Free Murder With All the Trimmings by Elaine Viets

remembered her daughter was upstairs with Jane. She dialed her mother’s phone.
    “She’s right here,” Jane said. “We’re making brownies.”
    “Oh,” Josie said.
    “You sound subdued,” her mother said. “Is there a problem?”
    “A big one,” Josie said. “Nate has threatened to take Amelia away from me.”
    “Then we’ll have to watch her extra carefully,” Jane said. “One of us will always be there to pick her up and take her to school.”
    “What about if she’s home alone while I’m at work?” Josie didn’t trust her daughter to obey her “don’t answer the doorbell” command if Nate was on the porch with presents.
    “Then I’ll watch her,” Jane said. “I’ll ask Mrs. Mueller for help, too.”
    “If anyone has the talent for this assignment, it’s Mrs. M,” Josie said. “She’s a first-rate snoop.”
    “Josie, that’s not nice,” Jane said. “You know she’s my friend.”
    Josie could never understand why her mother worshiped Mrs. Mueller. The iron-haired woman ruled the neighborhood’s major organizations. Mrs. M appointed her friends to choice assignments and banished her enemies to dreary workhorse committees. But Josie had to force her to give Jane her fair share of the good slots.
    Mrs. M had made Josie’s teenage years a misery. She’d caught young Josie smoking cigarettes back by the garage and ratted her out to Jane. Josie was grounded for a month. She had retaliated by leaving a burning bag of dog doo on Mrs. Mueller’s porch. Mrs. M had stomped the smoking bag with a sturdy shoe, and Josie had been grounded for what seemed like the rest of her teenage life.
    Mrs. M still regarded Josie as a juvenile delinquent. Josie thought the old woman was a witch with a capital C .
    The kitchen coffeemaker had erupted into “just finished” gurgles when Josie’s cell phone rang. She checked the display. Her boss, Harry the Horrible, was calling on a Saturday. This was not good news.
    “Josie, I need you to work this weekend,” Harry said.
    Josie could hear slurping noises and a football game in the background. She was afraid to ask what Harry was eating. Harry claimed to be on the Atkins diet, but that was mainly an excuse to chomp big chunks of meat. He lost the same three pounds over and over.
    Sloop! Slurp! Josie imagined Harry gnawing a mastodon rib. He’d have grease spots on his shirt and clumps of chest hair peeping out between the buttons like baby birds. In the background, Josie could hear a crowd cheering. Josie hoped the cheers were for the TV team, not Harry’s eating capacity.
    “This is a seasonal job and it has to be done fast,” Harry said. “I need you to mystery-shop two Christmas store franchises this weekend.”
    “Which ones?” Josie asked cautiously. She was sure she’d have to doom Doreen’s enterprise.
    “Elsie’s Elf House,” Harry said.
    Josie breathed a sigh of relief. “No problem-o,” she said, sounding like Amelia.
    “And that ditz with the dirty ornaments. I can’t think of the store name. Wait a minute, let me look it up.”
    There was a hollow clattering sound, as if Harry had dropped a large bone, followed by the rustle of paper. Josie’s heart pounded while he searched. Please don’t let it be Doreen, she prayed.
    “Here it is,” Harry said. “Naughty or Nice. The franchisers want to know just how naughty the store is. It could be in violation of their agreement. They may have to shut down the store if it’s offending the Christian community.”
    “I can’t mystery-shop that store,” Josie said. “I know Doreen.”
    “How well?” Harry said. “You neighbors? Eat over at her house three nights a week? Are you godmother to her kids? Is she a relative?” His questions were punctuated with smacking sounds and an ugly bone crack.
    “No, nothing like that,” Josie said. “I’ve never been inside her house.”
    “Then you’re okay.”
    “No, I’m not,” Josie said. “My boyfriend used to date