A Playdate With Death

by Ayelet Waldman

  “How did it all end?”

  “I guess we all just told Bobby how much we loved him again, and he told us that he loved us, too. And then we never really talked about it much as a family again.”

  “But you talked about it with Bobby?”

  “Yeah, one other time. He had given me a free training session for my birthday, so I came down to his gym in Hollywood. He told me that he was looking for his birth mother, and we started imagining what she was like. We figured that she was Jewish, since the adoption had come through Jewish Family Services. Bobby was sure she had been really young, probably a teenager, and that she’d given him up because she wasn’t able to care for him. He was confident that she’d be interested in meeting him, particularly since so much time had passed, and he obviously wasn’t after anything from her. He said that it was even possible that she was looking for him, too.”

  “Did he ever tell you that he found her?”

  “No, but he did, didn’t he?”

  I wondered for a moment whether I should tell Michelle what I knew. I decided to; she was Bobby’s sister. She loved him. She had a right to know. “Yes, he did,” I said.

  “And was she a teenager? I mean, when she gave him up?”

  “No, she was young, in her midtwenties, but she was married. Her husband was off fighting in Vietnam, and she had an affair.”

  Michelle nodded. “That makes sense, I guess. Was she Jewish?”

  “No, Catholic.”

  “Then why did she go through a Jewish adoption agency? And how did Bobby get Tay-Sachs? Was the father Jewish?”

  “He must have been. It’s a little confusing.” I told her about Reuben Nadelman.

  “But if he isn’t a Tay-Sachs carrier, and neither is she, then there’s something wrong. He can’t be the father.”

  “Right.”

  “So who is?”

  “That’s one of the things I’ve been trying to figure out.”

  “Did she have an affair with anyone else?”

  “Not that she’s told me about. But I suppose she must have.”

  “That person would have to be the Tay-Sachs carrier, then. You know, his father doesn’t have to be Jewish. The disease is not limited to Jews, it’s just more prevalent in the Ashkenazic Jewish population.”

  “I know. It also appears in French Canadians and Cajuns.”

  “And in the general population, too,” she said, “it’s just very, very rare.”

  We sat quietly for a moment. Then Michelle said, “Was Bobby’s birth mother glad when he found her? Was she happy to see him?”

  I shook my head. “No. She wasn’t. She’s still married to the same man and has two kids. I think she was terrified her family would find out about Bobby.”

  Michelle buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God. Poor Bobby. How awful. How awful to find your mother and have her reject you.”

  I put my hand on hers to soften what I was about to say. “Is it possible that being rejected by his birth mother, especially given the difficult relationship he had with your parents, might have made him so depressed he would consider taking his own life?”

  Her shoulders shook with sobs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Oh, poor Bobby. Poor, poor Bobby.”

  “Michelle,” I said, “Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Bobby? Someone who might have a grudge against him?”

  She shook her head. “Absolutely not. You know Bobby. He was the most easygoing guy in the world. He would never hurt anybody, and nobody would want to hurt him.”

  “What about when he was using drugs? Did he make any enemies that you know of?” It’s hard to get through life as a drug addict without pissing off a few people.

  “No. Honestly. The only person he hurt was himself.”

  “Was he ever in any trouble with dealers? Was there ever a time when he couldn’t pay for his drugs? When he owed money to people?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t really know anything about his life back then. He did a good job of hiding all that from us. Even when he was at his worst, he tried to protect us from knowing the truth. None of us even realized that there was anything wrong until he checked himself into rehab.”

  I paused for a moment, wondering how she’d respond to my next question. “I have to ask this. Do you think that anyone in your family might have any reason to harm Bobby?”

  Her face paled. “No. Absolutely not. We loved Bobby. Maybe we didn’t do that good of a job of showing it, but we loved him. None of us would have hurt him. I know that.”

  I hoped, for her sake, that she was right.

  Eighteen

  BOTH kids fell asleep in the backseat on the way home from the mall. Peter carried Ruby out of the car, and I hoisted Isaac onto my shoulder and staggered in behind him. It’s amazing how heavy a sleeping toddler is. Shushing each other, we tiptoed through the dark house and gently laid the kids in their beds. I considered wiping the dried ketchup off their faces but wasn’t willing to risk waking them. Peter turned the TV on to his favorite B-movie channel, and I went into the kitchen to make myself a cup of chamomile tea. I could already tell I was going to need some help falling asleep.

  While I was waiting for the water to boil, I noticed the light flashing on the answering machine. The first message was from my friend Stacy.

  “Listen, girl, you just lucked out in a major way. One of my colleagues came back from maternity leave. She told me that her feet grew an entire size while she was pregnant. She used to be a five and a half. Like you. Now she’s a six and a half. I bought her entire collection of Manolo Blahniks for you. You are the proud owner of nine pair of stunning shoes. And you owe me nine hundred dollars.”

  I was about to pick up the phone and describe to Stacy exactly what my life was like and how drastically it would have to change to accommodate nine pairs of secondhand stiletto heels, when the answering machine began its next message. An electronically distorted voice warned me, “If you care about what happens to your kid, mind your own business.”

  In my years dealing with criminals of all sorts, I’d never once been threatened. I’d represented drug dealers who had never been anything but polite. I’d had young men from the Crips and the Bloods treat me with respect and affection. My heroin addict bank robbers never intimidated me. Even the violent offenders had been decent to me, if not to their victims. I’d made prosecutors mad enough to call me all kinds of terrible names, but no one had ever threatened my physical safety. Now, while investigating a supposed suicide, someone was menacing my children.

  “What the hell was that?” Peter stood in the doorway, looking grim. Wordlessly, I hit the Replay button and together we listened to the ominous voice.

  While the message played, I dialed *69 but was informed by a polite automaton that the call return feature couldn’t be used to return our last incoming call.

  “Caller ID?” Peter said.

  I pressed the button on the back of the receiver. It flashed “Private Caller.” I shook my head.

  “No luck,” I said.

  “I’m calling the cops.”

  “Good idea.”

  The Los Angeles Police Department proved itself courteous and prompt, if not particularly reassuring, although I’m not sure what Peter and I expected them to do. Two patrol officers came out to the house and walked around the yard. They didn’t find anyone, but then we hadn’t expected them to. Peter had taped the threatening message off of our digital answering machine with the microcassette recorder he used to take notes for his scripts, and he gave the tape to the officers.

  When they left, he turned to me. “What are we going to do?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Tomorrow morning, I’ll call the Santa Monica Police and talk to whoever was assigned to Bobby’s case. Maybe they’ll reopen it, given all this.”

  Peter began pacing back and forth. “Should we leave the house? Go to a hotel or something?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I mean
, the warning was to stop. I’m obviously not going to do anything tonight, so I think we’re probably safe.”

  “Probably? Juliet, do you honestly think that’s good enough? The guy threatened our kid. Are you willing to take a chance? I’m sure as hell not.”

  Something occurred to me. “Why just one?”

  “What?”

  “Why did he, or she for that matter, threaten just one of the kids? Why not both?”

  Peter stared at me like I’d gone mad. “I don’t know, and frankly I couldn’t care less. Threatening one of them is good enough for me. I’m having a hard time understanding why you aren’t more upset about this.”

  “I am upset. I’m scared and I’m angry, but I’m also going to do my damnedest to find out what’s going on. Why did the person say ‘kid’ and not ‘kids’?”

  Peter sat down in a chair and ran his fingers through his hair. It stood up in agitated spikes all over his head.

  Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. “I’m going to call Al,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Al. I told you he’s gone into the independent investigation business. I’m going to hire him to protect us. It probably won’t cost any more than going to a hotel, and I know I’d feel safer with him around. Who knows how long it’ll be before the police take me seriously, let alone find out who’s been doing this? At this point, I’m not even confident I’ll be able to convince them to reopen Bobby’s case.”

  AL showed up an hour later, accompanied by a lanky young woman with dark curls held off her face in a ponytail tied with a purple beaded elastic band. She was wearing tight lavender jeans and an LAPD sweatshirt and carried the long duffel Al had brought to the shooting range.

  “Never leave weapons in an unattended vehicle,” she said by way of greeting and extended her hand to me. I shook it, marveling as I did so at the tiny gemstones imbedded in her purple nails.

  “You must be Robyn,” I said.

  “Yup. Nice to meet you. My dad talks about you all the time. He says he’d like you a lot if you weren’t such a bleeding-heart liberal.”

  Al groaned, and I managed a smile.

  I turned to my husband. “Peter, this is Al’s daughter. The Olympic biathelete.”

  “Just an alternate,” she said, shaking his hand firmly.

  “Peter,” Al said. “How would you and the kids like to spend a couple of days with my daughter at our cabin in Big Bear? There’s no snow on the ground, and it’s too cold to swim, but you guys could do some hiking. We’ve even got a hot tub.”

  Peter frowned at me. “Is this really necessary?”

  I liked the idea. With Peter and the kids out of town, I could concentrate on tracking down the source of the threatening messages without having to worry about them. This situation had stopped being one I could investigate while lugging Isaac and his stroller around with me. Moreover, Robyn, with her rippling muscles, talonlike fingernails, and bag full of guns, looked to be the ideal bodyguard.

  “I think it’s a terrific idea,” I said. “You were just telling me that we should take these threats seriously. I think you’re right. I think we should make sure the kids are safe. And I’m sure they’ll be safe with Robyn.”

  Peter looked over at Robyn, and she nodded resolutely.

  “Okay. Fine. Let’s all go, then,” he said.

  “Peter,” Al interrupted. “If I were you, I’d feel the same way. I’d want to get my little lady out of harm’s way.” I bristled at this, but he ignored me. Robyn rolled her eyes and we shared a rueful smile at her prehistoric father’s blatant sexism. “But Juliet’s the only person who can figure out who’s responsible for the threats. She’s got to retrace all her steps over the past couple of weeks and try to come up with a list of suspects to take to the police officers investigating the case. But don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of her for you.”

  That really was too much. “Thanks, Al, but I can take care of myself. I could definitely use another person to help me investigate, though. If you’re volunteering,” I said.

  Al opened his mouth to retort, but Peter spoke first. “Robyn can take the kids up to Big Bear. I’m staying here with you. What if this guy is serious? No way I’m letting you be here by yourself.”

  I kissed him on the cheek. “That’s so sweet, honey, and I really do appreciate it. But Ruby and Isaac don’t know Robyn. We can’t just send them off with someone they’ve never met. Plus, I don’t think Robyn signed on for baby-sitting duties.”

  The young woman shook her head. “There’s not a lot I can’t handle, but I think a couple of little kids might be beyond me.”

  I said, “One of us has to go with them, and like Al said, if we’re going to figure out who is responsible, I’ve got to stay here.”

  We could all see Peter struggling with himself. It has always amazed me how even men who’ve grown up believing that women are their equals and are competent and strong enough to protect themselves, even men who would call themselves feminists, have a ribbon of machismo running through their personalities. Peter and I certainly have a marriage of equals. Not even the fact that he was currently the sole wage earner had changed that. Nonetheless, when faced with the possibility of peril for his woman, I could see my white knight aching to pick up his lance and head off to battle. Except he knew as well as I did that somebody had to take care of the kids.

  The look of resignation in my husband’s face inspired me to give him another kiss on the cheek. His pride wounded by the indignity of having to run out of town, he shook me off. I turned to Robyn.

  “It’s late. Do you want to wait until morning before heading up to Big Bear? You can take the guest room, and I can make up the couch for you, Al,” I said.

  “You know, I think I’d rather go now. I don’t want to try to drive through morning rush hour. The freeways will be empty now, and we’ll make really good time. That is, if you don’t mind,” Robyn said, turning to Peter.

  “That’s fine,” Peter said, surrendering. “I’ll just go pack a few things. Juliet, you get the kids’ stuff together. How long do you think we’ll be gone?”

  “A couple of days, no more,” Al said. “Don’t worry about food and things. Jeanelle’s been up at the cabin for the last few days doing some work in the garden. I’m sure she’s got the kitchen fully stocked.”

  “Does she mind my family invading like this?” I asked. “I hate to impose on her time away from the city.”

  “Not at all. Not at all. She’s looking forward to the company. Jeanelle loves kids, and since she’s not likely to get a grandchild any time soon, she’s delighted to have yours to play with.” Robyn rolled her eyes once again and settled herself into a chair to wait for us to pack and get ready.

  While Peter put together an overnight case for himself, I packed two or three tons of supplies for the kids. Every time I travel with the children, I remember my days of adventure travel when I saw the sights of Asia and South America weighed down by nothing more than a lightweight backpack and a camera. Nowadays, it takes a semitrailer, two forklifts, and a U-Haul just to get us out for a morning in the park. By narrowing down their wardrobes to just the bare minimum, I managed to fit the kids’ clothes, bath supplies, baby bottles, hats, extra shoes, toys, and pills, drops, and bandages for any and all emergencies, into two oversized suitcases. Another bag held a supply of juice boxes, rice cakes, Cheerios, and raisins, with a package of chocolate chip cookies tossed in to guarantee good behavior. They were ready to go.

  Miraculously, neither Ruby nor Isaac woke up when we carried them out to the car and loaded them into their car seats. I kissed them on the cheeks, softly enough not to wake them, and watched as they pulled away. I felt a pang in my chest and realized that I’d never been away from Isaac before. This was our first overnight separation. I wondered what my sweet little boy would do when he woke up and found me gone. Have a blast playing cops and robbers with Robyn, probably.

  “She won’t let the kids near the guns, will she?�
� I said to Al.

  He flashed me the fish eye by way of reply.

  Nineteen

  BY the time I got up the next morning, Al had already made the guest room bed with military precision. I resisted the urge to bounce a quarter off the bedspread and went into the kitchen, where I found him eating a bowl of bran flakes.

  “Important for regularity,” he said.

  “Too much information, Al,” I replied and poured myself a cup of coffee. “Are you on the clock?” I asked him.

  “Huh?”

  “The time clock. Am I paying you your hourly rate as we speak?”

  “I don’t bill while I’m sleeping or eating. Otherwise, yes, ma’am.”

  I settled myself on the stool opposite him. “I’d love to have the help, and I’m happy to have the kids and Peter out of harm’s way, but I don’t think we can afford both you and Robyn.”

  He swallowed the last mouthful of his cereal and took a noisy gulp of coffee. “How ’bout we work out a swap for services?” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I provide some muscle on this little project of yours, and the next time I need some advice from a legal eagle, you help me out.”

  I considered his offer. It had been relatively painless to do Al’s legal research. Surely I could offer him those services without impinging too much on car pool and playdates. “Deal,” I said, and we shook on it.

  We began to draw up a list of all the people with whom I’d had contact over the course of my investigation into Bobby’s death. Once we had the names all down on paper, I studied the list.

  “Candace,” I said.

  “Candace?”

  “She’s the creepiest. She’s the one who makes me the most uncomfortable. She’s weird, she’s unpleasant, and she seems to have built up her relationship with Bobby into a great, unrequited love affair. And she saw Isaac but not Ruby when I tracked her down at her job. It makes sense for her to have threatened my kid instead of kids because she has no way of knowing I’ve got two.”