Motherhood Is Murder Part 21

'Ah, together we'll be okay.'

'Yeah, the postpartum detective and her prenatal side-kick.'

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

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To Do:

1. ?

2. Catch up on e-mails.

3. . Find maid/nanny. . Find maid/nanny.

4. Laurie swim cla.s.ses?-Yes-sign up.

5. Order girdle thing.

I watched from across the street as Paula entered the cafe. Only the tables in the window were visible. She disappeared; presumably she was at the counter ordering.

I pulled out my cell phone and retrieved the messages I had ignored earlier: one from Mom, one from Paula, and one from Margaret. Mom had called as she was getting ready to board her flight to Mexico:

'Darling! When I was in Napa today at Cakebread Cellars, I talked Albert into being your mentor and letting you use his license. My flight is boarding now but I'll be home in a few days. Call you then. Love you! Kisses to Laurie and Jim.'

I closed my eyes.

What did I feel? Relief? Betrayal?

I was extremely relieved Mom had gotten on her flight and missed Jim's call about Laurie and me. But at the same time I felt like I was betraying her. If she knew about the hospital, she'd tell Albert Galigani to forget sponsoring me.

But if I had his sponsors.h.i.+p, Jim would let me continue on the case . . .

Paula's message:

'Girl! I am home! Paris was trs magnifique trs magnifique but I'm happy to be back. What are you doing tomorrow?' but I'm happy to be back. What are you doing tomorrow?'

Margaret's message:

'Kate! Bruce just called me on his way to the police station. He said you and Celia were rushed to the hospital . . . Oh my G.o.d. I hope you are all right. Please call me.'

As I was about to dial Margaret, Paula came back into view and sat in one of the window tables. She placed a paper cup on the sill, then pulled out her cell phone and connected a pair of headphones to it. She put the headphones on and tapped her foot to no music, our sign that she thought Bruce was there.

I crossed the street and entered the cafe. Bruce was sitting in a table in the corner, close enough to Paula for her to eavesdrop comfortably.

He stood as he saw me and smiled nervously. 'Kate, thank you so much for meeting me.' His eyes lowered to his hands and he seemed to be searching for words.

I positioned the chair opposite him in such a way that I could face him and see Paula at the next table. I sat. 'It's okay, Bruce. Sit down.'

He crumpled into his chair looking much slimmer than he had a few short days before.

What, the guy doesn't eat for a day and he withers away to nothing?

Life's so unfair.

He had beard stubble and looked exhausted, although his hair was impeccable along with his sweater and jeans. In fact, the jeans looked ironed.

Do people really iron their jeans?

'Can I get you a latte or a cap or something?' Bruce asked.

I shook my head. He fiddled with his cup and nodded.

On the walk over, Paula and I had decided ordering coffee here was probably safe. But while waiting on the corner, I'd imagined Bruce slipping a mickey into my coffee. How ridiculous could I get? Yet, it was easier on my neurotic mind just to skip the drink entirely instead of obsessively watching for any sleight of hand.

'So you were at the police station yesterday? Want to bring me up to date?' I asked.

'How did you know?' he asked.

Before I could answer he said, 'Oh, Margaret, right?'

I nodded. 'She left me a message.'

He closed his eyes. 'Jesus, Kate. These have been the worst days of my life. First Helene, that awful night on the boat . . . Then yesterday. Celia getting sick, you and your baby being rushed to the hospital . . . She's okay, right? Your baby?'

I nodded.

Bruce swallowed. 'And then when you were being taken by the EMTs, you thought . . . you thought it was me. h.e.l.l, the cops sure do. They came by my place and escorted me-that's what they called it-escorted me downtown for questioning. I thought finding out Helene was dead was the worst low of my life. And I think it was. But being questioned for her murder. It just . . .'

He put his face in his hands and took several deep breaths.

I glanced at Paula; the expression on her face was skeptical.

Bruce looked up at me. 'The only thing left to happen is the stock market can crash.' He laughed maniacally and several patrons turned to look at us. Bruce ran his fingers through his hair. 'Sorry. Christ, I'm losing it.'

I sat in silence, watching him and waiting for him to continue.

After a moment he said, 'You wouldn't believe the calls I've been getting. Clients I've had for years, good clients, great clients, calling me to give condolences and then at the same time asking me about their portfolio. Like I give a rat's a.s.s, right now, what the h.e.l.l their IRA's doing.'

As if on cue, his BlackBerry buzzed on the table.

'Screw off,' Bruce said, hitting a b.u.t.ton on the phone to silence it.

'Have you hired an attorney?' I asked.

Bruce nodded. 'Sure. I didn't know any criminal defense guys, but fortunately a strategic partner I have, an estates lawyer, recommended a buddy of his. Guy by the name of Gary Barramendi. Good guy. Works fast. The mere mention of the guy's name had everybody over there shaking in their boots, so maybe I got lucky.'

I made a mental note to commit the attorney's name to memory. I'd ask Galigani about him.

'What did you tell the police?'

'Nothing. Gary put the muzzle on me superquick. He said that a charge is waiting in the wings. As soon as the evidence piles up against me. Witnesses or whatever. See, that's why I need you, Kate. I was with you the entire time up on the deck. You know I didn't poison Celia.'

There had been a while he'd been gone. I had been on the phone with Mom.

I bit my lips.

And then, what about before I arrived? Surely he could have given her something before I got there.

'I don't think you poisoned her while I was there. She was already feeling ill when I got there.'

Bruce looked crestfallen. 'You think I did it.'

I shrugged my shoulders noncommittally.

A few strangers wandered into the cafe and proceeded to order at the counter. The whipping sounds of milk being steamed and the smell of espresso made my mouth water.

Bruce frowned. 'But why would I try to hurt Celia when I knew you were coming over? That would be insane! I know you're a PI, for Christ's sake!'

'It does set you up with a pretty nice alibi.'

Bruce scratched his head. 'This is going from bad to worse. You think I asked you over for lunch so I could poison Celia and then point to you as the witness who says I didn't do it?'

'I don't know how likely that possibility is, Bruce.' I pressed my lips together and fixed my eyes on him.

He covered his mouth. 'This is rich.' He fiddled with his empty coffee cup and muttered, 'I need a real frigging drink.' He closed his eyes and stewed.

I glanced at Paula, she nodded encouragingly at me.

I still couldn't think of why he would want to hurt Celia, so I asked, 'Why did they say you poisoned her anyhow?'

His eyes flicked open. 'What?'

'What motive did the cops try and pin on you?'

Bruce smiled sadly. 'They didn't give me a motive, per se. The questions they asked all centered around how Celia must have known something. Must have had something on me and I would have wanted her out of the way. And they didn't disguise the fact that they thought I was stupid for trying to kill her in front of you. Sort of like a jacka.s.s drawing a neon arrow above his own head.'

'What can you tell me about Margaret?'

Bruce shrugged. 'What do you want to know?'

'Was her husband cheating on her?'

He glanced at his nails, suddenly looking spent. 'See, that's something Helene would have known. And if she did, she never said anything about it to me. What does Margaret say about it?'

'She thinks her husband is trying to kill her, that he mistakenly killed Helene that night instead.'

The color drained from Bruce's face. He looked as if I'd landed a punch square in the solar plexus. 'What!'

'I believed her at first, but now it makes no sense. Alan didn't poison Celia yesterday.'

Bruce turned red and raised his voice. 'We don't even know if she was poisoned yet.'

Paula sat up at attention.

Bruce covered his face with his hands. 'I can't take much more of this. I need those toxicology results to come out, so I can prove that I had nothing to do with any of this.'

'How would you prove that?' I asked.

He shrugged. 'I don't know. Hopefully, Gary can think of a way. Will you talk to him?'

I sat back in my chair, a bit stunned. 'About what?'

'Tell him what you know. I think he can help us.'

'Us?'

'Well, okay, me. Gary can help me, but I think you need to help Gary.'

I saw Paula craning to get my attention. Once she had it, she nodded firmly.

'All right, I'll meet with Gary. Give him my number, and he and I can set up a meeting.'

Bruce nodded distractedly as he picked up his BlackBerry and pressed several b.u.t.tons. His fingers flashed across the phone. When he'd finished, he looked up at me. 'Okay. Done. I asked him to share my file with you.'

Share his file?

I couldn't believe my luck! I was going to get my unlicensed unlicensed hands on some real information! hands on some real information!

We said good-bye and I watched him leave. As soon as he was out of sight, Paula slipped into his empty chair.