Murder Is A Piece Of Cake Part 4

"Because I live in South Florida," Lenore said, as if that were an explanation. "Protection is important everywhere, not just Florida. Today's problem with that, uh, unfortunate person is a prime example. We were in a clinic in a quiet neighborhood, surrounded by decent people. There was even a large dog, but he was no use."

She glared at Festus, who'd come out from under the table to watch. Ted's Lab wagged his tail.

"None of that made any difference when that deluded woman burst in here," Lenore said. "No one stopped her. She would have killed Dr. Scottsmeyer if I hadn't had this weapon."

Lenore brandished the pistol and gave a dazzling smile. The producer applauded. "Perfect!" she said. "Now could you twirl your pistol and blow on the barrel as if you've just fired it?"

Lenore did more stylish moves while Bill, the photographer, taped the glamorous gunslinger. He even climbed on a chair to shoot her from another angle.

"Do you have enough tape for your interview?" Lenore asked.

"More than enough," Rona said. Josie noticed the producer's ecstatic smile and felt uneasy.

"Good," Lenore said. "What's going to happen to my son's show? Are you going to finish taping it?"

"Uh, we're meeting about that later at the station," Rona said. She avoided looking directly at Lenore.

Josie's heart sank. The producer is dodging the question, Josie thought. Molly not only wounded Ted; she'd killed his TV show.

"I hope you won't abandon a useful program like Dr. Ted's Pet Vet Tips," Lenore said. Josie thought she was trying to frown, but the Botox injections had left her smooth forehead immobile.

The producer gulped. "Right now we'd like to interview Dr. Ted about today's incident."

Ted shook his head. "I'd rather not," he said. "I'm hoping Miss Deaver can be cured of her . . . problem. She is a former patient. No, I mean, Bella's my patient. That's her dog. Well, not my patient. Dr. Chris took over her case. But Miss Deaver is a client. I want to give her a chance to recover."

"Ted, you should talk to the TV station," Lenore said. "Any TV time is good."

"At least give us a statement about today," Rona said. "We need something for the record. Stand over there by the table, where you were with the cat."

Ted obediently got into place. Josie tried unsuccessfully to straighten his white coat and the rumpled blue shirt underneath.

"You stand over here," Rona said, and pulled Josie over near Lenore.

"We're rolling in one, two, three," Rona said.

"Were you engaged to Molly Ann Deaver?" she asked Ted.

"No! Never," Ted said. "I went to her home to check up on her dog, Bella. I'd spayed her Maltese. Miss Deaver misunderstood my visits. She thought I was calling on her. She began to make excuses so I'd see her-I mean, her dog-more often.

"There was nothing wrong with Bella. I even sent her to a specialist who confirmed my diagnosis. It seemed wrong to take Miss Deaver's money and subject Bella to blood tests, X-rays, and other procedures when the dog wasn't sick. I discussed the situation with my partner, Dr. Chris, and we decided that she would handle any future appointments for Bella and we'd treat the dog only if Miss Deaver brought her to the clinic. After she ambushed me in the hall and gave me an expensive watch, we declined to treat her dog at all."

Ted was sweating. Big drops ran down his forehead and splashed on his bloodstained shirt. He kept running his fingers through his hair and it was standing up again. Josie longed to give him a fresh shirt.

"So you never planned to marry Molly Deaver today?" Rona asked.

"Not today or any other day," Ted said. "I've never dated her. I've never met her family. I am engaged to Josie Marcus and we're getting married in a month, the day after Thanksgiving. Josie-not Molly. She's my bride, my real bride."

Ted had seemed so sure of himself when he talked about how to trim a cat's nails. Now he was tongue-tied. It was painful to watch him stumble over his words. Festus seemed to notice his distress. The black Lab b.u.mped his big head against Ted's leg, and the vet absently scratched the dog's ear.

A worried Festus jumped up on the table next to Ted and licked his neck. The vet tried to calm his dog with rea.s.suring pats. Festus was not fooled. He leaned protectively against Ted.

"Dr. Ted," Rona said, "you didn't answer my question. Where did Miss Deaver get the idea that you wanted to marry her?"

"I don't know," Ted said, his voice sad. He scratched his head.

Festus threw back his head and howled.

Josie wanted to join him.

Chapter 5.

Tuesday, October 23 "I'm so sorry your mother couldn't make our little luncheon," Lenore said.

Josie knew she wasn't. Lenore and Jane had met once and disliked each other instantly.

"I am, too," Josie said. "Unfortunately, Mother had a previous engagement. But she's looking forward to seeing you at the Blue Rose Tearoom tomorrow."

Jane had a church committee meeting today-and no idea she'd been invited to this lunch at the Ritz-Carlton. Josie didn't dare bring her fierce little mother. She knew when Lenore started hinting that her son could have found a better bride, Jane would leave blood on the white tablecloth.

When the polite lies were out of the way, the server took their orders and delivered their drinks-white wine for the women and a beer for Ted.

"Well," Lenore said, "this morning was interesting, wasn't it? I'm glad that woman is locked up."

Ted's mother was fresh and prettily flushed after her television triumph. She glowed in the sunlit softness of the restaurant.

Ted still looked bedraggled, even after he'd stopped at home to change into a fresh shirt. He refused to wear his white doctor's coat, even after Lenore begged him.

"She'll be out on bond soon, Mom," Ted said.

"And then the judge will put her away," Lenore said. "That nice policeman said her attack on you is a second-degree felony a.s.sault. She's looking at five to fifteen years in prison."

"I don't think so," Ted said. "Pretty blue-eyed blondes don't get maximum sentences."

"It doesn't matter," Lenore said. "She's out of the way." She dismissed mad Molly with a wave of her hand.

"Josie, you already received my wedding guest list weeks ago," Lenore said. "We're expecting some fifty friends and family members to attend Ted's wedding. He's my son and I want to make this an occasion."

Josie felt a jab of fear when Lenore said "Ted's wedding" and "make this an occasion." Josie and Ted wanted their wedding to be a celebration, not a circus.

"Our guests have received their invitations," Lenore said. She produced one from her bag and tapped the heavy cream-colored paper with her fingernail.

"These aren't engraved," she said. The frost in her voice could have chilled their wine.

"No," Josie said. "But we chose the best paper, one-hundred-ten-pound cotton stock. They look engraved."

"But everyone knows this isn't real engraving," Lenore said. "If only you'd let me, I could have helped you. The invitation says the ceremony is at the Jewel Box. What's that?"

"Wait till you see it, Mom," Ted said. "It's an art deco greenhouse in Forest Park-that's the big city park-with these incredible palm trees and tropical plants. The Jewel Box was built in the 1930s. It's on the National Register of Historic Places. The out-of-town guests will see something really cool."

Ted brightened as he described the Jewel Box, his enthusiasm overcoming his lost look.

"We were lucky to get it," Josie said. She managed a lopsided smile and fortified herself with a sip of wine. "Our timing is perfect. Our wedding is at the start of the winter poinsettia show and hundreds of them will be on display, ranging from white to deep ruby. It's dazzling. I have a photo of the Jewel Box in my wedding plan notebook." She leafed through it and found the page.

"Here," she said. "Not only is the building gorgeous, but there's lots of free parking."

"Very nice," Lenore said. A historic building seemed to meet her exacting standards. "What about music?"

"We've picked some lovely CDs," Josie said. "We chose music that meant something to both of us."

A shadow crossed Lenore's face. Was that an attempted frown on her Botoxed forehead? Josie wondered.

"I was thinking of a string quartet for the ceremony," Lenore said.

"Mom, that's not in our budget," Ted said.

"I'll give it to you as a gift," Lenore said.

"That's very generous," Josie said, and meant it. "I'll get the names of some local quartets and you can choose one."

"Oh, you hire one," Lenore said. "Just send me the bill."

Well, that was easy, Josie thought. Maybe I've misjudged her.

"Will you have the reception at the Jewel Box, too?" Lenore asked.

"No, we've only rented it for two hours," Josie said. "There's another wedding after ours. But we have the reception at a nice banquet hall, the Royal Saint Louis."

Lenore frowned at the photo of the hall.

"Is that a public banquet hall?" she asked. Her tone implied it was a public toilet.

"A good one," Josie said. "The food is delicious. See. Four stars."

"In St. Louis," Lenore said. Her collagened lip curled. "I was hoping we could have the reception here at the Ritz."

"That's-," Ted said.

Josie cut him off before he could say "out of our price range." "Taken," she said. "That date has been booked already."

Josie had no idea if that was true, but she'd already signed the contract for the Royal Saint Louis.

"Of course," Lenore said. "I should have known. For your wedding reception, I was thinking of booking Peter Duchin."

"Peter Duchin?" Josie said. Wasn't that old people's dance music?

"Surely you've heard of his orchestra," Lenore said. "He plays at the White House, premier charity galas, and society weddings. I doubt if we'll be able to get Peter himself at this late date, but any of the bands booked by his organization are top notch."

"We already have a band," Josie said. "A good one. We've got the Smash Band. It has ten members."

"Smash is playing all the wedding reception favorites," Ted said. "*Proud Mary,** *Raise Your Gla.s.s.'"

"We even paid an extra hundred dollars for the twist contest," Josie said.

"A twist contest!" Lenore looked like she'd bitten into a lemon.

"It's fun," Josie said. "We have a cool trophy for the winner."

"I was hoping my son's wedding would be small but tasteful," Lenore said.

"That's what we want, too," Josie said. "That's why we decided not to have a dollar dance."

"I've never heard of that," Lenore said. More frost.

"It's a bridal tradition," Josie said. "The bride and groom dance with guests who pay for the privilege. The money usually goes to the honeymoon fund."

"I should think not!" Lenore said. She clutched her winegla.s.s and took a stiff drink. "At least I've heard of that song, *Proud Mary.' But what is *Raise Your Gla.s.s'?"

"A song by Pink," Ted said. "It's a wedding favorite for . . . uh, my generation."

"This Pink," Lenore said. "That isn't Pink Floyd, is it? I heard one of their songs, something about a brick. It's loud and depressing."

"I agree," Josie said. "*Another Brick in the Wall' isn't wedding music. Pink is a rock star. She won a Grammy."

"I don't know her," Lenore said, as if that were a failing on Pink's part.

Josie was relieved. That meant Lenore hadn't heard of another Pink hit-"f.u.c.kin' Perfect."

"And I'm quite sure none of our guests have heard of this Smash," Lenore said. "But they definitely know Peter Duchin. He plays all the time in Boca Raton."

Lenore drawled Boca Raton as if it meant something more impressive than "mouth of the rat."

"If they haven't heard of Smash, they should have," Josie said. "He was an MTV DJ, and he's been on national television and radio stations all around the country. Since he moved here, he's become a St. Louis inst.i.tution."

Lenore sniffed. "Half of our out-of-town guests haven't heard of St. Louis," she said.

Josie pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to answer back. She looked around wildly, hoping the server would appear with their lunch, but saw no sign of approaching rescue. She wished Ted would defend their choice, but he was scanning the horizon for signs of food.

"We've already signed a contract," Josie said.

"I'll buy it out," Lenore said quickly. "With a thousand-dollar bonus for this Smash person."