“No. I was with George, so I know he didn’t. He couldn’t have. But, well, what would the police think if I told them that? They’d think that George and I killed Brad together. I mean, if George is my alibi and he looks guilty, then it doesn’t look good for me, does it? So, I lied.”
She took another sip of wine, which turned into a kind of a guzzle, then refilled her glass with the last of the wine. Where was the food? Hadn’t she promised me lunch? Was a bottle of wine lunch for her?
“What did you tell them?” I asked, wondering if I had any crackers in Laurie’s diaper bag.
“That I was home alone after Brad left. That I didn’t know George Connolly.”
“Michelle, how can you expect the police to think you don’t know him if he works for you?”
“He works under the table, you know, for cash, so he’s not on any employee list or payroll or anything.” She finished off the wine, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing her pink lipstick.
“Where can I find George?”
“He should be at the restaurant, El Paraiso, on Market Street. Kate, why did they call you about the bags? I mean, what was in them?”
“They couldn’t find George.”
Michelle nodded. “He likes keeping a low profile, which is good. Was there anything, you know, special in his bags?”
Like what?
“I haven’t opened them.”
Michelle looked disappointed.
What was she looking for?
We stared awkwardly at each other. Finally Michelle said, “I’m scared, Kate. What if . . . whoever killed Brad . . . what if I’m next?”
♥ Uploaded by Coral ♥
•CHAPTER SIX•
The Second Week—Umbilical Cord Emancipation
I left Michelle’s house and packed Laurie into the car. When I pulled out from the parking spot, my trunk flew open.
I reparked the car and jumped out to slam the trunk shut. It ricocheted back in my face. I examined the lock.
Jimmied.
Someone had broken into my car. A wave of desperation came over me, filling me with the urge to cry.
How ridiculous is that? I’m going to cry over a car? No! I’m just tired, not to mention all the hormones raging through my body. This is nothing to cry about.
I looked into the trunk. My overdue library books were still there and so was my leather jacket. Nothing seemed to be missing. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been violated.
Someone had rummaged through my stuff. My car. My library books. My jacket.
I pulled into our garage. When I got out of the car, my pelvic bones ached from so much activity. Jim sat on our steps sorting through George’s bags.
“How’s my little lima bean?”
“Not good. Someone broke into my car.”
“What? Where?” Jim stood and came over to me.
“In front of Michelle’s.”
“Who?”
“Michelle Dupree, who is now Michelle Avery. My friend from high school. Do you remember her?”
Jim unstrapped Laurie from her car seat. “Not really.”
“You met her at the ten-year reunion .”
“Oh! Vaguely.” A corner of Jim’s mouth twitched up. “Is she the one who won the drama award that should have—”
“Been mine? Yeah.”
Jim smiled.
“It should have been mine. What are you smirking at?” I demanded.
“You got the popularity award, or whatever it was called. Popularity? Personality?”
“I wanted the drama award. I earned it. They only gave it to her because of their stupid philosophy about spreading out the awards, so that no one student would dominate.”
Jim’s smirk turned into a laugh. “They thought they could stop you from dominating?”
“If you weren’t holding Laurie right now, I’d punch you.”
“Have a baby, lose a sense of humor?” Jim teased.
I covered my face with my hands. “I’m tired. It was her husband. The guy they found in the bay. Brad Avery.”
Jim’s face darkened, his playful mood vanishing. “That’s awful.” He rubbed my back with his free hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. Where’s Michelle live?”
“Noe Valley. Not a bad neighborhood. I had to tie my trunk down so it would stay shut.”
“Anything missing?”
“Not that I can tell. My jacket’s still there. They didn’t even have the decency to take the library books and return them.”
He laughed and kissed my neck. “I’m glad nothing happened to you or Laurie.” He handed the baby to me. “I’ll take your car in for repair tomorrow on my way to the office and drop your books off for you, too.”