Motherhood is Murder(62)

I opened the door to the car and jumped out. I walked around to Paula’s and pulled open her door. “Come on, you can use his bathroom. I know you’re dying to go.”

Paula indicated my new Converse. “You’re actually willing to be seen in public in those?” Paula asked.

“They’re my getaway shoes. Just in case.”

We climbed up the stairs to the third-floor condo and rang the bell. After a moment, Bruce came to the door.

“Kate!” He scratched his head and smiled. “Was I expecting you?”

“I was in the neighborhood and I had a few questions for you. Can we come in for a minute?”

He stepped aside. “Sure. Of course. Nice shoes.”

Paula snorted.

I smiled. “This is my friend Paula.”

She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you and all that, can I use your potty?”

Bruce laughed and pointed down the hall. “Help yourself.”

Paula disappeared down the hallway, while Bruce and I seated ourselves in his living room. Concern showed on his face. “What’s up, Kate? Did Gary send you?”

“No. I was just going through my notes last night and realized there was some stuff I hadn’t asked you about.”

“Okay, shoot.”

I was desperate to find out what Bruce knew of Helene’s affair, but didn’t want to alienate him before I had a chance to snoop.

“Can you tell me a little more about the adoption?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t think it’s going through now. Celia won’t return my calls, which is understandable. I don’t know how to reach Father Pedro’s. I feel so badly about everything that I think I should still give the girl the money, you know? Help her out. I mean, what’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to me?”

“What? Wait a minute. What do you mean, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”

“That was the agreement. Helene and I were going to donate money to Father Pedro’s orphanage.”

“You were buying the baby?”

“Well, no. I don’t consider it buying, more like we needed to give Father Pedro something. You know, get to the top of the line. I’ve got the money, that’s no problem.”

“Bruce, that day Celia and I were here. Did anyone else come over?”

He looked thoughtful. “No.”

I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I had to find out if he’d known about Helene’s affair.

I squinted at him. “What can you tell me about the affair?”

“What affair?”

“Between Helene and Alan. When did you find out about it?”

The color drained from Bruce’s face. He looked as if I’d landed a punch square in the solar plexus. “Helene was having an affair?”

I nodded slowly.

Bruce swallowed and took an involuntary step back. “How do you know this?”

“Witnesses on the cruise.”

Oops!

I wasn’t supposed to say anything about having that information!

Yikes, please don’t tell Gary. Please don’t tell Gary.

Why didn’t I just tell him I’d heard it from Alan?

Now, I couldn’t very well tell him my mother had snagged the information from Alan’s receptionist. That would sound completely stupid—like I was dependent on my mommy for my survival as a PI. Never mind the fact that it was one of her boyfriends who was letting me use his license.

Bruce slouched and allowed his head to fall heavily into his hands. “I didn’t know anything about it. Are you sure?”

“I’m sorry. Yes. It’s true.”

Was he legitimately stunned or had he rehearsed this reaction?

At that moment, Paula emerged from the bathroom and walked down the hallway toward us.

I gestured to the bathroom “May I?”

“Of course,” Bruce said.

Paula reached us and said, “I hear you have a great view.”

I excused myself and headed down the hall as Paula said, “I love views of the bay. Can we take a peek?”

Bruce, still slightly pale, said, “Um . . . Yeah, sure.”

Paula called after me, “We’ll be on the roof, Kate.”

“No problem,” I said over my shoulder.

I stopped at the bathroom door and listened as they climbed the metal staircase. I could hear them chatting overhead. Mostly Paula, Bruce seemingly going through the motions or pretending he was.

I made a mad dash into the master bedroom. There were gorgeous gold curtains and a matching coverlet on the bed. The furniture was handsome and heavy. An antique set of dressers adorned either side of the bed. On top of each dresser were gold candlesticks and several dishes that held knickknacks.

I circled the room quickly. The closet looked in order, nothing out of the ordinary. It would help if I knew what I was looking for, but I was clueless. I entered the master bath and pulled open the medicine chest: cold creams, makeup, makeup remover, and nicotine patches. Looked like Helene had taken Margaret’s advice and bought some. I peeked in the package—half empty. Apparently they hadn’t worked for her either, because that night on the cruise she still wanted a cigarette.

Sadness filled my gut and I felt a hopelessness overcome me.

What was I looking for?