held it by the brim.

“Any time,” Ted said. “I like your mom. You seem worried. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want Jane hearing some twisted version of the scene at the clinic today,”
Josie said.

“Dr. Chris and Kathy won’t talk,” Ted said.

“Maybe not, but the waiting room was crowded. You can’t believe what the local gossips
will do to that juicy story.”

“Call her now,” Ted said.

“No way I can explain that on the phone,” Josie said. “Besides, Mom won’t believe
you’re safe until she personally inspects you for damage.”

The tinny notes of “Here Comes the Bride” sounded from Josie’s purse.

“You come with your own entrance music now?” Ted asked.

Josie looked embarrassed. “Amelia reprogrammed my cell phone to play the ‘Wedding
March.’” She fished her phone out of her purse and said, “Hi, Mom. What’s wrong? Is
Amelia hurt? Why are you crying?”

Ted hovered close by, looking concerned. Josie tried to give him both sides of their
conversation.

“Good. She’s safe,” Josie said. “Thanks for picking her up at school. No, Mom, Ted
didn’t have his throat slashed by a crazy lady.”

Ted’s eyes widened.

“He’s fine. Well, she did cut him, but it was tiny. Really. He wasn’t hurt at all.
We’ve just finished lunch. He couldn’t eat if his throat was cut. We’re on our way
to see you now. You can check him out yourself.

“Is our wedding off? Of course not,” Josie said. She tried to laugh, but it sounded
high-pitched and fake.

“Who told you that? It was Mrs. Mueller, wasn’t it?” Josie sighed. “That interfering
old bat never gets anything right. No, Mom, Ted is
not
engaged to another woman. He’s never been engaged to anyone, not since he graduated
from vet school.”

Ted nodded his agreement.

“Yes, that part is true. A bride in a Bentley pushed her way into his clinic this
morning. She was wearing a wedding dress, carrying a bouquet and a dog. She interrupted
Ted’s TV taping. Her name is Molly and she announced that she was marrying Ted, but
she isn’t. Ted didn’t know anything about that wedding. Their romance existed only
in her head.”

Josie took another deep breath.

“Yes, Mom, that’s right. The poor woman is unbalanced. She does need your prayers.
The police took her away. No, they didn’t take her to a psychiatric hospital. She
was arrested for second-degree assault. Who’d she assault? Ted. But it’s just a scratch.
He’s okay, Mom. Really.”

The conversation was back where it started. Josie saw the valet driving her rattling
Honda. Her old car trailed a sleek black Porsche and a shining navy Cadillac. Ted
paid the valet while Josie said, “We’re on our way, Mom. We’ll be home in ten minutes.”

The valet opened the dented door to Josie’s beater as if it were a luxury car. She
tossed her wide-brimmed hat in the back and sank gratefully into the driver’s seat.

“I gather there’s trouble,” Ted said as Josie drove toward her home on Phelan Street.

“Mrs. Mueller got to Mom first with a wild tale that your throat was slashed by your
other fiancée.”

Ted groaned. “Maybe Festus and I should hide under my desk at the clinic,” he said.

“Don’t underestimate Mom,” Josie said. “She’ll have that rumor straightened out in
no time—once she confirms you’re well. We’re almost home.”

Maplewood was more than a hundred years old, an inner-ring suburb of St. Louis with
generous two- and three-story homes, shady yards made for children to play in, and
front porches where people could rock and relax. The late-fall sun was kind to the
old homes. It gave the timeworn brick on the two-story Marcus flat a rosy glow.

Jane was outside in the front yard, her face pink with exertion.

“Look at your mom trying to drag those huge pots onto her porch,” Ted said. “What’s
she going to plant in them—oak trees?”

“Mums,” Josie said. “She and Mrs. Mueller outdo themselves with their fall-flower
displays.”

“Those pots are as big as beer kegs,” Ted said. “Hurry up, Josie, before she hurts
herself.”

He didn’t wait for Josie to parallel park. As soon as she stopped the car to back
it into place, Ted leaped out and ran up the walkway.

Josie didn’t have to hear his conversation with Jane. She could see it. Her fiancé
gave Jane a quick hug, then pried the first pot out of her hands and carried it up
the porch steps as if it were foam rubber. Jane tried to carry the other end. Ted
shooed her away, then picked up the second pot.

Josie’s car seemed safely parked, but she got out to make sure the back bumper didn’t
cross the boundary of Mrs. Mueller’s yard. Their troublesome neighbor believed she
owned the street in front of her home and yelled at anyone who dared park in “her”
area.

Mrs. M was planted on her porch, arms on her hips, glaring at Josie. From the way
her head was tilted, Josie thought Mrs. M was also trying to eavesdrop on Jane and
Ted. She locked her car door and heard her mother say, “Well, there is a bag of potting
soil, Ted.”

“Your car’s in the garage, right?” he said. “I’ll go get it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jane protested, but not too much. Josie thought her mother
looked pleased.

Amelia came around from the garage, balancing a cardboard box of bronze mums. Josie’s
daughter was tall for her age. Her flat little-girl’s body was rounding into womanly
curves. Her personality was changing, too, and not always for the better. Josie was
glad Amelia still wanted to help her grandmother.

“Those mums will look good on Grandma’s porch,” Josie said.

Amelia shrugged. “Whatever,” she said. “Are you still going to marry Ted after he
got engaged to that other woman?”

Mrs. Mueller, digging in her own freshly potted yellow mums, froze like a forest deer,
then swiveled her iron gray helmet head toward Josie to listen better.

Josie blasted back her answer. “Ted
isn’t
engaged to anyone but me,” she said. “He’s not going to marry that demented woman,
AND I WISH PEOPLE WOULD QUIT SPREADING FALSE RUMORS!”

Mrs. M backed away from her mums, squeezed through her front door, and slammed it.
Josie heard the lock click.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to beast me,” Amelia said. Her lip trembled.

Beast? Josie wondered. Oh, right. She had been screaming.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wasn’t yelling at you,” Josie said. “That was for Mrs. M’s
benefit. She’s the one spreading that rumor and she upset Grandma.”

“Her,” Amelia said. “Nosy b—” She saw her mother’s frown and said, “Uh, person.”

“Good catch,” Josie said.

Ted hurried past them lugging a forty-pound bag of topsoil as if it weighed half that.
“Hi, Amelia,” he called as he ran up the porch steps.

“Put that bag next to the pots, Ted,” Jane said. “And that’s enough work. You’re coming
inside so I can look at that cut.”

“It’s nothing,” Ted said. “I’ve already checked it.”

“You’re an animal doctor,” Jane said. “You need an expert. That’s me. Upstairs to
my flat, and if you’re good, you can have chocolate chip cookies.”

“Never turn those down,” Ted said, and raced up the stairs two at a time. Amelia ran
behind him. Josie moved a little slower. Her feet hurt in those high heels.

Jane’s pale green living room was so clean, it made Josie feel guilty. She could see
the vacuum cleaner tracks in the wall-to-wall carpet and smell the lemon polish. The
magazines were lined up precisely next to the TV clicker on the dust-free coffee table.
Jane’s shih tzu, Stuart Little, barked a greeting.

Ted started to scratch the dog’s ears, when Jane commanded, “In the kitchen and unbutton
your shirt.”

“But—,” Ted said.

Josie hurried into her mother’s kitchen. Ted was seated in a chair with Jane hovering
over him. Amelia was crunching cookies at the table. The air was perfumed with fresh
coffee.

“No cookies until I look at that cut,” Jane said. She had an open first-aid kit on
the counter. “Just as I thought. This wound wasn’t cleaned properly.” She tore open
an alcohol wipe and gently dabbed at Ted’s neck.

“Ow!” he said.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she said. “Big strong man like you. You carried those heavy
pots, so you can put up with this.” She squeezed a drop of medicated ointment on a
Q-tip, applied it to the cut, then covered the wound with a Band-Aid.

Despite his protests, Ted seemed pleased by Jane’s fussing. Josie realized his own
mother had never even looked at the cut. Lenore had been too busy swanning in front
of the TV cameras.

“There,” Jane said. “Much better. Now tell me about this terrible business.”

Josie did while Ted sipped coffee and munched cookies. When she finished, Jane said,
“Goodness.” Jane never used four-letter words, so this was extreme disapproval for
her. “Amazing,” Amelia said, finishing yet another cookie. Josie had lost count at
six.

“At least that Molly won’t be bothering you anymore,” Jane said. “What are the latest
plans for the wedding, Josie? I need to know, since I’m meeting with you and Ted’s
mother tomorrow.”

“Can I turn on the TV?” Amelia interrupted.

Amelia was bored by the constantly changing details. So was Josie, but she didn’t
dare admit it. She told Jane about Lenore’s offer to hire a string quartet for the
wedding and left out her attempted takeover of the reception music. No point giving
Jane ammunition.

“Mom!” Amelia shouted from the living room. “Ted’s mother is going to be on TV.”

“What?” Ted, Josie, and Jane stood up and sprinted for the living room. They arrived
to see Molly Ann Deaver weeping before the camera.

“That’s your crazy bride?” Jane said. “She looks normal to me.”

“She isn’t,” Josie said. “She—”

Josie stopped, shocked speechless when the announcer said, “Channel Seven has a special
report at five p.m. about the double-brided doctor and his pistol-packing mama.”

Then Lenore Scottsmeyer Hall smiled and pointed her pearl-handled pistol straight
at the screen.

Chapter 7

Tuesday, October 23

“Yes, Your Honor, he left me at the altar.” Molly Deaver, a snowstorm of white satin
and silk illusion, wept scenically for the TV camera—and Judge Fletcher Hornsby.

The judge was a dried-up seventy with a fluff of white hair like a rooster comb. Only
his black robes gave him majesty. He peered over the top of the high oak bench like
a hungry chicken looking over a fence at feeding time. His small eyes glittered while
he surveyed the bride.

Josie, Ted, and Jane stood silent in front of the television in Jane’s living room,
Stuart Little next to them. They knew they were watching a disaster.

“That’s your bridezilla?” Jane said. “She seems sweet.”

“She’s not,” Josie said. “But she’s delivering an Academy Award–winning performance
as an abandoned bride.”

“How did she get on TV already?” Ted asked. “And why isn’t she wearing a jumpsuit
to enter a plea?”

“There’s your answer sitting at the table. Renzo Fischer,” Josie said. “She must have
called the best lawyer in St. Louis. Renzo has a real talent for getting around the
rules.”

“Fresh wedding dress,” Amelia said from the couch. “You should get one like it, Mom.”

“Be quiet, Amelia,” Josie said, then instantly felt bad. “I’m sorry, honey. But this
crazy woman is trying to wreck our lives.”

Josie tried to hug her daughter, but Amelia shook her off. “Whatever,” she said. “If
you ask me, you’re the crazy one.”

“I agree with Amelia, dear,” Jane said. She moved behind a green armchair, as if it
were a shield. “Not about the dress,” she added, quickly. “Ruffles are not your style.
But that Molly bride seems surprisingly sane.”

“I know she does, Mom,” Josie said. “That’s the problem. I hope the TV station will
show the crazy stuff she did at the clinic.”

“What about Ted?” Jane said. “That station should have interviewed you.”

“They did,” Ted said. “I sounded like an idiot. This will be a massacre.”

Josie’s heart went
ka-chunk
. Ted was right, she thought. Even if Rona showed Molly with the scalpel at Ted’s
neck, the viewers had already seen her looking sweet as a six-tiered wedding cake.

The horror show continued to unfold in the courtroom with mournful Molly. “And—and
he said I was crazy, too,” she said, soft and wounded.

Judge Hornsby straightened his scrawny shoulders and said, “He did? A pretty little
thing like you!”

“Oh, thank you, Your Honor.” Molly batted her eyes at the dried-up judge and squeezed
out more tears.

“You’ve made me feel like a woman again,” Molly said. “It helps that an important
gentleman such as yourself thinks I’m attractive.”

Her lawyer was beaming like a proud parent at a school play.

Ted groaned.

“Any man who doesn’t think you’re beautiful is insane,” the judge said. “You are charged
with a second-degree felony assault.”

“No!” Molly said. Her eyes widened dramatically.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Judge Hornsby said. “I cannot reduce the charges. Only the prosecutor
can do that. You did cut a man with a scalpel.” He chuckled, as if a knife attack
were adorable.

Josie yelled at the TV screen. “She drew blood!”

“Not that much,” Ted said.

“Any blood is too much,” Jane said.

“Hey, everybody, I can’t hear with you talking,” Amelia said.

Molly was still explaining her attack on Ted to the judge. “I did cut him, Your Honor.
I was so upset. It was only a little cut.”

“How do you plead, Miss Deaver?” the judge asked.

She looked at Renzo. The little lawyer nodded.

“Not guilty,” she said, her voice sweet and firm.

“Your Honor, may I say something else?” Molly asked.

The judge nodded gently.

“Ted’s mother went crazy and pulled a gun out of her purse—an actual gun—and threatened
to shoot me. I would never hurt Ted. You understand, don’t you?”

“I certainly do,” the judge said, eyes twinkling.

“Gag me,” Josie said to the TV.

“Mom!” Amelia said. “How can I find out what happened if you keep talking?”

“This isn’t what happened,” Josie said.

“Josie, please,” her mother said. “We have to hear what she’s saying. That way we’ll
know how to answer her lies.”

Brave Molly had switched to another mode—righteous indignation. “Do you know what
happened next, Your Honor? After Ted left me on our wedding day and my mother-in-law
tried to shoot me? They both went to lunch at the Ritz with the Other Woman.”

Josie shrieked so loud that Stuart Little yelped. “The Other Woman! How did I get
to be the Other Woman?”

“Sh!” Jane said. “I want to hear this.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t marry him, Miss Deaver,” the judge said. “I have to send
the case to trial, since this Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer has pressed charges.” His lip curled
at Ted’s name. “But I’m releasing you on your own recognizance.”

“Oh, thank you, Your Honor. You’ve saved me and my baby.”

“She’s got a baby?” Amelia asked.

“A dog,” Josie said.

“Miss Deaver, there’s one more thing you must do,” the judge said.

“Anything, Your Honor.”

“Find a man worthy of you!” The judge banged his gavel.

The camera left Molly smiling bravely through her tears, and moved outside the courtroom
to a TV reporter with a red suit and a blond bubble of hair. “This is Wendy Lee Chase,
Channel Seven news, reporting live at the courthouse,” she said. “We just heard Judge
Fletcher Hornsby. The judge believes that Miss Molly Ann Deaver was left at the altar
by Rock Road Village veterinarian Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer. Dr. Scottsmeyer claims he was
attacked by Molly.”

Claims? Josie’s heart dropped like a rock out of a skyscraper window. The TV station
had turned on Ted.

“I have an exclusive interview with Molly, the abandoned bride,” Wendy Lee said.

A commercial for a floor mop flashed on the screen, but Josie, Ted, and Jane didn’t
see the woman dancing with delight while cleaning her floors. Ted plopped down next
to Amelia.

“This couldn’t get any worse,” he said.

Josie tried to rub the tension knots out of his shoulders. “It’s a smear,” she said.

Jane gave him a reassuring hug. Stuart Little licked his hand, and Ted scratched the
dog’s chin.

“It’s not so bad,” Amelia said. “It makes Ted look studly.”

The show returned to Molly, seated on a pale peach couch, wearing a soft blue dress
with a lace collar. Wendy Lee Chase sat across from her, oozing sympathy. “We’re here
with Molly Ann Deaver in her home,” Wendy Lee said. “She was left at the altar this
morning by Rock Road Village veterinarian Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer. Molly expected to be
Mrs. Scottsmeyer by this time today. Instead, she’s facing felony assault charges.
Can you tell us what happened, Molly?”

Molly managed a mournful smile. “About six months ago, I took Bella, my Maltese, to
Ted’s Rock Road Village clinic to be spayed,” she said.

The camera focused on the little white dog asleep on Molly’s lap.

“I spayed her because I am a responsible mommy,” Molly said. “After Bella’s operation,
I called the clinic and asked Ted to come to my home in the St. Louis Mobo-Pet van
for her checkup. I didn’t want to stress Bella by taking her out so soon. Ted works
such long hours, he didn’t have time to eat. I fixed us a little lunch. He was grateful.
The Other Woman doesn’t cook.”

Josie stifled another shriek.

“Ted told me so,” Molly said, her eyes wide. “He also said he wanted to get married.”

“To you, Josie,” Ted said.

“I know,” she said. “I can tell she’s twisting your words.”

“I wanted to get married, Wendy Lee,” Molly said. “I’m an old-fashioned girl who believes
marriage is the most important career a woman can have. I’m working at Denise’s Dreams,
a bridal shop, helping other women plan their big days. But I longed for my own wedding.
And Ted is the perfect man. He loves me, and we have so much in common.”

“Like what?” Wendy Lee asked.

“We both love animals,” Molly said. “And he loved my cooking. He was starved for good,
home-cooked food—and for love. Soon we were planning our wedding. He’d come over and
we’d talk about the perfect way to start our new life together. You could say Bella
brought us together.” She petted the little dog in her lap.

Ted stared at the screen, speechless.

Wendy Lee switched to a confiding “we girls” mode. “May I ask you a personal question,
Molly? When did you and Ted consummate your love?”

Molly blushed prettily. “Do you mean, did we have sex?” She lowered her eyes. “Like
I said, I’m old-fashioned. I wanted to be pure for my wedding night. Ted agreed to
respect my wishes. He said he didn’t want to make love to me.”

Ted said, “That’s the only true thing she’s said so far. Except she left out the word
‘ever.’ I said I didn’t
ever
want to.”

“I know,” Josie whispered.

Wendy Lee forged ahead. “So, tell us how your happiest day turned into your worst
nightmare.”

“This morning, I came to the clinic to pick up Ted in a white Bentley. I know renting
a luxury car is extravagant, but I’d always wanted to ride in one. I thought Ted would
enjoy it, too. They say it’s bad luck to see your groom before the wedding, but I
didn’t believe that old wives’ tale. Maybe I should have.” She gave a sad smile.

“Everything went wrong from the moment I walked into the clinic. Kathy, the receptionist,
has always been so kind. This morning, she tried to stop me from seeing Ted. I went
right past her into the surgery, where your channel was taping Ted. He looked so handsome,
but he wasn’t dressed for our wedding. I reminded the silly boy he was going to be
late. He gets so wrapped up in his work, he forgets, you know.”

She smiled fondly at Ted’s foible, before her face turned sad.

“Except he said he wasn’t marrying me,” Molly said. “Ted said he was marrying the
Other Woman a month from now. I had no idea. She came to the store where I work, but
I thought she was just another bride. She said she had an engagement ring, but I had
one of my own, and let me tell you, my diamond is a lot bigger than her little chips.”

Josie looked at her ring finger. “They’re not chips, Ted. I love my ring.”

“Sh!” Jane and Amelia said.

Molly’s voice wobbled on the edge of more tears. “The Other Woman told me to leave
Ted alone. She said he was hers. I wouldn’t listen to her crazy talk. Not on my wedding
day. Our conversation got a little out of hand, and the next thing I knew, I was holding
a scalpel and a woman who said she was Ted’s mother pulled a gun and threatened to
shoot me. I couldn’t believe she was Ted’s mother. He’s naturally handsome and she
looks like she’s had more facelifts than Joan Rivers.”

“Poor Mom,” Ted said. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Did Dr. Scottsmeyer’s mother fire the gun?” Wendy Lee asked the would-be bride.

“No,” Molly said. “The police came busting through the door and she hid the gun in
her purse. The police arrested me and I called Mr. Renzo Fischer, the best trial lawyer
in St. Louis. Mr. Fischer asked that nice Judge Hornsby if I could make my plea in
my wedding dress instead of an awful jail jumpsuit. Judge Hornsby said it was okay
for your station to be in the courtroom, Wendy Lee. Otherwise, I would have been all
alone.”

“Molly told me she didn’t like Channel Seven,” Josie said. “She sure changed her mind
fast.”

This time Josie got a triple “Shhh!”

“And how did you plea?” Wendy Lee asked.

“Not guilty, of course,” she said. “But my wedding—and my life—is over.”

Molly sobbed again, but her mascara held fast. “Ted loves me. I know he does.”

Wendy Lee turned to the camera. “And what does the groom have to say for himself?”
she asked. “Not much. We asked Dr. Ted Scottsmeyer twice why Molly thought he wanted
to marry her. Finally, Channel Seven got this answer from the doctor in his clinic
surgery.”

Josie winced when she saw this interview. Poor Ted looked like he’d been left out
in the rain.

“I don’t know,” he said, and scratched his head.

“As you can see, the two-timing groom has no explanation,” Wendy Lee said. “But his
pistol-packing mama has plenty to say.”

Lenore looked beautifully cruel on the small screen, twirling her pistol like a gun
moll. She held up her weapon and bragged, “Don’t underestimate this little beauty.
It’s small but deadly. This thirty-eight is a self-defense handgun for close quarters,
designed to be easily concealed. It fits right in here.”

Then she showed her black Chanel purse. “If necessary, I can fire right through this,”
she said. “But I’d hate to ruin a good purse.”

Lenore was still laughing when the show ended.