I was so thirsty.
A pregnant woman wouldn’t poison a new mom, would she?
I remembered Michelle sprawled across her living room floor.
Forget the tea.
“Do you know why Galigani wanted to meet with you?”
She nodded. “Meet about Brad.”
She didn’t look brokenhearted. This couldn’t be the “other woman,” unless she was acting. Maybe she was secretly falling apart.
I played with my teacup, hoping she wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t actually drinking anything. “How did you know Brad?”
“He hired me,” she replied.
“You work at El Paraiso?”
She sipped her tea. “No. Not now. Before.”
“How long did you work there?”
She tilted her head in thought. “Two months.”
“Why did you leave?”
“My English is not so good. Too hard to work in a restaurant. People talking, talking, talking all the time. I go to beauty school now.” She smiled shyly and covered her mouth as she giggled.
“Your English is fine,” I said.
“Much better now. I study.”
I glanced at the fine paintings covering her apartment walls. Where was a beauty school student getting all this money? “Are you working?”
“No. Not now. Later. After baby. Now I study. Beauty and English!” She giggled again.
I self-consciously ran my hand through my tangled curls. “I need to get a haircut.”
“No problem. You come back. I can cut for you.”
I laughed. “Sure. Why not?” I paused. “Kiku, did you know Brad was killed?” Her expression was oddly blank as she nodded. “He was killed on June fifteenth. I’m investigating his murder.”
How could I politely ask if Brad was the father of her baby?
I mumbled, “Do you know who would want to kill Brad?”
Kiku’s eyes grew wide. “No,” she whispered.
I glanced at Laurie, still in her car seat bucket. She was examining a toy I’d attached to the strap. I felt at a loss. Obviously, Galigani had wanted me to meet Kiku, but why? I didn’t know what questions to ask or what to do. I felt foolish. This kind, pregnant woman couldn’t have shot Brad. What was I doing here? I stood in frustration, ready to leave. My movement caught Laurie’s eye and she began to cry.
Kiku jumped up in distress. “Oh little girl! Little baby!”
I laughed, remembering the panic of the first few days when Laurie’s cry would set off all sort of alarms inside me. “She’s okay. Don’t worry.” I freed Laurie from the bucket to find her jumper soaked through. “She needs a diaper change. May I use your bathroom?”
Kiku indicated I should walk through the bedroom. I grabbed Laurie’s diaper bag and headed toward the bathroom. Kiku’s face still reflected a certain amount of terror. Oh well, she’d get used to life with an infant.
Inside the bathroom, I pulled out a clean jumper for Laurie and quickly went through the diaper routine. I turned her onto her tummy on the diaper pad and washed my hands in the sink. Laurie was now able to hold up her head and at least not have a fit when placed on her tummy. I studied my reflection in the medicine chest. I looked tired and frazzled. On impulse, I opened the medicine chest. A prescription for Valium stared me in the face.
I gagged. From my research online I knew the drug Michelle had died from, diazepam, was the generic form of Valium. Kiku had a prescription for Valium. The label showed a fifty count of five-milligram tablets. I rattled the bottle, then opened it. Ten pills remained. The date on the prescription was November of last year. Before Kiku’s pregnancy. Before Michelle’s death.
Laurie complained from her position on the floor. I gathered her and all the diaper paraphernalia. When I opened the door to the bathroom, Kiku was waiting for me.
“Everything okay?” she asked nervously.
I gave her an exhausted nod and followed her back to the living room.
While I settled Laurie into her car seat, I asked, “Kiku, do you recall where you were on June fifteenth?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully to the side. “I think June fifteenth Horoaki graduate.” She opened a drawer from a side table and pulled out a photograph of a handsome smiling young man.
Was he the father?
I made a note in my notebook and smiled at Kiku. “Oh! Who’s Horoaki? He’s so cute!”
“My brother.”
“Where did he graduate from? San Francisco State?”
“No. Dental school, UCSF.”
Her alibi could easily be checked out.
“Ah! Good career ahead of him. Thank you for the tea.” I swung Laurie’s diaper bag onto my shoulder. “One more thing. Where were you Monday, October first?”