The Fashion Hound Murders (4 page)

Worthington interrupted her. “I understand, Ms. Marcus. We’re not asking for the full twenty-thousand-dollar tuition. The amount we need is based on your ability to pay. We don’t want to make it impossible. Our accrediting agency requires twenty-five percent ‘diversity’ for Barrington students.”

That was the school’s word for poor. Amelia didn’t qualify as “ethnically” diverse, but Maplewood was “urban” by Barrington standards, and that put Amelia in the diversity category.

“We’ve been able to recruit ‘full boat’ payers from the Asian and Indian communities. Many are the children of physicians and researchers attracted here by St. Louis’s fine medical facilities and universities. They are excellent students and their parents can afford full tuition. But they tend not to be donors. That’s not a criticism. They have different cultural values. We are forced to go back to our regular donors, and they have suffered severe financial distress. We’re asking all our scholarship students to pay a little something. Even a student who has a mother on welfare will contribute one hundred dollars. We’re asking you for only one thousand dollars.”

“Only!” Josie said. She felt dazed. “But—”

“We don’t need it tomorrow, Ms. Marcus. But we do need it.”

“I’ll—I’ll get it, Mr. Worthington. Just give me a little time.”

Josie hung up the phone. She felt like both couches—her old and her new one—had been dropped on her. One thousand dollars. At Christmastime.

Amelia was thriving at Barrington. She needed stability. But where would Josie get that kind of money? Her mother didn’t like Barrington. Jane wanted to send Amelia to St. Philomena’s Catholic School. She had even suggested that the combination of public school and the church Sunday school would do, until Josie showed her the statistics on guns in public schools.

Her phone rang again. It was Harry. “Pets 4 Luv will double your fee,” he announced, without bothering to say hello. “
Double your fee
. But that’s their last offer. Take it or leave it.”

Josie felt a flood of relief. That fee would pay a nice chunk of her daughter’s tuition. The job was still dangerous, but the money made it worth the risk.

“I need an answer now. You have to start this morning,” Harry said. “You have to return the purse cam to Suttin by three this afternoon, then e-mail me the report.”

Josie heard his desperation. “I can return the camera by three o’clock,” she said. “But I have to pick up my daughter at school. I can e-mail the report later this afternoon.”

“The office will be closed then,” Harry said. “Uh, it’s a one-time thing.”

Josie translated that as Harry was taking some unauthorized hours off work.

“Couldn’t your mother pick up the kid?” Harry asked.

Josie knew she had the upper hand. “Harry, I have to take my daughter to school and pick her up. I depend on my mother too much as it is.”

“Okay, okay. Get it in early tomorrow. Just take the freaking job. Please,” Harry said.

“I love it when men beg me,” Josie said.

Chapter 3

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Josie asked. “You can still go home.”

“Why?” Alyce said. “We mystery-shop together all the time. I’m your cover, your generic housewife. I’m the invisible woman.”

“Not that invisible,” Josie said. “You showed up on short notice when I needed you this morning.”

“Thank my nanny,” Alyce said. “She’s watching Justin.”

They were sitting in Alyce’s plush SUV on the parking lot of Pets 4 Luv. Josie’s car was parked next to it, but Alyce’s SUV had the better heater, so they sat inside it and waited. The store was supposed to open in five minutes. A woman in a blue winter coat paced outside the doors.

“You seem uneasy. What can go wrong at a pet store?” Alyce asked. “We’re in Kirkwood, one of the safer suburbs in St. Louis County.”

“There’s something flaky about this store,” Josie said.

The blue-coated woman rattled the doors impatiently, but they stayed locked.

“Looks like a normal store to me,” Alyce said. “The employees don’t want to open until they absolutely have to.”

“I’m getting paid too much money for this job,” Josie said.

“Nice problem,” Alyce said.

“Harry the Horrible isn’t telling me something.”

“Harry never tells you anything,” Alyce said.

“True,” Josie said. “But I have to use this stupid purse video camera.” Josie held it up.

Alyce studied the purse. “I wondered why you carried that. It’s seriously ugly. But I didn’t want to say anything.”

“You’re a true friend,” Josie said.

Alyce was Josie’s best friend and complete opposite. Josie was small and dark haired. Alyce’s skin was so white, it was almost translucent. She had pale blond hair and a generous figure.

Alyce was fairly rich. Josie was strapped for cash. Alyce lived in a new, upper-crust suburb. Josie preferred older, more urban Maplewood, on the edge of St. Louis. Alyce enjoyed being a stay-at-home mom. Josie liked mystery shopping. She cooked with battered pots and old knives. Alyce adored kitchen gadgets and lusted after a hundred-dollar panini press. That was a love Josie could never understand, but their odd friendship worked. Their personalities blended perfectly, like the offbeat ingredients in Alyce’s recipes.

Alyce surveyed the beige brick building and almost-empty parking lot. “Looks like your basic big box store. Tell me why Pets 4 Luv is dangerous.”

“The chain’s headquarters suspect some of their stores are selling puppy mill dogs.”

“That’s cruel to the little dogs,” Alyce said, “but I’m not sure how it’s dangerous to people.”

“Millions of dollars are at stake,” Josie said. “There’s major money in selling puppy mill pets.”

“Has anyone been threatened?”

“Not that I know of.” Josie watched the blue-coated woman push through the doors. “Finally. The store is open. I’m turning on the purse cam. We’re going in.”

Alyce giggled. “You sound like a SWAT team leader,” she said.

Pets 4 Luv was bigger than Josie’s supermarket. Endless aisles were crammed with toys, treats, pet clothes, and food.

Josie didn’t have to ask the first question, Where are your pedigreed pets? The animals were displayed near the doors. Cats were in common wire cages with carpet-scrap floors. Long-haired Persians looked down their short, flat noses at ordinary striped kittens. Mice, rats, hamsters, and other pet rodents were in plastic corrals. Bright parrots, parakeets, and canaries were protected from drafts in Plexiglas cages.

The pedigreed pups were showcased like fine jewelry behind heart-shaped windows. Portugese water dog pups, the First Dog choice, had pride of place.

“The water dogs’ popularity went up since they became the White House pet,” Josie said.

“I see plenty of pop princess favorites,” Alyce said. “Those Chihuahuas, Pomeranians, and papillons are real fashion hounds.”

“I may overdose on cuteness,” Josie said.

Piles of pups slept, yipped, or wrestled with one another. A tiny pug chased his own curly tail. A few pups pawed the glass and whimpered for attention.

“May I help you?” The store clerk had a face like a graying basset hound. He seemed too dignified for the bright yellow Pets 4 Luv shirt. His name tag featured a plastic puppy saying, I’M JIM, PANTING TO HELP YOU. Josie almost felt sorry for the man.

“I was admiring your pedigreed puppies,” Josie said.

“Cute, aren’t they? All our puppies are purebred,” Jim said. “They’re USDA inspected and have American Kennel Club papers.”

Jim reached into a cage and handed Josie a pug so tiny she could hold the warm little creature in the palm of her hand.

“There,” he said. “It doesn’t cost anything to hold one. Isn’t he sweet?”

The puppy squirmed. Josie was afraid she’d drop the little fellow.

“He is cute,” Josie said. “May I see his breeder paperwork?”

“Sure, sure,” Jim said. “I don’t have it right this moment.”

“What about the vet records?”

“I can’t get those right now, but all our pups are veterinarian inspected and perfectly healthy.”

“Terrific,” Josie said. “Would you put that in writing for me?”

“What?” Jim looked like a cornered animal.

“Would you put it in writing that your pups are vet inspected and perfectly healthy?”

“Uh, I’m not authorized to do that,” Jim said.

“May I speak to the manager?” Josie asked.

Jim looked wildly around the store, then said, “She’s not here. I have to unload a shipment of cat litter.” He disappeared down a dog food aisle like a gopher down its hole.

“Wait!” Josie called. The pup in her hand tried to wiggle free. She struggled to hang on to the slippery little fur ball, but he made a leap and landed on a stack of dog food bags. The pup looked outrageously happy on the dog food mountain. He tore at the paper bag with tiny, needle-sharp teeth.

Josie grabbed the pup and shoved him back into his cage. He gave a heartbroken howl.

“Is he crying for you or the food?” Alyce asked. Then she started laughing so hard she sat down on the stack of dog food bags. “You’ve broken his heart. And he’s only eight weeks old.”

“You can console him. I have to buy a twenty-pound bag of puppy chow.” Josie ran down the dog food aisle. She found the puppy chow, but saw no sign of Jim.

Alyce joined Josie at the cash register. Shirley wasn’t exactly panting to help, despite her name tag, but she did ring up the dog food.

“Is Jim around?” Josie asked. “He was helping me pick out a puppy.”

“Jim had to go to lunch,” Shirley said.

“At ten fifteen?” Josie asked.

“We get really busy during the noon hour,” Shirley said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes,” Josie said. “I’d like to see the names and addresses of the breeders for your pedigreed pups.”

“Our manager has those and she’s on vacation,” Shirley said. “But if you want to buy a pup, we can mail you the paperwork later.”

“No, thank you,” Josie said.

When they were back outside, Alyce said, “They’re lying. Both of them. I hope you got that on tape.”

“Me, too. Let’s get some coffee and check the tape, or chip, or whatever it is,” Josie said. “The other store is in Rock Road Village, by my place. There’s a coffeehouse, Foundation Grounds, nearby on Manchester Road. Their baked goods are organic and their coffee is free trade.”

“I’m not sure I can stand too much virtue,” Alyce said. “But I could use a cappuccino.”

“The baked goods are wicked,” Josie said.

“Sold,” Alyce said.

They formed a two-car caravan for the six miles to Foundation Grounds in Maplewood. On the short drive, Josie remembered the wiggly little pug. Maybe she could make sure other pups got a better start. Josie Marcus, defender of baby animals, she thought. She didn’t feel noble, but at least she was doing useful work—and helping pay her daughter’s tuition.

Foundation Grounds’ coffee-scented interior was welcoming on a gray day. Josie and Alyce found a quiet corner and settled in with their scones and cinnamon-sprinkled cappuccinos.

“I like the funky decor,” Alyce said. “Wish there was a way to just get a cup of foam.” She ate hers with a spoon. “Did your purse record everything?”

Josie put in the earpiece, then did a quick check of the sound and video. “Every weaselly word. And I mean no disrespect to weasels. I’ll bet anything that store is selling puppy mill pets.”

Alyce finished her cappuccino and Josie polished off her scone. “Want more coffee?”

“Let’s finish this assignment,” Alyce said. “I can hardly stand to look at those poor animals. It’s like they’re begging me to save them and I can’t.”

“This isn’t your job,” Josie said. “It’s mine. I understand if you want to go home.”

“I’m not a quitter,” Alyce said.

The second Pets 4 Luv store in Rock Road Village was nearly a copy of the first, down to the pedigreed dogs behind the plastic hearts. This time, Edna was supposed to be panting to help Josie. Edna was a sturdy, sensible woman with tightly permed dark hair. She offered Josie a carob chip cookie. “What do you think?”

Josie took a bite. “Not bad,” she said. A little bland, but okay, she thought.

Edna had a wicked gleam in her eye. “It’s a dog treat from the bulk food bin, but a lot of humans eat them.”

Josie nearly spit out the rest of the cookie.

“It won’t hurt you,” Edna said. “They’re the same carob cookies you see in the bulk food bin at supermarkets.”

A Chihuahua that was, all eyes, ears, and twig legs, pawed a heart-shaped window. Josie was tempted to feed it the rest of her cookie.

“I’ll take half a pound,” Josie said. “I want to get a puppy for my ten-year-old daughter. It’s a present.”

She asked the required questions. Edna gave evasive answers, but Josie could see the panic in her eyes.

“Bichons require a lot of grooming,” Edna said. “Would your daughter do that chore? Let me show you the grooming supplies you’ll need.”

Alyce pretended to look at leashes while Josie followed the woman to an aisle lined with brushes and other grooming tools.

“There’s no security camera here,” Edna said, dropping her voice. Josie hoped the purse cam could still pick it up. “Turn off that thing.”

“What thing?” Josie said.

“I don’t have time for games. Any idiot can see you have a recording device in that purse. You’re too young and stylish to carry an old woman’s purse.”

Josie put her hand inside the purse and pretended to fiddle with a switch. “It’s off,” she said.

“You’re one of them,” Edna said. “You’re an animal rescue investigator. They’ve been sneaking into this store, driving my manager crazy. Dave is up to something. He watches the security cameras like it’s the bottom of the ninth in the World Series.”

“I could be with the other side,” Josie said.

“No, I’m a good judge of people,” Edna said. “I’ve been in retail more than thirty years. I get off work at six thirty tonight. Come back and I’ll ‘accidentally’ run into you outside by the door. You’ll be a friend I haven’t seen in ages. Gotta go, or Dave will come looking for me.”

“Are these puppy mill dogs?” Josie asked. “Are they—”