Motherhood Is Murder Part 16

Bruce rose. 'Go ahead and get that if you need to. You want a margarita or a beer or something? I think I need a drink.'

I dug into the backpack for the offending noise and shook my head. Bruce disappeared down the steps as I examined the incoming call. I didn't recognize the number but pressed the accept b.u.t.ton anyway.

'h.e.l.lo?'

'Kate? This is Hank . . . um . . . your mom's friend?'

Hank? This was Mom's other boyfriend. What was he doing calling me?

'Yeah. Hi, Hank.'

'Sorry to bother you, Kate. It's just that I was concerned about your mom. I haven't heard from her in a couple days and, well, we're leaving tonight on our Mexican cruise. I wanted to be sure she had all the information . . . and . . . well, at our age you can't be too careful, right? Just wanted to know that she was okay.'

What could I say? She's wine tasting with another fellow?

'Oh, Hank, that is so sweet. Yes, Mom is fine. Just busy. But she's totally fine. I'm sure she'll be there tonight. She's really looking forward to the trip. Shall I have her call you?'

'I don't want to be a bother . . .'

'I'm sure it's not a bother . . . let me take down your number.'

What did I know? Maybe Mom was giving him the brush-off. Still, I didn't have to be the one to break the bad news, right?

I rummaged frantically through my diaper purse, but couldn't come up with a pen in time. I double-checked the number he gave me against the one my phone had picked up. We said good-bye and hung up. I contemplated dialing Mom right then, but decided against it. Bruce would be back any minute.

I studied Laurie, still snoozing in her bucket. I reached over and felt her tummy extend and deflate. Good.

I finished the salmon and grilled corn on my plate and waited.

What was taking Bruce so long?

Maybe he was checking on Celia.

Bored, I decided to dial Mom.

She picked up on the third ring. 'Kate? Is everything all right?'

I smiled to myself. Now that Mom had a cell phone, she seemed proud to be 'on call' 24/7. 'Everything's fine, except your boyfriend called me looking for you.'

'My who?'

'Hank called me, Mom.'

'Oh dear! Well, yes, yes, thank you for the message, Kate.'

I imagined her trying to act coy with Galigani at her side. A wicked impulse struck me. 'You owe me, Mom. I lied lied for you! Kept your fish on the line, so to speak.' for you! Kept your fish on the line, so to speak.'

'Yes, dear. Well, thank you very much for that. I appreciate it. Oh! Look at this-we're at Cakebread Cellars!'

'It's okay, you can try and act busy, but I need you to work on Galigani for me. If he's well enough to gallivant through Napa with you, then he's well enough to supervise me or whatever. Besides, I really don't need any supervision.'

'I have to go, honey. Kiss little Laurie for me. Thanks for calling.'

'Will you do it?'

'Mmm-hmm,' Mom answered in a singsong fas.h.i.+on and disconnected.

I pulled out my notebook and rummaged deeper into my backpack. I had to have something to write with. I'd never make it as a PI without a pen!

I finally found a pencil with a very dull tip in one of the pack's side pockets. Still enough to jot some ideas down:

1. Why would Helene lie to Margaret about Bruce not wanting kids?

2. What did Helene's death mean to Bruce? Another chance at marriage and having kids? What about the impending adoption?

Finally, I heard Bruce's footsteps on the staircase. He was carrying a mixed drink in one hand and a beer in the other. He resumed his seat across from me and set both drinks in front of himself.

'Bruce, are you planning any construction projects?'

He sighed. 'Yeah. Helene and I wanted to put an extension on the condo. Because of the baby.'

'Did you decide to cancel the project?'

He shook his head. 'Well, I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do.'

'Do you know if Helene canceled the project?'

'No. She wouldn't have canceled the project. Why would she cancel? No.'

So maybe Sara was right and Helene hadn't canceled the construction, but why would Evelyn lie?

Bruce took a sip of the mixed drink. 'I'd love to have children. But h.e.l.l, I'm not around much. How am I going to raise a kid all by myself?'

I watched as his face contorted. Anger flashed across his eyes and was replaced by a distant look. He gripped the mixed drink, then made a satisfied sound as he drained the gla.s.s. 'I work all the time. I have very demanding clients. Even this.' He waved his hand around. 'My being out this week. Sure the firm will send out a letter to my clients, but it's very hard to be away.'

He pushed the empty gla.s.s away from himself and grabbed the beer.

'I know you spoke with the ME. Can you share anything with me that might help me figure out what happened that night?'

He fingered the beer and sat in silence. 'He didn't tell me much. Just asked if Helene used drugs. I told him she didn't. He kind of kept questioning me along those lines. Asked about drinking and smoking and stuff. Helene drank that night, sure.' He took a swig of beer. 'We all did. But I don't think she drank enough to have alcohol poisoning or anything. And she was using these nicotine patches to try and get off the cancer sticks. We both wanted the house to be smoke free for when the baby came. But that's it. That's pretty much all I could tell him.'

'Bruce, early in the evening, do you remember being at the bar with Helene, Margaret, and her husband? Margaret told me you all were at the bar and then Sara and her husband came over. Apparently you men were discussing investments-'

'Oh! Yeah, sure. Howard was grilling me on the market. It's not a surprise we're all very concerned about it tanking.'

'Do you think maybe Helene and Margaret got their drinks mixed up?' I asked.

Bruce looked curiously blank. 'I don't know. Where are you going with this?'

It didn't feel right to share Margaret's fears with him. How could I tell him his wife may have accidentally been murdered?

No. I didn't know that for sure anyway. I shouldn't get him upset about something I couldn't yet prove.

Instead I said, 'Can you think of anyone that would want to hurt Helene?'

'I really don't know, Kate. As far as I know, she was pretty well liked. I mean in the mommy group and everything . . . even though, you know, she wasn't one of them yet.'

'What about her relations.h.i.+p with Evelyn?'

Bruce looked blank.

'Evelyn was in the mommy group. There was an incident with her kid biting Sara's baby . . .'

Bruce finished the beer. 'I didn't keep track of the ins and outs of the group. You should ask Margaret.'

I nodded.

He hung his head. 'You know, Kate, my grandma died a few weeks ago. She had terminal cancer. And she was old and all, and we expected it . . . but Helene . . .'

He covered his face with his hands.

I sat in silence while he collected himself. 'I'm going to do all I can to try and figure out what happened to Helene.'

He stood. 'Thank you, Kate. Margaret said you're great. I'm sure SF's finest can use all the help they can get, and if Margaret says that's you, then that's enough for me.'

Margaret had said I was great?

Nothing like a little peer pressure.

I packed my notebook into my backpack. Bruce wrapped his hands around Laurie's bucket handle. 'Do you want me to carry her down?'

'Please.'

We walked down the staircase. Bruce settled Laurie at my feet and headed straight to the bar. He poured himself another whiskey.

'Were you going to drive Celia home?' I asked.

Bruce glanced at his watch. 'Oh, geez. I forgot about Celia. She's been out a long time. I hope she's okay.'

'I can probably take her home. Do you want me to check on her?'

'Thanks, Kate. That'd be great.' He drained his gla.s.s and refilled it. 'First door on the right.'

I watched him settle himself into the couch and study his drink.

Poor guy.

I knocked on the guest bedroom door.

No answer.

I cracked the door and peeked in. Celia was lying on top of the covers, her shoes still on. Her hands folded across her stomach.

'Celia,' I whispered from the doorway.

She lay perfectly still. I cleared my throat and whispered a little louder. 'Celia!'

When she didn't move, I entered the room and laid my hand gently on hers. She was cold. I shook her. 'Celia!'

She was pale and deathly still.

Uh-oh!

I grabbed her wrist and shook her furiously. 'Wake up!'

When she didn't move, I raced toward the door. I rammed my shoulder into the doorway and winced. Pain shot down my arm. I grabbed my shoulder.

'Bruce! Bruce, call 9-1-1!'

Bruce jumped to his feet. 'What's the matter? Did you hurt yourself?'

'I'm okay.' I rubbed my shoulder. 'It's Celia.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Sucker

Bruce and I sat on the couch, each holding a tumbler of whiskey. We heard sirens making their way down the street. I was shaking uncontrollably and Bruce kept telling me to drink the whiskey. I couldn't make myself do it.

As the sirens screamed closer, Laurie stirred in her bucket. She opened one eye and peered up at me.

Go back to sleep, I prayed. I prayed.

The second eye opened and both stared at me.

I froze, hoping my statue stance might bore her back to sleep.

Now her mouth opened to match both eyes.