The Fashion Hound Murders (23 page)

She knew Detective Dixie couldn’t arrest her for failing to help him or obstructing an investigation. But the police knew how to make trouble. In Josie’s experience, they stuck together and did favors for one another.

If Josie refused, she would suddenly have a lot of little problems. She’d be stopped for a burned-out taillight on her car. Or because she rolled through a stop. Or dropped a gum wrapper and broke a littering law. When cops wanted to get you, they did. And she didn’t have the kind of career criminal mind that enjoyed fighting the police.

Josie mentally hushed her fears. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had Ted. She’d get the interview over with and go home. Besides, if the interview got rough, she could walk out.

Detective Dixie interrupted her thoughts. “Do you want to talk at the clinic or go into Wildfern?” he asked. “In the time you’ve sat there, we could have been halfway to Wildfern.”

Josie gave in. “I’ll talk with you. But I need to call my mother. She’s watching my daughter.”

“Fine.” Detective Dixie shrugged.

Josie dreaded this call more than the interview with Detective Win Dixie. She speed-dialed Jane. Her mother sounded groggy. She must have fallen asleep on the couch. Good. Josie hoped to have this conversation over before Jane woke up fully.

“Hi, Mom. Sorry to wake you. I’m going to be a bit later. No, no. Everything is fine. She’s asleep? Good. Thanks.” She hung up quickly.

“Let’s go inside the clinic here,” Detective Dixie said. Josie was relieved to get away from the flashing lights and noise. Officers were carrying out cardboard boxes. Dixie opened room two, a small exam room with a blue counter. On the counter were a plastic dog skeleton, a computer monitor, and a rack of pamphlets. The room smelled of dog hair and disinfectant.

Dixie stood behind the counter and nearly filled the room. He was wearing a shirt that could have slipcovered a recliner. The maroon shirt made his skin seem pinker. His goatee looked freshly trimmed. Josie sat in the only chair. She felt tired and bedraggled. She had a spot of pasta sauce on her shirt.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Dr. Ted, the veterinarian?” Detective Dixie asked.

“What relationship?” Josie said. “He gave my sick cat an enema. Tonight he cooked me dinner. My daughter was present the whole time. That’s not exactly a relationship.”

Josie immediately regretted those last sentences. They sounded defensive.

“So, based on dinner and an enema, you came running to his rescue tonight?”

“It sounds so unattractive when you put it that way,” Josie said.

Dixie slammed his huge hand on the counter and spoke each word slowly and distinctly. “I. Am. Not. Joking, Miss Marcus. Tell me the truth or I’ll hold you as a material witness and you can spend the night in jail. Remember, you have a daughter to consider.”

And a mother, Josie thought. A murder case would be a picnic in the park compared to an angry Jane. She wanted this detective out of her life.

Josie slapped on a smile and said, “Can we start again, please? Officer, I don’t have any kind of romantic relationship with Ted. I got his name from another woman when I was at the Humane Society to adopt my cat. A friend named Traci had a puppy mill dog. She needed a vet, and I gave her one of Dr. Ted’s cards.

“He went to her house in Wood Winds subdivision and looked at her little dog. He confirmed it was a traumatized puppy mill dog. After he left her house, my cat seemed sick. My daughter was worried about Harry—”

“Harry is the cat?” Detective Dixie asked.

“Yes. My daughter loves that cat. She picked him out at the Humane Society because he looked like her late father’s cat. I called Dr. Ted. He came to our home and found out the cat was constipated.”

Dixie’s eyebrows went up.

“It’s true,” she said. “We’re new cat owners and we’d been feeding him too much dry food. Dr. Ted unplugged the cat and suggested a diet change. While he was at our house, he got a call from Traci that her dog had found a snake in her garage. She wanted to kill it with a shovel, but he ran out there to save it.”

“You’re telling me he drove out to West County to save a snake?” Dixie said.

“He’s kind of a snake rights person,” Josie said. “He believes snakes are our friends and have a useful place in the ecosystem.”

“I know, I know. You can spare me the lecture. I’ve already heard it. Do you know what kind of snake he rescued at this Traci’s house?”

“She said it was poisonous, but she didn’t know what kind or what color it was. All she could see was the head and she said it looked ‘snaky,’ which I guess it would.”

“But Traci didn’t know if it was a cotton mouth, a rattlesnake, or a coral snake?”

“No. She’s from Miami. She said it didn’t look like any snakes she’d seen there. That was the first time I met Ted.”

“And when did you see Ted again?”

“I called him earlier today to ask about the right brand of food for the cat. He offered to bring over some sample cans and cook dinner for my daughter and me. We were eating when he got a call from his partner, Chris, that the police were at the clinic and had shot Jack. Ted ran out the door without finishing his meal.”

“Did Ted talk to you about snakes, Miss Marcus?”

“Oh, yes. He said that snakes were misunderstood. They were helpful.”

“Did he ever mention coral snakes?”

“Just that they looked a lot like harmless scarlet king snakes. They have bands of red, black, and yellow, except their colors are sort of reversed. How did that rhyme go? ‘If red touches yellow, it can kill a fellow. If red touches black, it is a friend of—’ ”

Dixie interrupted. “Yeah, yeah, ‘a friend of Jack.’ I’ll make sure they teach that at the police academy, so the uniforms don’t go shooting the wrong snakes. Can you answer one more question for me, Miss Marcus?”

“Sure,” Josie said, hoping the endless evening was coming to an end.

“Can you explain why a real coral snake skin was found in your vet’s office?”

“A dead snake skin?” Josie was tired and confused.

“A
shed
snake skin,” Dixie said. “But it came off a live snake. Snakes outgrow their skins and shed them. They look sort of like pork rinds.”

Josie’s exhausted mind flashed on a picture of her horrible boss crunching crispy snake skins. Her stomach turned.

“This particular skin we found belonged to a coral snake,” he said. “Now, being a careful kind of guy, when we served the warrant, I brought a real herpetologist with me. That’s a snake expert. He examined that skin and agreed it came off a coral snake. A full-grown one, maybe two feet long. He also said the snake that got shot was a harmless scarlet king snake. But that coral snake is not harmless. So what is your innocent vet doing with a coral snake skin in his office?”

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “Maybe he used it at one of his snake lectures.”

“I don’t think so, Miss Marcus. That snake skin was behind his office couch. A very dangerous place to keep a coral snake. If a cleaner had moved the couch, she could get bit, you know?

“You look kind of sick there, Miss Marcus. Maybe Dr. Ted should be more careful about the friends he hangs around with, huh? Maybe you should be more careful about your friends. Some snakes have two legs.”

Chapter 28

Ted’s partner was pacing the clinic’s empty waiting room with short, angry strides. Long spiky strands of dark hair had escaped Dr. Chris’s ponytail, and Josie felt an urge to smooth them. Even in the shadowy room, the veterinarian’s face looked taut and angry.

Dr. Chris glared at Detective Winston Dixie when he walked out of the exam room. “Are you finished now? I’d like to lock up and go home to my family.”

Someone had cleaned up the waiting room. The shattered aquarium was gone. So was the slaughtered snake, except for a stain and a bullet hole in the light blue carpet. The side table where the snake used to live seemed bare. Dr. Chris had tried to fill in the spot with a stack of old magazines and a heartworm display.

“Where’s Ted?” Josie asked.

“The idiots took him in for questioning,” Dr. Chris said. “I think he’s going to be arrested.”

“But he’s innocent,” Josie said.

“So was the snake, and he’s dead,” she snapped. “At least they didn’t shoot poor Ted.”

That bit of invective set off Detective Dixie. “Our department doesn’t believe your partner is innocent,” he said. “What was he doing with a coral snake skin hidden in his office?”

“It’s not illegal to keep a snake skin,” Dr. Chris said. “Besides, I tried to tell you that Ted never had a coral snake at the clinic. We have kids and pets running around this clinic. His cat camps out in his office. His dog sleeps beside the receptionist’s chair. A poisonous snake is too dangerous here.”

“So a coral snake, which doesn’t live in Missouri, just happened to crawl inside your clinic and shed its skin under the couch?” Detective Dixie said. “Or was that a coral snake your partner found in Traci’s garage?”

“I told you before. Ted said he found a timber rattlesnake. They’re native to Missouri. Timber rattlesnakes go into ‘torpor’—it’s sort of like hibernation—in winter, but they may come out of it if the weather gets warm. We’ve had several warm, sunny winter days.”

“And what did your good friend Dr. Ted do with the rattlesnake after he found it?” the detective asked.

“He let it loose in the woods, where it belonged.”

“Where it could kill someone,” Detective Dixie said.

“Deaths from rattlesnake bites are rare, detective.” Dr. Chris said. “Your chance of dying from a bite is less than one percent if you get proper treatment. Rattlesnakes are rather shy.”

“Ted
told
you he let a rattlesnake loose in the woods,” Dixie said. “But nobody saw the snake. Not even that Traci lady who thinks he’s such a hero. If Ted’s a hero, he should have killed the snake to save a human.”

“Hikers wear boots to protect themselves from snakes, detective. They’re the intruders. Let me repeat: Ted doesn’t kill snakes.”

“But he does kill people,” Dixie said. “He made hostile statements concerning the victim, Jonah Deerford.”

“Jonah Deerford was what we call a miller—he ran a puppy mill,” Dr. Chris said. “It was cruel. No one who cares about animals likes millers. But Ted was smart enough to know if we eliminated Jonah Deerford’s puppy mill, another would pop up in its place. That’s why he was trying to change the law, to make puppy mills unprofitable. But I doubt someone like you would understand.”

Detective Dixie gave a sarcastic smile. “Good night, ladies. I’ve enjoyed talking to you, but I’d like to go home to
my
family.”

He slammed the clinic door. They heard his car engine start in the loud silence.

“You must have really yanked his chain,” Josie said. “He isn’t the type to debate issues with civilians.”

“Good. Maybe my arguments actually penetrated his thick skull. But I doubt he heard a word I said.”

“I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Josie Marcus.” She extended her hand. “I gather you’re Dr. Chris. Ted came over to my house tonight and fixed dinner.”

“You can call me Chris. I’m not a doctor unless you have fur or feathers. Ted told me all about you, Josie. I’m glad he’s going out with you.”

“I don’t think we’ve reached the dating stage yet,” Josie said. “He just looked at my cat the other day and made my daughter and me pasta for dinner tonight.”

“When Ted cooks for a woman, that means he really likes her,” Chris said. Her smile made her seem younger. “I hope you do start dating him. Ted’s last girlfriend was one step away from a stalker. He had to give her the ‘Let’s be friends’ speech. She was seriously pissed at him. It’s hard to let go of a man as charming as Ted—and one who can cook, too.

“After they split, Ted’s car windshield was broken and we found animal feces smeared on the clinic door. I wanted Ted to get a restraining order against her, but he refused. He said we didn’t know for sure that she had done it. He told me, ‘It’s not her fault. She liked me better than I liked her. I hurt her. I feel bad about it, but things just weren’t clicking. It would have been dishonest to lead her on.’ ”

“I definitely understand,” Josie said. “Does Ted need a lawyer?”

“I called one. I hope Ted will follow his attorney’s instructions to shut up and avoid his ‘Snakes are our friends’ speech. Especially when one of his ‘friends’ killed a man. Jonah Deerford was lower than a snake’s belly, but his death was still murder.”

“Can anyone give Ted an alibi for the time before Jonah died?” Josie asked.

“Yeah, the same woman he dumped.”

“Oh,” Josie said.

“She could save him, but I don’t think she’ll want to. Ted had some kind of stomach virus and was dragging around. His car was sick, too. He drives an old ’sixty-eight Mustang. The battery died. She took him home with her, fed him chicken soup and toast, then bought a new battery for his car. He stayed with her three days until he was well enough to drive.”

“If she has the battery receipt, she might help him,” Josie said. “It would prove he couldn’t drive out to Wildfern.”

“She says she threw it out. She paid cash for the battery and installed it herself.”

“So she nursed Ted back to health, fixed his car, and then he dumped her. I can see why she’s angry at him.”

“Me, too. Even Ted says she had good reason. She might be too angry to testify on his behalf. Worse, she might lie and hurt him.”

“What’s her name?” Josie asked.

“I can’t remember,” Chris said. “I’m not good with names. With all the pet and people names at the clinic, I can’t keep them straight. I only met her once. What was her name? It was something New Agey: Arizona? Nevada? Azure? Ursula? Ireland? It wasn’t your everyday Cathy or Chris. I named my kids Morgan and Ashley so they’d be different, but their names are just as common as mine used to be.”

Josie glanced at the clock next to the clinic’s register. “Is it really eleven thirty? I’ve got to get home. Mom is babysitting and I promised her I wouldn’t be late. I have a daughter of my own, but I’m never too old to get in trouble with my mother.”