Motherhood is Murder(5)

Margaret dug a card out of her purse and handed it to me. It read Roo & You—President and had a little graphic of a kangaroo with a baby in its pouch. “You should come along and check out our group,” she said.

“It sounds like fun,” I replied.

Helene poked Margaret. “We need to go. Marcus is probably hungry by now.”

Margaret smiled at me. “He’s six months old and I’m vetting a new nanny. Unfortunately, someone stole the one I used with my two-year-old.”

A nanny. Must be nice.

Helene chomped on the gum. “This stuff doesn’t work. I still want a cigarette.”

“You should try those patches.” Margaret said, linking her arm through Helene’s. She turned to me. “Call or e-mail me. I’ll save you two tickets for the cruise.”





The boat swayed, the motion brought my mind back to the present.

I still needed to call Mom. How could I find a network? I extended my arm and did a ridiculous dance trying to coax more than two bars out of the phone.

I quickly dialed home. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Laurie’s pretty round face with her rosy cheeks and toothless grin. Thank God I’d pumped before leaving the house this evening. I only hoped they wouldn’t keep us here too much longer. I was missing Laurie like crazy.

I twisted and suddenly saw full bars. Mom answered on the third ring.

“How’s Lemon Drop?” I asked.

Samba music blared in the background, then suddenly stopped.

“She fine, dear. Sleeping.”

“What are you listening to?”

“Ricky Martin.”

“Laurie is sleeping through Ricky Martin?”

“Yes, well, she’s really still too young to enjoy the finer things in life.”

I filled Mom in on the developments.

She gasped. “Don’t worry about Laurie and me, we’re fine. Just take care of whatever you need to. We’ll be here.”

What would I do without Mom?

As I was about to thank her and hang up, I heard a male voice in the background. “Who’s that?”

“Oh! That’s Hank. He came over to keep me company.” >

After nearly fifteen years of being single, Mom had recently started dating again. Hank was the man who’d brought her out of hiding.

“What are you, a teenager? You have some guy over as soon as the adults are out of the house?”

Mom laughed. “I needed somebody to samba with and Laurie just wasn’t cooperating.”

From the main staircase four police officers in uniform descended. They wore solemn expressions and walked in lockstep.

“I gotta go,” I said to Mom and hung up.

I returned to our table, where Jim and my, no doubt, cold coffee were waiting.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, the officers dispersed. Each one approached a different table, the divide and conquer method.

The officer that came to our table was Asian-American. He had a strong compact build and a smooth complexion. He leaned forward, his hands resting on the tabletop, and cleared his throat. “Evening, ladies and gentlemen, I’m Officer Lee. Sorry about the delay. The captain wants to dock as soon as possible, but before we can let you all go—I need to get a statement from each of you and some contact information.”

“How’s Helene?” Margaret asked.

Officer Lee focused on Margaret and sized her up, nodding to himself several times. “The medical staff is with her now.”

Medical staff?

He meant the medical examiner, I was sure of it. But I supposed SFPD had a reason for not disclosing that. I hadn’t had an opportunity to mention to anyone that I had bumped into the ME. Now, I felt certain I should keep it to myself.

Except, of course, for Jim.

Reflexively my hand reached out to touch Jim’s leg. He placed his hand over mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Officer Lee straightened and pulled out a notebook from his breast pocket. “I’d like to begin with you,” he said to Margaret. “Please follow me.”

Margaret gave the napkin in her lap one final wring, then stood up. Her tutu sprang to attention.

Officer Lee seemed momentarily dazed by Margaret’s attire. He gathered himself enough to mumble, “If everyone can please get their identification cards or driver’s licenses ready, it’ll make this whole process go much smoother.”

Margaret followed Lee toward the lounge area, where they carved out a private space to speak. The rest of us at the table exchanged sympathetic looks and began to gather up purses and wallets to prove our identity.

Evelyn craned to look out the starboard windows. “Where’s the hospital boat? Why aren’t they shuttling her off the boat?”

“Maybe she’s not hurt all that bad,” Sara offered.

“Then why are the police here?” Evelyn shrieked.

Evelyn’s husband put his hand on her shoulder. Evelyn sat up straighter and pushed her belly out.

Sara gave Evelyn the evil eye. “How should I know why the police are here? Maybe all this has something to do with you!”

“Me!” Evelyn said, pressing her hand to her heart.

Sara’s husband, Howard, looked stunned. “Sara!” He took hold of her arm.