Bundle of Trouble

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Bundle of Trouble Page 22

by Diana Orgain

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE•

  The Sixth Week—Pushing

  When I arrived home, I found Jim wearing my green flannel bathrobe. I laughed “What are you doing?”

  Jim flapped his arms up and down in despair. “It’s the only thing that would calm her down.”

  “Wearing my robe?”

  “I read it online. I guess the robe has your scent on it. She feels like Mom is holding her when I’m wearing it.”

  I kissed him. “You are so sweet! Anything for your little girl, huh?”

  He nuzzled my neck. “Anything for my girls, big or little. I even vacuumed.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I said, “Anything?”

  Jim winked.

  “I need you to look at something.” I pulled the reports from the diaper purse and handed them to him. He seated himself on the sofa to read the reports.

  The phone interrupted his reading. It was Jim’s former client, Dirk Jonson. He wanted a follow-up meeting.

  When Jim left for his meeting, I fussed around the house, carrying and rocking Laurie. I jumped on and offline, e-mailing Paula and doing research. On a whim, I asked Paula if she recalled any “Carol” from our high school class, since Mr. Creepy had gone to a Holy Rosary dance with someone by that name and met Brad Avery that night.

  I wondered about background checks. Galigani said he’d run one on George. Maybe I could run one on Mr. Creepy.

  I finally admitted to myself it was time to recruit help on the PI front. I dialed Galigani in the hospital.

  “How’s your recovery coming along?”

  “They’re releasing me today. The miracles they work with surgery!” He paused for a moment, then continued, “I got very nice flowers from my former client Mrs. Avery.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. She enclosed a curious note.”

  No!

  “Curious, how?”

  “She thanked me for sending over such a wonderful replacement.”

  Relief washed over me. “That was nice.”

  “Nice? I don’t remember sending you over there as my replacement.”

  “You said . . . You told me . . . I went there to tell her you were dropping the case . . .”

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

  “But she thought . . . she thought . . . I let her think I was your replacement. That I was a PI because I want to start my own business and set my own hours to be with my daughter and I’m having fun and being challenged and she was ready to hire me, so I—”

  “You let her think you were my replacement!”

  I steadied myself for his wrath. “Yes.”

  Galigani burst out laughing.

  Instead of relief, I felt annoyed. I let him laugh a moment longer. When he didn’t stop, I said, “It’s not that funny.”

  He kept laughing.

  I played with the antenna on the cordless phone and waited him out. “Are you done?”

  “I’ll just wipe these tears.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Okay, let me guess, are you calling for a little guidance, a little help?”

  “I was calling to see how you were doing.” We both chuckled. “I didn’t call for a little help. I need a lot of help.”

  “Ah! Okay, you’re talking to an expert. And since you saved my life, I’ll give you a ten-minute consult on the house.”

  “I might need more than that. I’m completely in over my head.”

  “Why? Jennifer Miller was arrested last night.”

  Air rushed into my lungs. “Arrested? Jennifer?”

  “McNearny had a search warrant, they found the gun that killed Brad and Svetlana. They also found a supply of diazepam, the drug Michelle overdosed on.”

  “And you know this how?”

  He laughed. “McNearny and I were partners a long time. Loose lips.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense. How could Jennifer get rid of Brad, alone? She couldn’t lift him, could she?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Women can be pretty strong. And you know, ‘Hell hath no fury—’ ”

  “Jennifer wasn’t scorned. She had scorned Brad.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Well, Jennifer. She said—”

  Galigani snorted. “Never, ever believe what a suspect tells you. If she didn’t think twice about shooting someone, you think it’s gonna hurt her feelings to lie to you?”

  “Right. Right. Of course.” I paused. “Did McNearny tell you who the gun was registered to?”

  I cringed, waiting for the answer. Galigani was silent.

  “No, but I didn’t ask either. You want me to find out?”

   

   

  I played with Laurie in her exercise gym. She could now push herself up onto her arms. I guess tummy time really does work.

  I thought about my encounter with Rich. I’d overheard him complain about Jennifer. Something about her squealing? No, singing like a canary. About what? How had he known she’d been arrested?

  The front door opened and Jim walked in.

  “How’d it go?”

  Jim grimaced and walked to the kitchen. He reappeared holding an unopened beer can and tapped it on the side. “I’m not sure. Pretty good, I think. They want me to put together a new ad campaign for them with a proposal for my services as an independent contractor. But it’s hard for me to tell if I’m wasting my time. I should probably be looking for a full-time job, instead of—”

  “It sounds like a good opportunity.”

  Jim opened the beer. “You think that because you’re such an optimist.”

  I picked up Laurie and dangled her in front of Jim. “Ask her what she thinks.”

  Jim laughed, scooping Laurie into his arms. “What do you think, pumpkin pie? You think it’s best for Daddy to get a real job with health insurance and benefits and vacation and all the things that provide security for you and Mommy or should Daddy try to land this consulting gig?”

  I flopped onto the couch. “So do both. Keeping looking for a job and prepare the proposal for them.”

  Jim took a swig of beer. “I’m stressed out about not bringing in a paycheck.”

  The phone rang. I leaned over and grabbed it. Kiku’s voice filled the line. “Kate! The baby’s on the way! I’m scared and I can’t find George!”

  Excitement fluttered inside me. “Are you sure?”

  Kiku groaned.

  “Okay. Yeah. That sounds pretty real. Hang on, okay? Jim and I will be right over.”

  •

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