Motherhood is Murder

by Diana Orgain

  Kenny looked over at us from his table. He made a little sad face showing sympathy then ducked his head again to fiddle with his iPod.

  “What do you feel guilty about?” I asked.

  “Kate.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “It’s all my fault. I’m scared that it’s my fault.”

  “The affair?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “Helene!”

  “I’m not following you.”

  Margaret glanced around the café to see if anyone was listening. At the moment, the only other patron was Kenny, who was vigorously tapping his foot to the beat from his iPod. The barista was refilling the pastry case with chocolate-covered croissants and miniature pumpkin pies. She looked about as interested in our conversation as going to the dentist.

  Despite this, Margaret leaned over and whispered, “I think Alan was trying to kill me and instead killed Helene by accident.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Safekeeping

  I fought to control my shock. “What? Why?” I asked. I was stunned by Margaret’s words. “You think your husband is trying to kill you?”

  Margaret squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She was still holding Laurie and subconsciously pulled her closer.

  “Why do you think that?”

  She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward in the chair, and recounted the evening for me. “While we were getting ready for the cruise, Alan and I kept bickering. Everything was going wrong. Remember we were late? I had confronted him about the affair—well, my suspicions about it, and of course, he denied it. But he got very angry, and even though he denied it . . . I know there’s something going on. He didn’t want to go on the cruise at all. But we never get any time alone together anymore so I forced the issue.”

  She shrugged. “I guess I thought if I cooled my heels and just showed him we could have fun together that he would fall in love with me again.”

  I listened to Margaret in silence. Kenny got up from his table and wiggled his fingers at me and then at the barista on his way out. The barista waved back at Kenny, then looked at our table to see if we needed her. When she noticed we seemed rooted to our chairs, she took off to the back room.

  Margaret wiped her eyes. “We left the house, then Alan doubled back saying he forgot something. When I asked him what—he got very upset and started acting so strange—that I dropped it.”

  “Just because he was mad at you doesn’t mean he was trying to kill you,” I said.

  She put her hand to forehead and rubbed her temple. “There’s more. On the cruise we were at the bar—Helene, Bruce, Alan, and I.” She glanced around the café. “Alan bought the drinks, he grabbed mine from the bar, and I can’t remember exactly—but he seemed to hold on to it for a while, then he sort of made a big deal about which one was mine. Said mine was a double and made a stupid joke about me needing it to loosen up.”

  I nodded and waited for her to continue.

  “Then Sara and her husband came over and the men all started talking about investments or whatever. And Helene and I were chatting and, I don’t recall exactly, but we were messing around and I think we got our drinks mixed up. Remember she was so tipsy. I think she drank mine and I think Alan slipped something into it.”

  “Do you think he went back to the house to get something to put into your drink?”

  “He has a lot of prescription stuff at home. He’s a podiatrist M.D. and he has . . . well, never mind, let’s just say he has access to whatever he wants.”

  “Margaret, have you spoken to the police?”

  Her eyes widened. “Kate, please don’t tell anyone about the drug thing or, really, any of this!”

  Why doesn’t she want me to say anything? That doesn’t make sense.

  “If you think you’re in danger, you have to tell the police.”

  “I called the ME’s office after I spoke with you yesterday. Well, after Alan left. He came home for lunch. Can you believe that? He never comes home for lunch. I think he’s trying to keep tabs on me or something—find out what I know. Anyway, after he left, I called the ME’s office and asked the things you asked me, you know, about broken bones or head trauma and stuff. I pried as much information as I could out of the assistant but she didn’t disclose much, just said they were waiting for the toxicology report and that she couldn’t release any more information. I asked her if it looked like murder and she said the office wasn’t calling it a homicide yet.”

  “Then why were homicide cops at the funeral?”

  Margaret looked surprised. “There were?”

  I nodded.

  Margaret stroked Laurie’s head and looked down at her baby in the stroller. I motioned for her to hand me Laurie. She did, then absently picked up Marcus’s hand and stroked it while he slept.

  “So why would the assistant medical examiner tell me it wasn’t a homicide yet? Do you think she didn’t believe me?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “They probably have a protocol to follow. Did you tell her about the drinks and your suspicion on the mix-up?”

  Margaret begun to cry. “I don’t want him to find out, Kate. I feel like I’m still in danger. I’m a nervous wreck. I’m not eating at home thinking he might poison me somehow. And forget about sleeping next to him.”

  “You have to tell the police. You can’t live like this.” I reached across the table for her hand.

  “I need to know what happened.”

  “Is there somewhere you can go for a while?”

  Margaret shrugged. “Maybe. My mom lives on the peninsula. I was thinking about taking the kids there for a while.”

  “That’s a good idea, but you need to talk to the police first.”

  Margaret dropped her baby’s hand and looked a little like someone had given her an electrical shock. She nodded then closed her eyes tight, but a tear still escaped. “I never thought I would find myself in this situation.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you. I don’t have a PI license.”

  Her baby started fussing.

  She leaned down and grabbed his hand. “What do you mean? A license?”

  “You need several years’ experience before you can apply for your own license and I don’t have that yet.”

  “Kate, I don’t have time to shop this around. I’m scared out of my mind. Please help me.”

  I marched home excitedly.

  I have a case! My career as a PI is taking off.

  She didn’t care that I didn’t have a license; she’d signed my contract without even blinking! I was going to do this with or without Galigani’s support. I did a happy dance with Laurie in the carrier then stopped suddenly when I spotted someone on my front steps.

  Uh-oh!

  It was Inspector McNearny. I froze.

  He semifrowned and semiglared at me. “Mrs. Connolly.”

  I unstuck myself and moved past him on the stairs. I jabbed my key in the front door. “What can I do for you?”

  “Does trouble follow you or are you the cause?”

  I stopped fussing with the door. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  “No.” He tapped his foot impatiently. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about the cruise the other night.”

  “Come on inside.” I opened the door and called out to Jim.

  There was a note on the dining room table.

  Went to watch the game at Jack’s. Tried your cell phone, but it rang in the other room. Please carry with you and ANSWER it when I call.

  Love you!

  P.S. Paula called and your mom, too.

  McNearny hovered in my doorway.

  “Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the living room. “Want anything to drink?”

  He stayed in place and pulled out a notebook. “What can you tell me about the dinner cruise the other night?”

  “I already told Officer Lee all I know. I told him that night. Is it official now? Was Helene killed?” I asked.

  “I ask the questions, Mrs. Connolly,” he said straight-faced.

  “Where’s Jones?” I asked, ignoring his attitude.

  He glanced at the baby carrier I was still weari
ng. “His kid’s sick.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” I said, unsnapping the carrier and pulling a sleeping Laurie out.

  McNearny shrugged. He looked like he could care less about Jones’s kid.

  Probably annoyed about Jones missing work.

  “I saw you at the funeral.” McNearny glanced at his notes.

  “I thought you told Lee that you barely knew the woman.”

  “Does that mean I’m not allowed to attend her service?”

  “Most people wouldn’t. Let’s cut to the chase—are you working on anything currently?”

  “I’m crocheting Laurie a little cap.” I tried to hide my smile and look as serious as he did.

  He turned red around the gills. “Mrs. Connolly, if you want to be difficult, I’ll just drag you downtown. Makes no difference to me.”

  I glanced around for a spot to place Laurie and settled on her tummy time playmat. “All right. I’ll level with you. I just came from a meeting with Margaret Lipe. She thinks her husband poisoned Helene.”

  McNearny looked stunned. He reviewed his notebook. “Is this the doctor we’re talking about?”

  “The podiatrist, yeah,” I said.

  “And did she happen to mention why he might want to do that?”

  “It was an accident.”

  McNearny squinted. “What?”

  “She thinks he was trying to poison her.”

  McNearny shook his head. “Did she tell you what she thought his motive might be?”

  “He’s having an affair. At least she suspects that’s the case. She confronted him that evening. Supposedly he got very angry.”

  McNearny chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Had she hired you to follow him prior to the cruise?”

  “No. Won’t you sit down?”

  “No.”

  “You’re making me nervous standing there like that.”

  “That’s the whole point, Mrs. Connolly.”

  I leaned against my dining room table and exhaled. “Have it your way.”

  “Okay, out with it. She hired you before the cruise. To follow him, right?”

  “No,” I repeated firmly. “Why do you keep asking?”

  He ignored my question. “Why were you on that cruise?”

  “I told Officer Lee that—I was checking out Roo & You.”

  “The mommy club?”

  I nodded.

  McNearny frowned. “What’s a mommy club doing on a dinner cruise? I mean, isn’t the whole point of those things to get the kids to play together or whatever?”

  I ignored the way he practically spat the words “those things.” “That’s one of the purposes, yes.”

  “What about the spouses?”

  “What do you mean?”

  McNearny waved his hand around. “You know, aren’t these mommy clubs just for women?”

  “Are you asking why our spouses were with us on the cruise?”

  McNearny nodded.

  “It was my first meeting with the club. I don’t know all the ins and outs of it. The dinner cruise was supposedly a deviation from their normal meeting. This time they were going to include ‘the boys.’ It sounded fun to me.”

  McNearny’s expression looked sour. Probably to him, the idea of spending time with a bunch of moms sounded like anything but fun.

  “It was an opportunity to meet some new couples that were also parents. Get to know the ladies from the club a little better before joining,” I continued. “I also wanted the adult time with my husband. I didn’t plan on a murder as part of the date, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s what I’m getting at.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t here to accuse me of anything.”

  McNearny looked angry. “I’m not accusing you. Here’s what I think—you were hired by Mrs. Lipe to follow her husband and figure out who he was sleeping with and maybe things got out of hand on the cruise.”

  “Look, I’m telling you that she didn’t hire me before today. Why would I lie about that?”

  McNearny smiled. A huge grin, one that was intended to ridicule me. “You don’t know. Do you?”

  “What? What am I suppose to know?”

  “Not so smart after all.”

  What was I missing? What did he know that I didn’t know?

  “Why are you so hostile to me? I’m the one who helped you solve—”

  His face turned beet red. “You think you helped solve that? We had that case blown open.”

  McNearny and I stared each other down.

  He was dead wrong but challenging him wasn’t going to get me closer to solving this case.

  I swallowed my pride. “Sorry if I stepped on your toes.”

  He stood straighter. “Glad we understand each other.”

  I understood all right.

  He pointed at me. “You don’t have a license and I don’t want you poking around in this case. If she hired you to follow her husband, to find out who he’s sleeping with, that’s one thing, but absolutely no nosing around in this case. You understand?”

  I nodded.

  He grunted.

  Any doubts I’d had about taking the case had just been wiped from my head. I didn’t know how I would do it, but I was committed to solving this case before McNearny. He didn’t care about the victims, only his reputation with the department.

  “So you’re okay if I follow the husband, right?” I tested.

  McNearny shrugged. “Sure, let me know what you find out.”

  I do the footwork, he takes the glory.

  No problem. I didn’t have my ego riding on it. I only wanted the facts.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Playing Catch-Up

  To Do:

  1. Baby development? Check out L’s milestones.

  2. Drop off dry cleaning.

  3. Shop for shoes.

  4. Thanksgiving?

  5. What does McNearny know?

  6. Call/e-mail Paula.

  The first thing I did when McNearny left was jump online. I browsed the library collection and found The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Private Investigating.

  Perfect.

  I put it on reserve.

  Hoping to find out more about Alan, I googled him. I didn’t find much, just that his office was on Sacramento Street. There certainly wasn’t a headline on Google results about any affair. I wanted to speak with him, but how could I do that without tipping him off about Margaret’s suspicions or my investigation?

  Maybe The Complete Idiot’s Guideto Private Investigating could clue me in.

  I called Alan’s practice and asked for an appointment. The receptionist scheduled me a month out and told me his latest appointment hour was 4:30 P.M.

  Bingo.

  While online, I sent my best friend Paula an e-mail. I knew she was coming home soon but didn’t exactly know when. I would have loved to talk to her, but by my calculations it was already past midnight in Paris.

  Then I dialed both Sara and Evelyn and left messages, hoping that they might have some answers about Alan. As soon as I hung up, Laurie began to cry. I picked her up off the playmat and found her soaked through.

  Poor little monkey! What was going on with the leaky diapers?

  Was it time for the next size already?

  I made my way to the nursery to change her but the ringing phone interrupted my route. Turning from the nursery, I walked back to the living room and picked up the cordless.

  “Kate! Where have you been?” Mother shouted on the line.

  “I took Laurie to coffee.”

  “She’s not old enough to have coffee!” Mother shrieked.

  “Not her. Me. She just came along for the company.”

  “Oh!” Mom yelled.

  “Why are you yelling?”

  “I’m not yelling!” Mom shouted.

  “Yes, you are,” I said, elevating my tone to match hers. This caused Laurie to squirm in my arms.

  “Am I? I just want to be sure you can hear me.”

  Laurie started to whimper.

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to hear you?”

  “I’m on my new cell phone!” Mom said.

  “You got
a cell? For what?”

  I’d been telling my mother for years to get a mobile phone, but her reply was always the same—she didn’t need one.

  She laughed. “Well, I want Hank and Albert to be able to reach me.”

  “My mom, the female Casanova!”

  “A regular man-eater,” Mom giggled. “Oh. I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving. Should we have it at my place?”

  Normally, we had Thanksgiving at my house. Jim did a mean turkey. He put the effort in to brine it, and it paid off every year. We started hosting as soon as we bought our house because Mom’s poor turkey was always dry.

  “Uh. Your place? No, no! We can do it here, like usual.”

  “Yes, but Laurie is so small and Thanksgiving is so much work. It might be easier to do it here.”

  I recalled the last year Mom had hosted, she had barred me from entering the kitchen and in an accusatory manner had said, “You’re going to tell me the turkey is dry.”

  When I had asked, “Why would I say that?”

  She had replied, “Because the turkey is dry.”

  I wrestled for an inoffensive way to decline Mom’s invite. “I’m sure Jim wants to do it here. He loves hosting Thanksgiving. It’s our favorite holiday.” And before she could get a word in edgewise, I said, “How are you going to juggle it though with Hank and Albert? Who are you going to invite?”

  Mom laughed. “Oh, see I got lucky on that one. Hank is flying back East to join one of his daughters. So I’m free to ask Albert.”

  “Great. Ask him to join us here, what, around four P.M.?”

  Laurie’s whimper turned into a howl.

  “I have to go, Mom, Laurie is completely soaked.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you when I get back from the Mexican Riviera.”

  “What? Wait. I thought you weren’t going until the fifteenth!”

  “I’m not but that’s the day after tomorrow and I need to pack and have my beauty rest before I go.”

  “The fifteenth. Wow. Time flies. My little mongoose will be two months on the nineteenth.”

  “I’ll bring her back some maracas.”