Rockabye Murder

by Diana Orgain

  As I buckled Laurie back into her stroller, I tried to imagine how my next conversation with my mom was going to go. Yeah, I believed your boyfriend when he said he thought your other boyfriend might be a murderer, and we went to interrogate him together.

  She and Kenny could commiserate, no doubt.

  When I got home Jim was there, I only told him that Laurie was good and ready for a long nap, and I needed to go with Galigani to ask someone a few questions. I’d hear no end of the lectures if he thought I was letting my feelings about Mom and Hank and Galigani interfere with the case.

  But I wasn’t. It was a good lead. Motive plus means plus opportunity? Hank was lucky the cops hadn’t hauled him in.

  I met Galigani outside Hank’s pharmacy. The smirk on Galigani’s face looked entirely too smug.

  “We don’t want it to be him,” I reminded him.

  “Oh, of course not,” said Galigani, his voice flat. “Your mom would be devastated.”

  With a warning glare, I marched inside, Galigani trailing me.

  A twentysomething pharmacy tech stood behind the counter. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Hank here?” Galigani practically held his breath.

  The tech nodded and twisted to call toward the back, “Hey, Hank. Visitors for ya!”

  Hank came around the corner, wearing a white coat. He brightened when he saw me, but then he took in Galigani, and his lips tightened into a thin line. “Good to see you both.”

  Galigani whipped out a notepad and pen, looking coldly officious. I was pretty sure it was a deliberate move to intimidate Hank. “Can we ask you a few questions about the murder of Leo Godwin?”

  Hank blinked several times. “Sure,” he said slowly, glancing at the open-mouthed pharmacy tech. “Although I don’t know what I can help you out with. Should we do this over dinner?”

  “Why not?” Galigani gestured to the door. “After you.”

  We grabbed burgers at the place next door, and Galigani started the questioning. “Where were you the morning of the tenth?”

  “Well,” Hank wiped a dab of ketchup off his lip, “here most of the day. When it was slow, I went over to Tre Fratelli Danzanti to see if Vera might be there.”

  Galigani paused, his lips quirked in irritation. “And why did you think Vera might be there?”

  “Well, she needs a dance partner, and she’d mentioned she might be there pretty often to help out with the fundraiser.”

  Galigani practically exploded. “She doesn’t need a dance partner who’s a murderer!”

  Chapter 11

  We can’t just go accusing people without evidence. I rested a gentle hand on Galigani’s arm. He was a better PI than this. But jealousy did crazy things to a person. I’d almost lost my mind when Jim’s ex-girlfriend tried to drive us apart.

  “What he means,” I said in Hank’s direction, “is that we’re trying to follow up with anyone who was at Tre Fratelli Danzanti that morning. Not”—I glared at Galigani—“because we’re accusing anyone of anything, but because we’re looking for leads. Anything you might have noticed that seemed odd, or that stands out now that you think back on it.”

  Hank chewed slowly on a bite of burger. When he swallowed, he said, “I wasn’t there very long, really. Don’t remember much. Of course, I was looking for Vera, not paying attention to all the goings-on at the studio.”

  “Why didn’t you just call her?” I asked.

  He shifted in his seat, and a faint blush crept over his face. “She would have hung up on me. We’d talked on the phone the night before, and she told me she was already in love with someone and that we should just be friends. I tried to talk her out of it—”

  Galigani fumed. “Why, you no-good—”

  I cut him off by clamping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s wonderful news!” I overenunciated each word, hoping to get it through Galigani’s thick skull. “Mom is in love with someone else. That must make her boyfriend very happy.”

  Galigani’s mouth closed as the realization hit him.

  Ignoring the jubilation emanating from my mentor, I looked back at Hank. “So, you were hoping to run into her and . . .”

  “Apologize for not respecting her wishes the evening before, and tell her I’d be happy to be her platonic dance partner for the fundraiser.”

  Galigani’s face took on a sour expression again. I couldn’t blame him for being a little possessive. “And so now you’re showering her granddaughter with expensive gifts?”

  Hank shrugged. “A man’s gotta try.”

  “Did you know Leo?” I asked before Galigani could retort a reply.

  He popped a fry in his mouth with an expression of distaste. “I met him while taking dance lessons there a year or two back. We saw each other at poker on occasion.”

  “Anyone owe him money?”

  Hank shook his head. “We didn’t play for that much. I expect there were some outstanding debts—maybe involving Leo, maybe not—but nothing anyone would kill over. Two or three hundred dollars tops.”

  None of our specific questions about who he’d seen at the studio yielded anything. He knew he’d seen Petunia because she’d told him that Vera wasn’t there. But he hadn’t registered anyone else, or what cars were parked nearby, or anything useful.

  When we stood to leave, I leaned forward and said, “Hey, I really don’t mean anything by this, but could you stay in town in case we have any more questions? I know you travel a lot, and I want to make sure we rule you out before the police get wind of that poker night.”

  “Sure, sure.” He tossed the hamburger wrapper in the bin. “I don’t have plans to go anywhere.”

  Galigani and I walked to his car. “Should we go see if we can track down Todd now?” he asked.

  “Sounds great. You driving?”

  “Yep.”

  As soon as the car doors closed, I asked, “So, what’d you think of Hank’s story?”

  He made a scoffing noise in his throat. “Well, I believed the part about your mother being in love with me.”

  “Really? That’s what you’re leading with? We’re on a case!”

  “You’re on a case,” he said. “I’m retired, you know, but somehow you always rope me back in.”

  “As my supervisor, you’re definitely also working this case.”

  “As your supervisor, I’m somehow not going to see a dime from this case,” he muttered.

  He had a point. I drummed my fingers on the armrest.

  “To be consistent,” he continued, “we really should view Petunia and the owners as suspects.”

  “I know, I know,” I sighed. “Just because I know them doesn’t mean I can rule them out. I know they didn’t do it, but it’s important to dot all my i’s and cross all my t’s and all that.”

  “Yes, and all that,” he said, mimicking me.

  I laughed aloud, and he joined me, chuckling.

  “Galigani, you are ornery today.”

  “Why, Kate, I’m always ornery. You just happened to notice today.”

  My stomach growled. “Can we stop off for stakeout snacks before we go to the studio to wait for Todd? I’m famished.”

  “Bingo,” cried Galigani three hours later, peering through his binoculars at the studio. “Todd and Kim, and they’re going to separate cars. They live together, don’t they? Do you think there’s trouble in paradise?”

  “I hope so,” I said, crunching into a potato chip. “Kim could do better.”

  “I thought you said they were both snobs.” He put the car in gear.

  “Well, they are both snobs. But Todd wants to betray Dave and Petunia, and Kim doesn’t, so that makes her a better person in my book. Plus, as far as we know, she’s never poisoned anyone.”

  “Well, Todd says he hasn’t poisoned anyone either.” Galigani put the car back in park. “Hey, he’s not leaving after all. He was just loading some stuff in his car.”

  I grabbed the binoculars and zoomed in on Todd. “He’s headed over to
Monte’s studio. Traitor.” Unbuckling my seatbelt, I said, “I’ll follow him in. See if I can overhear anything. If he sees me, I’ll just say I’m there to ask Monte questions.”

  With a gruff nod, Galigani said, “Be careful, kid.”

  “I’m always careful. Besides, I owe you a ring-shopping trip. Especially now that we have it on good authority that Mom is”—I dramatically fluttered my hand over my chest—“in love.”

  Galigani’s cheeks pinked. “Shut up, and go investigate,” he growled. But he couldn’t fool me. He was trying and failing to keep a silly grin off his face.

  “I call matron of honor,” I said right before I closed the door. Shivering, I strode across the shaded parking lot, wishing I’d brought my sweater. But no time to go back for it. Who knew how long Todd would be at Monte’s?

  The lobby of Dare to Dance looked similar to Tre Fratelli Danzanti’s, except instead of a quote stenciled on the wall, there were huge posters of professional dancers. A few were ballroom, but it seemed like this studio was more ballet-centric than Dave’s. Male voices emanated from behind a half-open door just off the lobby. The office, I bet. I crept closer, keeping myself out of the eyesight of anyone within.

  Yes, I decided as I listened to the tenor of the voices. Todd and Monte for sure.

  “Listen, I did what you asked,” Todd said, frustration lacing his voice.

  “I heard.” Monte seemed to be shuffling some papers. “I’ll get you a healthy bonus.”

  “Thanks,” said Todd. “My mom’s short some money for her medical bills . . .”

  The ensuing silence seemed awkward, and I pulled out my phone and texted Galigani. Todd says he did what Monte asked and is getting a bonus.

  I sent it, then hurried to put my phone on silent so Todd and Monte wouldn’t hear when Galigani replied.

  His text came quickly. I’ve called the police. They’ll want to ask some questions about that.

  Todd and Monte were speaking more quietly now, hashing out details of the transition—Todd and Kim were both going to teach ballet for Monte.

  What nerve!

  When the first two cops strode in, I was relieved—and when I saw Deb’s face, I grinned. “Hey,” I said, high-fiving her. “I got something for you.”

  “So I hear. Good work, Connolly.”

  Todd and Monte came out of the office, their arms crossed.

  “What’s this about?” demanded Todd.

  “We’ve received some information connecting you with a local homicide. I’m afraid we’re going to take you down to the station for questioning,” said Deb.

  “What!” Monte fumed.

  Todd glared in my direction. “I knew you were going to be trouble.”

  I shrugged. “You want to tell us what ‘I did what you asked’ and ‘I’ll get you a healthy bonus’ means? Because that sounds pretty suspicious when someone’s sabotaging Todd’s boss and one of his coworkers ends up dead.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” growled Monte. Another patrol unit pulled in front of the studio and Monte roared even louder, “Hey now! This is a respectable establishment. You’re going to ruin my reputation!”

  “Maybe then just come down for the station for a friendly chat,” Deb said with a cheery grin.

  Todd shook his head and held up his hands. “Listen, it’s not what you think. We didn’t hurt anyone. We just—”

  Monte bustled ahead of Todd out the door. “Let’s save it for the station,” Monte said. “My lawyer will meet us there.”

  Todd trained his eyes on me. “Really, Kate. It’s not what you think.”

  The cops led him out, and I shivered. Maybe he was guilty, maybe he wasn’t, but I was glad he was being taken in for questioning.

  Galigani and I followed them out, and then Deb jogged back to meet us and whispered, “I’ll let you know what we find out.”

  The police cars pulled away, and Galigani and I both let out deep breaths.

  “Pretty full PI day, huh?” he said. “I was going to ask if we could go by the mall to look at rings, but I’m exhausted and you must be too.”

  I cradled my baby bump. Second trimester or not, I was exhausted. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to be home, cuddled in bed with Jim and Laurie.

  “If you end up browsing before we find time to go together,” I said, “remember that Mom likes sparkly things but has small hands. Big diamonds look ridiculous on her. She’ll be happiest with something that looks intricate but has a thin band and a center diamond no bigger than three-quarters of a carat.”

  Galigani jotted down a note with those specifications, and we agreed to touch base the next day to talk about where we were in the case.

  A profound sense of relief filled me as I pulled into the driveway. Jo-Jo’s truck wasn’t anywhere in sight. It would be a quiet evening at home.

  Jim had just finished feeding Laurie, and she grinned when she saw me.

  “How is my peanuty pie?” I cooed. I scooped her up and planted kisses on her tummy.

  “Ready for our dance lesson tomorrow?” Jim asked. “I scheduled it for the morning because my day is wide open.”

  “Oh, I’m ready,” I said in a teasing voice. “The question is if you’re ready.”

  Jim clutched a hand to his chest as if affronted. “Ouch! Listen, I’ve just misplaced my rhythm, I’m sure it’s here somewhere and I’ll find it.”

  Snorting, I said, “Have you checked for under the couch?”

  Jim laughed. “Yeah. Unfortunately, my rhythm isn’t there.”

  We both chucked, and Laurie let out a high-pitch delighted squeal. I kissed the top of her head, my heart warmed with love for my little family.

  Jim regained his serious expression, and said, “And check the table. We got some packages today. I think maybe the baby-proofing stuff.”

  “Good! Let’s get that installed in the next few days. She’s grabbing ahold of everything, and she may start crawling soon.”

  “You can say that three times fast,” said Jim, shuddering. “I set her down for just a second and she almost spilled coffee on my laptop.”

  “Imagine when she’s mobile.”

  He shook his head. “We’re going to have our work cut out for us for sure. So, how was the investigating? Find out anything good?”

  Setting Laurie on the rocking horse and sitting on the living room carpet beside her, I thought of Hank, and guilt churned in my belly. Really, I didn’t want him to be guilty. “Talked to a few suspects. A couple of guys got pulled in for questioning. That guy ballet teacher and the owner of the rival studio. I think they may have been working together.”

  “What’s the motive?” asked Jim, settling onto the couch.

  I leaned my head against his leg. “Well, for the owner, sabotaging Dave’s studio and poaching his clients. Expanding his business and eventually taking over Dave’s unit. For the teacher . . . it sounds like he’s in some financial trouble. Or his mom is. Medical bills.”

  “Yikes,” said Jim. “That’s sad when you think about it.”

  “Well,” I traced my fingers over the rocking horse head, “we don’t have anything concrete yet.”

  We settled into an easy silence, and Jim said, “Such a beautiful gift from Hank.”

  “It is. Laurie sure loves it. And it’s way better than that howling chipmunk bus.”

  Jim chuckled, then joined me sitting on the floor. He kissed me until we fell back onto the carpet laughing.

  Chapter 12

  To Do

  Follow up with Deb on Monte/Todd interrogation.

  Tell Dave that Todd is scheming to poach students.

  Ring shopping with Galigani!

  Install baby-proofing system.

  Dance lesson! Is it too soon to sign Laurie up ballet?

  Meet with Petunia about fundraiser.

  * * *

  An oppressive pounding sound tugged at the edges of my consciousness. I groaned and rolled over, trying to maintain the perfect relaxation of sleep.<
br />
  But then a shrill sound cut through the drumbeat of Jo-Jo’s construction work. Laurie was crying. He’d woken her up too. I grumbled but clambered out of bed, keeping my eyes closed. My feet traced the pathway to her room by sheer muscle memory.

  “Hey, peanut.” I cracked one eye open and pulled her out of her crib. “Should we feed you?”

  We returned to the bedroom I shared with Jim, and I climbed back under the covers with her and positioned her to nurse. Her squalls settled almost immediately, and I scooted backward so that my back touched Jim. This was a perfect morning.

  The obnoxious drone of a power tool replaced the pounding that had first woken me.

  Well, almost perfect. “It’ll be over soon,” I whispered to Laurie. “He’ll finish all the work and we’ll have a perfect nursery for the twins. And you’ll be the world’s best big sister.”

  Was that coming from the backyard? Why the heck was Jo-Jo working in the backyard?

  Plus, it wasn’t yet seven—why did Jo-Jo have to start his work so darn early? I let myself hover between wakefulness and sleep while Laurie finished nursing. When she was done eating, I forced myself to fully wake up. I stood, craning my neck to stretch out the tense muscles. “We should change your diaper, huh?”

  Jim stirred in bed, and I called, “Can you make some coffee? I’ll just have half a cup. I need a kickstart this morning.”

  He sat up, yawning. “Sure, sure.”

  I took Laurie back to her ducky-themed nursery while Jim padded down the hall to the kitchen. The sound of the coffee maker and the promise of even the tiniest bit of caffeine from our decaf brew perked me up. Someday the nursery would be done, and we wouldn’t be woken up so early. Of course, the twins would keep us up at all hours of the night—but at least I wouldn’t be pregnant and I could start drinking a reasonable amount of coffee again.

  I glanced at my phone, wondering when I could expect a call from Deb. Maybe I’d text her. I opened my text messages and saw she’d texted me at two in the morning.

  Girl we need to do a GIRLS NIGHT SOON. I LOVE YOU!