Motherhood is Murder(61)

“What about at Bruce’s house?” Mom asked.

“What?” Galigani and I asked at the same time. I put Galigani on speaker phone and Mom got close to the microphone.

“Maybe Margaret was over at Bruce’s before Celia got there. Maybe she mixed a little cocktail intended for Bruce.”

“Why, though?” I asked.

Mom shrugged. “I can only do so much work for free.”

Galigani snorted through the phone line. “I’m working on getting the tox results right now. Maybe they’ll shed a little light on some of this stuff, but let’s not hold our breath.”





After Mom left, I tried phoning Margaret and ended up leaving another voice mail. She had effectively disappeared. I wondered if “going to her mother’s” was a euphemism for “skipping town.”

Both Mom and Galigani had suggested Margaret was the murderer, but if my client was guilty—what did it make me?

Was I just being prideful?

Had Margaret played me? Perhaps she had found out about Helene’s betrayal. Or had she legitimately believed she was in danger from Alan?

And what about Evelyn? She’d been on the cruise and had seen Celia the day of the poisoning. But what possible motive could she have for killing Helene, or Celia for that matter?

Was getting kicked out of a mommy group motive enough to kill someone?

Hardly.

No matter how peeved it had made her, I couldn’t see it being cause for murder. Unless there was something else to the story?

Why had she been on the cruise anyway? She must have known that the night would be fraught with friction. It seemed silly to insist on going when she knew she would be seated with a bunch of women who didn’t like her.

And then there was the fact that her husband was leaving the country for a work assignment. Wouldn’t she rather have had a private date night?

Still, as strange as it seemed to me, it didn’t gel as a motive for murder. Perhaps she thought getting kicked out of the group was a slight on her kid? Could she be that overprotective as to kill in retaliation for the snub?

And then what would be her motive to hurt Celia?

No. It didn’t make sense.

No matter how many times I wrapped my head around it, I came up with Bruce. He had motive because of the affair, and opportunity—he was on the boat and at his house.

I dialed Gary and reported to him about Helene and Alan’s affair.

“It’s not looking good for Bruce,” I said.

There was silence on the phone. Finally Gary said, “Well, we just have to look harder. I think there’s something suspicious about Margaret. Check into that.”

Another one who wanted to peg it on Margaret!

“I can, of course,” I said.

If she’ll call me back!

“It’s just that the truth may be that Bruce is responsible,” I said.

“The truth is overrated,” Gary replied as he hung up on me.

For the umpteenth time I reviewed the transcript Gary had given me. Neither Inspector Jones nor Inspector McNearny had questioned Bruce on Helene’s affair, yet surely they would have known about it from the preliminary interviews. Why hadn’t they asked him?

I reread the report. It was clear that Gary had silenced them before they’d gotten to any substantive questions. They needed evidence. Pure and simple.

And so did I.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN





Risk





To Do:



1. Find proof to nail Bruce.

2. Where is Margaret?

3. Laundry—didn’t I just do it?

4. Order turkey.

5. Read to Laurie.

6. Sing to Laurie—Am I falling behind on any more milestones?

Paula and I sat inside my car and waited for Bruce to leave. I’d convinced her to watch his house with me for a while, hoping for an opportunity to search his place.

After about an hour of waiting and making small chitchat, Paula said, “Maybe we should call him and tell him the condo is on fire and that he needs to leave right away.”

I laughed. “It’s not a bad idea. What kind of believable reason to get him out immediately could we use?”

“A fire’s not believable?” she asked.

“No. I think he’d notice pretty fast that the place wasn’t on fire. No firefighters, fire trucks, et cetera.”

“I could set the place on fire,” Paula offered.

“No.”

“Okay, how about I set you on fire for dragging me along, then when the firefighters come and Bruce peeks out of his condo to see what the commotion is about, I sneak into his place and search it,” Paula said.

“I hate to break it to you, but a pregnant woman can’t really ‘sneak’ around.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but pregnant women have a lot of pressure on their bladders and sitting inside a car on a stakeout doesn’t exactly elicit brilliance.” She laughed. “Seriously, can’t you call Margaret and ask her to invite him over or something? She is your client.”

“I’m not sure where she is or where she stands in all this. What if we just go upstairs and talk to him? You can distract him while I search the place.”

“What am I supposed to talk to him about? And what are you hoping to find anyway? You think a murderer just keeps stuff lying around?”