An Uplifting Murder by Elaine Viets

mother in person, so she made a second call.
     
    Jane sounded uncommonly cheerful when she answered. “I’ll be glad to pick up my granddaughter. But why can’t you? Are you working again today?”
     
    “I need to see a doctor.” Josie tried to stave off a barrage of motherly concern with “Nothing serious, I promise.”
     
    “Are you sure?” Jane asked. “You don’t usually go to doctors unless you’re really sick. Were you upset finding that dead woman? That would make me sick.”
     
    “Just a routine checkup,” Josie lied.
     
    “Good,” Jane said. “You’re finally getting some sensible habits. I’ve been after you to start getting an annual checkup since Amelia was born. If you’re feeling under the weather, I still have some homemade chicken soup left over in the freezer. It’s better than penicillin.”
     
    “Your chicken soup is better than anything,” Josie said.
     
    “Amelia and I are making stuffed green peppers in our cooking class after school today. Would you like to come upstairs for dinner?”
     
    “Thanks, Mom. Ted and I are going to Failoni’s tonight. Alex Junior is singing, and Ted has reservations for seven o’clock.”
     
    “That Alex sounds just like Sinatra,” Jane said. “An evening of music and Sicilian cooking will cure what ails you. If you want, Amelia and Harry can stay overnight with me, so don’t worry about coming home early. Amelia and I can make waffles for breakfast together, since she doesn’t have school on Saturday.”
     
    A double gift. Jane didn’t like cats until she met Harry. She actively disliked Ted at first, calling him the “animal doctor,” as if he had four legs and fleas. Now Jane loved these two new additions to Josie’s life.
     
    “Thanks, Mom,” Josie said. “I’m lucky to have you.”
     
    “Don’t forget that,” Jane said. “Time for my soap opera.” She hung up.
     
    Josie was glad her mother was watching soap operas. Not too long ago, Jane had been a serial-shopping addict, buying everything from cubic zirconias to collectible dollars on the shopping channel.
     
    Josie called Ted at his office. In the background she could hear barks and an outraged meow.
     
    “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll shut the door so I can hear you better. My partner is wrestling a twenty-pound feline. That cat doesn’t like visiting the vet.”
     
    “I do,” Josie said. “I have a babysitter for tonight. Mom is letting Amelia stay overnight.”
     
    “So I can come over to your place?” Ted asked.
     
    “Uh, my mother lives upstairs and she has sharp ears,” Josie said. “Also, my daughter will see your car.” Josie was careful to shield Amelia from her sex life.
     
    “Then maybe you can stop by and see Festus and Marmalade,” Dr. Ted said. “I’ll try to get as much dog and cat hair off the couch as I can.”
     
    “I’m used to pet hair,” Josie said.
     
    Her day was improving already. Josie put on a flattering pink sweater and a little lipstick and decided she looked good. She was ready to meet Dr. Hugo Agustino Martin.
     
    The plastic surgeon’s Clayton office was hushed and plush. The walls were a summer sky blue. In the soft waiting room light, Josie studied framed ads featuring attractive, ageless women. “Radiesse,” said one. “For the treatment of facial folds.”
     
    Was that what plastic surgeons called wrinkles? Josie wondered.
     
    Dr. Martin’s receptionist seemed familiar, but Josie wasn’t sure why. Lustrous brown hair fell past her shoulders in dark waves. She seemed sweet, shy, and “stacked,” as Edith said, a word Josie thought was used only in old movies. Were the receptionist’s curves real or the work of Dr. Tino Martin? Her name tag said she was Shannon.
     
    An impressively built nurse in a trim blue uniform showed Josie into an office. Again, Josie wondered if her amazing chest had been enhanced by her employer. The plastic surgeon’s desk was big as a parking lot and empty except