"Do you think Lori was trying to hurry along her mother's death?" Josie said.

"Honey, I'd love to see that girl behind prison bars, but I don't see how she could have. Why take the risk? Lori was going to inherit everything anyway. When her mother decided to marry Ted after a decade of widowhood, Lori carried on like she was robbed.

"Sheila caved and signed a prenup. Lori gets her mother's money and the house in Maplewood. Prices are rising in that area, you know. Maplewood real estate is suddenly hot. Sheila's little two-bedroom brick is worth about three hundred thousand now, and Lori can't wait to sell it. I'm surprised she hasn't put Ted out on the street already. Lori claimed she couldn't work, but there was nothing wrong with her except she was bone-lazy. Her mother paid her an allowance and Lori wasn't too disabled to cash those checks."

"Whose idea was the radio station diet contest?" Josie asked.

"Lori's. Her mother always wanted to be thin, and Lori talked her into it because of the big prize. When it looked like Sheila had a chance at winning, Lori watched that poor woman the way a snake watches a rabbit. Nagged her night and day. Made her eat that diet food. Tasted like cardboard in my opinion. Watched her like a prisoner.

"Sheila finally reached her goal weight plus a little less. Lori went off to Chicago to celebrate. Probably spent her mother's winnings before she even got them. Sheila sneaked off for some chocolate cake while her daughter was out of town. It killed her, poor thing."

"Is Lori heavyset?" Josie asked.

"Skinny as a snake, with a mop of dyed blond hair and a port wine stain on her face. Ugly inside and out, that one. She claimed that birthmark kept her from working, but it was her own nasty personality. Believe me, if Lori had walked into the Elf House, that Elsie would have remembered her.

"Well, ladies, it's been nice talking to you, but it's time for my program."

"You've been very helpful," Josie said.

"You call me if you need anything more," Myrtle said. "I'm glad Lori's leaving the complex at the end of the month. She had the nerve to complain that my TV was too loud. Can you believe that?"

Myrtle turned up the television sound to rap-concert level.

Chapter 27.

"Josie, open your fridge. There's a little surprise in it," Jane said.

"Let me get my coat off, Mom. I just got in the door," Josie said.

She threw her coat on a kitchen chair, hunched her shoulder to hold the receiver, and opened the fridge. The milk, meat, cheese, and a lone tomato were piled in a corner. The fridge light was filtered through enough beer and wine coolers to stock a bar.

"Wow, Mom, that's what I called a full refrigerator. There's barely room for the milk. What's going on?"

"I want to give a little Christmas party for the neighbors," Jane said. "I got the beer and wine coolers on sale."

"Isn't it a little soon after Nate's death for a party, Mom?"

"It's just a gesture to mend fences," Jane said. "A little food, a little music. You and Nate had those terrible fights on our porch. Having the police and ambulance here didn't help."

"I'm sorry about the fights, Mom. Our good neighbor Mrs. Mueller reported the details to the police-and the rest of the block. The detectives questioned Mike and me the day of Nate's memorial service. We have her to thank for that."

"Josie, I'm trying to calm things down and restore your reputation."

"My rep is gone, Mom, and I'm too old to care. But I am grateful for the wine coolers. If I start drinking now, I should be calm enough by the party to say h.e.l.lo to Mrs. Mueller without punching her out."

"Josie Marcus!"

"I was joking, Mom. When is this shindig?"

"Next Sat.u.r.day. It's going to be at your place. Some of our neighbors are too old to climb the stairs to my flat."

"Mom, when am I going to have time to clean my home?"

"Amelia and I will handle that. She's helping me bake now. She'll be downstairs in about ten minutes."

"How's she doing?"

"As well as can be expected, considering." Jane's voice was crisp as new lettuce.

"So who's invited, besides the usual suspects? Mike, I hope."

"Yes, and he can bring that daughter of his, too."

"I'll put up with Heather for Mike's sake. But Doreen is not invited, Mom."

"Of course not, dear. I wouldn't think of it. But your friend Alyce can come, especially if she brings a dish. She's a wonderful cook."

"I'll tell her the price of admission," Josie said. "Mom, it's almost seven. I need to pick up something at the store. Can you keep Amelia for an hour?"

"Of course."

"Wait! There's a knock at the front door. I'll be right back."

Josie peeked out and saw a meek little man holding a plain white envelope. He sported a dyed black comb-over and a white down jacket that made him look like a snowman. The guy seemed harmless. She opened the door and said, "Yes?"

"Josie Marcus?" the man asked.

"That's me."

He handed her the envelope. "Consider yourself served." He said it so fast it sounded like one word. He ran off.

Served? She was being sued? Who would do that?

Josie opened the envelope with shaking fingers and read through the legalese. She was supposed to appear in civil court on February 19. Josie and Suttin Services, her mystery shopping company, were being sued by Doreen for damages to her business, Naughty or Nice. Doreen wanted five hundred thousand dollars for Josie's inaccurate, libelous, and biased report.

"Over my dead body," Josie screamed. She'd better call Harry.

She found the phone dangling from its cord in the kitchen. "Josie?" her mother said. "What's wrong?"

"Doreen is suing me for my mystery-shopper report."

"Can she do that?" Jane asked.

"She can and she did. Will she get anywhere? I doubt it. I had Alyce for a witness and I've kept the cake slice with the c.o.c.kroach. I have to call Harry, Mom. Then I'll leave for my errand and be right back. I promise."

Josie hung up on her mother and called Harry. Her awful boss sounded disgustingly cheerful. "Oh, yeah, the lawsuit. I wouldn't worry about it, Josie. She can't win. Our lawyers will handle it."

And if they can't, I'm out of work, Josie thought. Which would suit you fine. "Harry, I have a witness," she said. "And I have the gingerbread cake with the roach in it."

"Save it for the lawyers, Josie. See you in court."

"Wait, Harry. Is there any work for me?"

"I don't think it would be a good idea under the circ.u.mstances," he said. "But don't worry. It will all be over in February-one way or the other. Merry Christmas."

He hung up.

Merry Christmas, indeed, she thought. How am I going to pay the bills when I'm out of work for almost two months? Well, it won't do any good to stand in the kitchen and fume. Josie threw on her coat again and ran for her car. One crisis at a time, she told herself.

It was six thirty when she arrived at the Naughty or Nice shop lot. The store was locked and dark. There was no sign of Doreen's ancient VW Bug. The picketers were gone.

Josie parked behind the store, where her car couldn't be seen from Manchester Road. The Dumpster was surrounded by a high fence, but the fence gate wasn't locked. It creaked loudly when Josie opened it.

The old Dumpster was dripping rust trails and leaking something slimy. Josie threw back the heavy lid and peeked in. There were only four trash bags in the bottom, and she was too short to reach them. The stink was ferocious. She took off her coat, pulled over a heavy plastic bucket for a ladder, held her breath, and jumped in the Dumpster.

Terrific, she thought. Dumpster diving at my age. If only Mom could see me now. I wonder how this will help my reputation?

Josie threw the four bags over the edge of the Dumpster, then crawled back out and began opening them. The first was filled with typing paper and old foam coffee cups. Some of the liquid dripped on her jeans. Josie swore and was glad Amelia wasn't there to hear her.

The second bag had enough foam packing peanuts to feed an army of foam squirrels.

The third, and smelliest, bag had the remains of several lunches and old coffee grounds. The last one had broken ornaments, an elf whose South Pole had snapped off, bits of glitter, and broken china. Josie had hoped to find a container of antifreeze so she could nail Doreen. She'd love to sic the cops on that woman, especially after Doreen had filed a lawsuit.

Josie closed the bags and dropped them back into the Dumpster, then put on her coat. She thought she caught the faint perfume of trash on her hands. She was back home by 7:10, showered by 7:20.

Josie called her mother after she'd dried her hair. Jane promised to send Amelia down. "She made supper, too, Josie."

"I can't wait," Josie said. She set the table.

Amelia tapped on the back door. She was carrying a warm ovenproof dish, wrapped in towels and sealed with duct tape. Josie's mother was taking no chances with her only grandchild.

"Smells good," Josie said.

"I made it myself," Amelia said. "Tuna noodle ca.s.serole with potato chips on top."

"Just the way I like it," Josie said.

"And no vegetables," Amelia said. "Except mushroom soup."

Josie, in a bid for healthy eating, had once added veggies to Amelia's beloved mac and cheese. Amelia approached Josie's dinners warily after that experiment.

"There are brownies for dessert," Amelia added. "That's the foil package on top."

Josie praised her daughter's cooking, taking two helpings of tuna ca.s.serole. "You're as good a cook as your grandmother. I'm glad you didn't inherit my cooking skills."

"Me, too," Amelia said. She looked pleased by the compliment. There was no mention of her father. Amelia was more subdued than usual, but she seemed to be coping with her grief.

They finished washing up by eight o'clock. Amelia went to her room to IM her friends and do her homework.

Josie called Alyce. "Are you busy?" she asked.

"I can talk until Jake gets home," Alyce said.

"Mom's giving a party for everyone, and you're invited."

"Good. What shall I bring? A roasted garlic and herb dip?"

"Yum," Josie said. She gave her friend the party time and details, then told her about Doreen's lawsuit.

"She didn't!" Alyce said. "You still have the cake with the roach, right?"

"Yes," Josie said. "It's in the freezer."

"Oh," Alyce said. "Remind me not to have dinner at your house."

"It's all wrapped up and has POISON, DO NOT EAT on it, so Amelia won't touch it. Besides, my daughter is a better cook than I am."

Josie waited for Alyce to say, "That's not difficult," but she didn't take that cheap shot.

"I've got another problem," Josie said. "Harry won't give me any a.s.signments until after the court date."

"He can't do that, can he? You can't be punished for doing your job."

"I don't know if he can," Josie said. "But he did."

"Josie, can you fax me your contract? I want to read it. If it says what I think it does, I want to read him the riot act."

"I'll fax it from Kinko's in about half an hour," Josie said. "Oh, one more thing. I searched Doreen's trash at the store. I was looking for antifreeze bottles."

"You what?" Alyce said. "Are you crazy?"

"Crazy enough to climb into a slimy Dumpster," Josie said. "But I'm convinced that Doreen is behind the deaths at the Elf House. She hated Elsie, she wanted to close down her rival's store, and she didn't care who got in her way."

"Josie, if she's suing you, you need to stay away from her," Alyce said. "Besides, if Doreen did poison two people she would have disposed of those antifreeze bottles long ago."

"I'm not sure anymore. But I have to find who killed Nate, if only for my peace of mind-and Mike's. He's going to be a suspect until the real killer is caught."

"Josie, take the advice of your non-lawyer, please. Stay away from that woman. Promise?"

"Gotta go," Josie said, and hung up quickly, before she promised anything.

Josie found Amelia standing at the kitchen door. "Something wrong?" Josie asked.